(among other activities).
And I really, really liked it. 😀
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“Come here,” he orders, “and take your clothes off.”
I obey quickly. Now I am naked, and he is dressed, and I feel a shiver go through me that has nothing to do with the temperature in the room.
“Kneel,” he commands.
I quickly assume the position, and he pulls my head toward his crotch and rubs my face against his hard cock. It makes me happy that he gets just as turned on from dominating me as I do from being dominated, and I hum a little while I nuzzle him.
After a trip to the toy cabinet he sits again, holding my collar. I lean forward so he can fasten it around my neck, and I start to relax; warmth starts building inside me. Then he tilts my chin up to put on my blindfold, and I meet his eyes for a moment, and smile. The act of him putting it on, of taking away my sight, always pushes me toward subspace, makes it easier somehow for me to stop thinking, to just feel and react and submit.
I start to feel a little floaty.
He fastens my leash to the ring on my collar, and I get floatier. God, I love that leash. “Wrist,” he says, and I lift my left hand for him to fasten the cuff—and suddenly, kneeling there on the floor, wearing my collar and my leash, I feel like a puppy lifting her paw. And although I have no interest in puppy play, still, this makes me feel giggly and happy, and I laugh while he fastens all my cuffs in place.
He pulls my leash, until I crawl up and across the bed. He fastens my leash to the bed, then clips ropes to my wrist cuffs. As he goes to fasten my ankles, he pauses.
“How did you get those bruises on your leg?”
“I have no idea,” I say, “I just noticed them this morning. I probably ran into something,” which is a common occurrence for me.
“Hmm,” he says, and fastens my ankle cuffs to the ropes.
I’m already so turned on that I’m close to dripping, and my happiness level is skyrocketing. I stay in position, kneeling on all fours, happy little sub, waiting to see what will come next.
WHACK! is what comes next.
“Ouch!” I yell, then laugh, because it didn’t really hurt, it just surprised me.
“That’s for not taking care of yourself,” he says sternly.
“Thank you, Sir!” I answer. Then: “You love me,” happily. It strikes me as slightly absurd that he is expressing his love and concern about my well-being by whacking me, and that I am happy about it. This is a strange life sometimes.
He swats me a few more times, then hits me with my be-hatted ping-pong paddle (yes, I bought a hat for it, it’s soft and snuggly and it makes the paddle thud instead of sting, and I love it very much, even if it does have a dingle-ball on top 😀 ). It feels so good, and I moan and push my rump back toward him, asking for more.
“I think I could hit you with this all night, and you wouldn’t complain.”
I make a happy little sound of agreement.
“But what fun would that be?” he asks rhetorically, and swats me again–with the bare paddle. I screech—damn, that hurts!–and he chuckles.
That should have been my first warning.
“I don’t know why we even have this,” he muses, and hits my ass with something stingy, “this mini-flogger with the leather tails, we never use it. I know why we have THIS, though,” he says, and I hear a CRACK! as a line of fire flares across my ass. I yowl in earnest, then whimper and wiggle a few times, waiting for the pain to die down.
“I so need to get rid of that fucking crop!” I gasp when I can breathe again.
“You’re not allowed to get rid of it,” he says smugly, “I like it.”
He beats me with other implements of destruction for a few minutes. My ass is getting warm, and everything is starting to feel more like pleasure and less like pain. I pout when he stops.
Then I hear it the sound of a dial, and I smell ozone.
“Oh, shit!” I say, with real feeling. I love my violet wand, I do, but I also hate it, because he can **zzaaapp** me like nobody’s business with that thing.
He starts out slow, though, and I settle in and enjoy the lovely, light electrical charge against my skin.
“Well, that’s obviously not high enough,” he says, and turns the dial up. It’s a little stronger, but still bearable, and he is disappointed, because he wants to hear me yip. So he cranks it up again and I can hear it whirring, and I know this time, this time, it’s gonna hurt.
“No no no no no no no no no no!” I wail, not even waiting to feel it. He chuckles–an evil, evil chuckle–and zaps my cunt with a full charge.
I howl, I mean really HOWL, and try to flatten myself against the bed, but he just chuckles again, and starts working me over. Damn this blindfold, I can’t see where he is and I don’t know where he’s going to get me next until ZZAAAPP! and I scream again.
“Up,” he says, tapping under my rib cage. “Noooo,” I whimper, because I know what’s coming. “Up!” he says again, and this time there is no missing the command. I lever myself up reluctantly, and he grabs my breast, holds it still, then ZZAAAAPPP!!! right on the nipple. I scream–the kind of scream that, if we lived in the city, would probably result in multiple 911 calls. It takes me a few seconds to catch my breath, and I think “Okay, that hurt, but it can’t get any worse than that.”
He lets the wand build up another good charge, I brace myself–
And then he lets his Inner Sadist come out to play
Oh. My. God.
OH MY GOD!
Molten fire runs up my leg, across my back, and down the other side again. It is pain like I have never felt. I screech, buck, struggle to get away, but I’m trapped. The wand has never felt like this before, and I wonder what he’s doing different, but when he does it again, I stop thinking.
Finally he stops to let me catch my breath.
“What are you DOING to me??” I demand.
“Well,” he says, “you keep saying you want me to use the wheel on you.”
“That’s the WHEEL?” I ask in disbelief. “What are you doing to make it feel like that??”
He chuckles, and I gasp as he puts another stripe of fire across my ass, right where the crop hit me.
“You said you wanted to try using it with the wand,” he says, in an oh-so-matter-of-fact voice.
Well, wait a minute. I mean, I’ve used that thing on myself, with the wand, and it NEVER felt like this. Before I can gather my thoughts enough to ask another question, though, he leans over and runs it up my ribs, across my breast, and over my nipple.
I jump, and give another horror-movie-worthy scream.
“Don’t move!” he orders sharply. “You’re going to get hurt if you move.”
Going to get hurt? GOING to get hurt? What do you call this, then??
“I don’t understand,” I wail. “It’s never felt like this before!”
No answer, he just keeps running it across my breasts and nipples, down my stomach, across my labia, back up again. Back to the legs, up my back, around the front again, over and over. I am yipping and kee-kee-kee-ing, running through my entire repertoire of “Fuck that hurts!” noises, and trying so hard to stay still.
He goes back to my nipples, lingering there for awhile. My poor nipples are never going to be the same, I think sadly to myself. Then around the back side, down to my anus, and–holy shit, if I thought my nipples were sensitive, they have nothing on my asshole. I struggle to stay still, scared of what those sharp, electrified spines will do to my ass if I move wrong.
“Don’t move,” he says again, and runs it up my labia from the back, up to my pubes, then back down the center line, and across my hard clit.
At this point I discover that I can scream much, much louder than I had ever thought possible.
And also that I can not keep myself still under this type of assault.
He pulls the wheel away. “I told you not to move!” he reproves me.
“Would you be able to stay still if I was running that thing across your balls and up your cock??” I demand, not really caring that I’m being obstreperous.
“That doesn’t matter,” he says calmly, “because I’m not the one that’s tied up.”
“You’re a sadist!” I screech. “I don’t care whether you like that term or not, you are an absolute SADIST!!”
And he chuckles. The bastard CHUCKLES.
Then I feel his hand on me, stroking my clit, my pussy. I’m hot, and wet, and my clit is hard, and when he pushes his finger up into me and strokes my g-spot I forget to breathe. I push back against him, his hand so warm, his finger hitting just the right spot…and then it’s gone.
Then he’s in front of me, and I can smell him, his familiar, intoxicating scent. He grabs a hand-full of my hair and guides my mouth down to his cock. I pull him into my mouth, hear him groan, and groan back, loving the feel of him in my mouth, the taste, feeling him fuck me deep, into my throat.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth?”
“Mmph,” I say sadly. “What that a ‘no’?” he asks. I nod. “The correct response,” he says sternly, “is ‘if you wish.'”
“Mmph mmph mmph,” I say, which he correctly interprets as “If you wish.”
“Okay,” he says, and pulls away. I blink. Right, I don’t want him to come in my mouth, because I want him to fuck me—but that doesn’t mean I want him to stop now!
Then he’s behind me on the bed, his cock against me. He teases me for a moment, and then slams it home, to the hilt, smack against my cervix…And it is amazing. I’m surprised, every time, at how good it feels when he does this, but this is even better than usual, so good that I see fireworks behind my eyes.
I become aware that I’m making noises, that I’m saying…something…words! I’m saying words!
“God, Daddy, yes, please, so good…so good…Daddy, please, I love you, please!”
He fucks me until he comes, then collapses on my back. I snuffle…I haven’t come, and I really really want to.
“Don’t worry,” he says softly, “I’m not done with you yet.”
He releases my cuffs and pulls me to lay against him, spooning me, stroking my hair, murmuring to me. I shake in his arms, I always shake at some point during scenes, and he keeps talking to me, soothing me, making it okay.
“Who do you belong to?” he asks me quietly.
“You, Sir,” I answer.
“That’s right,” he affirms. “You are MINE. Do you know why you’re mine?”
“You’re mine because I CHOSE you.”
Sometimes he says just exactly the right thing, and this is one of those times. I snuggle back against him, as close as I can get, and rub my face against the arm that’s cradling me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We talk for awhile, quietly, about the things that couples talk about in times like this, and after awhile, he says, “Now it’s your turn.”
He turns me onto my back, kisses me lightly, and starts stroking my breasts, rubbing and kneading them. As the good feelings start to spread from my nipples to my clit I spread my legs wide and reach down to touch myself. He keeps playing with me but he’s watching me, too. He likes watching me masturbate for him, and it excites me, and my arousal builds. I close my eyes, concentrating on the feelings we are wringing from my body, my left hand scrabbling at the blankets, needing something to hold onto…he puts it on his cock, which is hardening again. I open my eyes and see him watching me, and it’s so hot, watching him watch me as I play with myself—playing with His wench, His pussy, His cunt—and my arousal skyrockets.
I feel my orgasm building and he murmurs to me, words of encouragement, and then it’s there. Sensation pulses out from my clit to my entire body, my hips jerking in response, and I can feel it to my fingertips and my toes…he runs his fingers over my ribcage and I swear, it feels like I’m coming there too, my skin is so sensitized and responsive, and as it starts dying down I realize I don’t want to stop yet, so I don’t. I keep playing with myself, and he keeps murmuring to me, and the second one comes much quicker, it always does, not as strong but still good. And my body has a pattern—the first orgasm is strong, the second one weaker but still good, and the third one blows me away—longer, stronger, and better. So I go for number three, and he is tugging on my nipples, talking dirty to me, his little slut, his whore, am I going to come for him…I can feel it, it’s so close, I’m not quite there yet, and then he starts counting…
No no no, I shake my head, no, don’t put me on a time limit, it’s too much pressure, I can’t come that way!
No! I shake my head again, and manage to mumble, “No, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Three.”
I feel it getting closer and I think I might actually get there in time….
“Oh god, oh god, yes, Daddy, yes…”
And I explode, I come apart, it feels like my clit is three times its normal size. I can feel it pulsing and I feel myself squirting while I come so hard, so so hard, and the fireworks again…
Eventually I remember where I am. I open my eyes and look at him, and I smile.
“Better?” he asks.
“Better,” I confirm, nodding happily.
He smiles. “Good,” he says. “Do you realize that you came on a countdown?”
I nod enthusiastically. “I’ve never been able to do that before!” I say.
“That’s right. But you did great tonight.”
I wiggle, happy that I pleased him.
“That was really hot,” I whisper shyly into his chest.
“Yeah, it was,” he says. He pulls me in against him, and I go to sleep in his arms—happy, exhausted, and satisfied.
His inner sadist can come out to play any time. Any time at all. 🙂
(I love you, Daddy)
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(A story told in vignettes)
“Have I told you that I love your tits?”
“No, Sir, not recently.”
“Well, I do. They’re amazing,” he tells her, burying his face between them.
He is lying on his back, his cock balls-deep in her mouth. As she licks and sucks and licks some more, he groans, “God, that’s so hot.”
Later, after he comes, he tells her, “I love your sweet mouth.”
“Mmph mmph?” she asks, her mouth still full of his cock
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s just because your dick likes warm, wet places.”
“No, it likes your warm, wet places.”
“Yes, it does.”
She squeals and launches herself into his arms.
“Sometimes you say just exactly the right thing, Sir.”
She wakes with a surge of lust, panting and bucking her hips, his fingers on her nipples. He puts her hand on him, and she gasps as warmth floods her pussy. Not just wetness; no, she actually feels the blood rushing into her cunt, heating it. He rubs her mound, groans appreciatively, then slides his thumb into her mouth, pumping it, fucking her with it. She moans, low and desperate.
“Good girl. Such a good slut.”
She moans again, and bucks her hips against him.
“I think you need something else in your mouth. Something bigger. I think you need to suck my cock.”
“Mmph!” she agrees enthusiastically. He chuckles, that dark, dirty laugh that makes her clit throb, and she grinds her aching pussy against his leg. Then he’s on his knees, his cock bobbing in front of her face. She grasps the base and wraps her mouth around the head, swirling her tongue around him, tasting him. He tastes…right. Her man. Her Dom. All she wants in that moment is to please him, to pleasure him, to be used by him.
“I’m going to come down your throat tonight. I’m going to do it because I like it, and because I can do whatever I want to you. You’re going to suck every drop of cum out of my cock, and you’re going to love it.” She nods enthusiastically and mmphs at him again. She’s pumping him faster now, and salty pre-cum spurts gently into her mouth. She takes him deeper, deeper, almost deep enough to swallow around him, and then she feels his cock get thicker, and she knows he’s close…He grabs her head and fucks her mouth, hard, so far down her throat that she can hardly even taste him when he comes. She swallows around him and he groans and pumps harder, twice, three times, until he collapses across her.
She keeps sucking and licking until every drop of cum is cleaned off of his beautiful cock, and then licks him some more, just because she loves it, swirling his head with her tongue, until he laughs and tells her to stop. She gives him one last swirl, then pulls back, reluctantly.
As he lies down next to her, she stretches luxuriously, and says “Good to the last drop.” He laughs again and says, emphatically, “Yes, you are,” which makes her laugh too. He pulls her tight against him. She is so proud of herself, for making him feel good, for servicing him, and as she drifts back into sleep, she hears him whisper, “good girl,” and her soul sings.
He pulls her back against him, spooning her tightly, and rumbles happily. She holds his hand in hers.
“This is the best part of my day.”
He rumbles again.
“Do you ever feel like we were made for each other?”
“Yes…but what brought that up?”
“When I’m wrapped around you like this, it just feels so good. You fit just right.”
The spanking is wonderful. She can feel her ass pinking up, and warmth spreads through her pelvis. She wants more–more contact, more sensation, more ownership, more submission. He swats her again in the sweet spot and she groans and pushes back into his hand.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you,” he laughs. She nods enthusiastically, too happy, too subby, to speak coherently.
She can feel his cock under her, hard and ready, throbbing. She wants it, wants him, and so she flexes her hips down to rub her mound across his lap. He groans, and nudges her up on her knees.
“Lie down under me,” he commands. “I want my cock between your tits.”
She scrambles to get into position and squeezes her tits together, making a perfect valley for his cock. He starts to stroke between them and her pussy throbs.
He is facing her toes, his balls dangling enticingly in her face. She can’t resist the temptation, and reaches up to nuzzle them gently. She’s gratified to hear him groan.
“Lick my balls,” he says. She licks them delicately, teasing him, and giggles.
“Lick. My. Balls. Don’t make me tell you again.”
The menace in his voice goes straight to her cunt and she groans, spreading her legs wide and raising her pussy toward him. He laughs–he knows the effect he has on her, the sadistic bastard. Thank god.
She sticks her tongue all the way out and gives him a thorough licking. God, she loves his balls–the weight of them against her mouth, the velvety skin, the musky scent…her enthusiasm is obvious and he groans in appreciation.
“Good girl. Such a good slut. Who’s your Daddy?”
“You are, Sir.”
“And who owns you?”
“You do, Daddy.”
“That’s right. And what can I do to you?
“Oh, god! Anything you want to, Daddy!” she gasps, overpowered by the lust she feels every time he reminds her of her place.
“Do you know what I’m going to do now?”
“I’m going to play with my slut.”
“Oh, god! Yes, please, Daddy!”
He slides his finger up her dripping slit.
“Hmm. Somebody’s awfully wet.”
“Mmph,” she agrees, her tongue working his balls again.
“Such a good little slut, getting so wet for me.” She groans as he slides his finger into her cunt, just to his knuckle, and stops.
“Mmph!!” she protests, thrusting her pussy up to his hand.
“Do you want more?”
“Lick my ass, and you’ll get more.”
She groans as she licks a trail from his balls and wiggles her tongue inside him. He groans and she feels her cunt gush.
“Yeah, good girl. You love that, don’t you, my little whore.”
She doesn’t even bother to answer, she just keeps tonguing him. He flexes his ass and she wiggles her tongue deeper and she’s getting desperate, begging without words…and then he’s there, pushing his finger in all the way, pumping hard, hitting her G-spot with each pass, and god it feels good. He pushes another finger into her and he’s pounding her, slamming his fingers in and out, cupping her mound with every down stroke, and she feels the pressure building, getting close…
…and he stops. She howls in protest, which just makes him laugh. Then he pulls away from her. Dammit!
His voice drops, going all domly and growly and melting her bones.
“I’m going to fuck your throat now. Open for me.”
She opens her jaw, tilts her chin, and relaxes her throat. She loves this–his balls slapping her face, his cock down her throat, deeper than she ever thought she’d be able to take him, and it makes her feel so owned, so submissive, to take him this way. Her cunt gushes again, and again, a little more with each thrust of his cock, and then he goes rigid. He pumps slow and hard, his cock thick in her mouth, and then he slams it home, as deep as he can go. She swallows around him again and again, milking him, sucking him dry–and as he groans and shudders above her she knows her own power, the power to give him this, to give him herself, and she feels a fierce pride.
He shudders one last time and collapses on his elbows, pulling his cock out of her mouth. She pouts, but then realizes that his balls are dangling in front of her most enticingly again, so she flicks her tongue on the seam and he jumps and yelps, then laughs. She giggles too, high on the rush that submitting to him gives her.
He rolls to the side and starts fingering her pussy again, running his finger up to her swollen clit and back down to her cunt, until she’s panting and moaning in desperation.
“Touch yourself. I want you to come for me.”
She strokes her clit, slowly and gently at first, but she’s so far gone already that she wants more, more more more, and she reaches for the vibrator in the nightstand.
“Fuck yourself with it.”
She makes a pouting noise–she wants his fingers in her, not the cold hard toy–but he flicks her nipple and says “Now!” in that don’t-fuck-with-me voice and suddenly she wants nothing more than to fuck herself with the toy, to please him. She sets it to a low, deep, slow pulse and slides it into her sopping wet cunt–oh, god! The vibrations stimulate her clit from inside her cunt, while her finger does to work on the outside. It feels so good, and she knows he’s watching, she wants to please him, wants to come for him, but she’s not quite there yet…
Her cunt is so wet she can feel it dripping down her ass, the vibrator is throbbing away inside her and she’s close, so close, and then his eyes flash and he says “Come.”
And she flies apart in his hands, gasping and shaking and screaming.
Always, only, for him.
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….you tell your beloved,
“I will have my way with you, and you are going to like it.”
AND you keep your promise.
AND you play with your sub’s nipples so long and so hard–no clamps, no floggers, no crops, just fingers–that they’re sore to the touch the next day.
AND you give her several mind-blowing orgasms.
AND you come down her throat and growl a domly growl when she swallows around your cock, which makes her very, very happy.
AND you wrap her up in your arms afterward and ask if she feels better now.
And she does, and you hold her all night long, safe and sound, while she sleeps.
(I love you, Sir.)
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“You like bouncing against my balls, don’t you.” A statement, not a question.
Mmmmmph? I ask sleepily.
“Especially when my dick is buried balls-deep in your ass.”
Mmmmmph! I say again, a little more awake this time.
“I like it when you bounce your ass off my balls too.”
“I do. And I think I’m going to fuck your tight little ass tonight so you can bounce off my balls. Would you like that?”
Oh, god, yes Sir!
“Get yourself ready for me”
Yes, Sir…what do you want me to do?
“You’re going to fetch your vibrating plug, and I’m going to stuff it in your ass.”
Mmm, yes, Sir…
“Then I’m going to turn it on.”
“And then I’m going to go to sleep.”
I whimper loudly in protest.
“In one hour, you’re going to wake me up by sucking my cock. And when I’ve had enough of that, I’m going to fuck you in the ass. Do you understand?”
Yes, Sir, I understand, I sigh, relieved.
“Good girl. Now go get your toy.” I scramble to the toy drawer and pull out the purple anal bead vibrator.
Is this one okay?
“Is that the one you want?” I nod vigorously while rolling a condom over it. “Then it’s fine. Now, get up here and show me your ass,” he says, patting the bed.
I kneel in presentation, jumping a little when he smooths cold lube over and around my tight hole. He slides his finger in just a bit to tease me, and I thrust back against him, moaning.
“Hmmmm….I think your ass is ready for plugging.”
I make a garbled noise, incoherent and slightly desperate.
The toy nudges against me and I open myself, spreading my legs and thrusting back against it. He slides it in bead by bead, until it’s in as far as it will go. He twists the cap, and the Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz make me jump again. Oh god, it feels so good. I wiggle my ass at him, shivering all over.
“You like that, don’t you, you little slut?” he chuckles.
Oh, Daddy, yes. It feels so good.
“Do you remember your instructions?”
Yes, Sir. I’m supposed to lie here with the plug in my ass for an hour and then I’m supposed to wake you up by sucking your cock and then you’re going to fuck my tight little ass.”
Another chuckle. “Good girl. Let me sleep now.” I lie beside him in the dark, with the toy is buzzing away in my ass. It’s good, but something’s missing….
Sir, is it okay if I get my vibrator out too?
“Yes, you can use your vibrator. But be quiet now and let me sleep.”
Yes, Sir, I whisper.
I play with the vibrator for awhile until my clit starts to really sit up and take notice, and then put one of the nipple suckers on it. It sets my clit on fire, and my pussy gushes. I put the other two on my nipples, squeezing to get just the right amount of suction….ah, that’s it.
I let myself sink into the sensations–the engorgement in my nipples and clit, the vibration in my ass, my dripping pussy while I think about the fact that I am readying myself for my Master, which turns me on even more. My swollen clit is begging for attention, so I rub my massager up against the suction cup…the combination of vibration and suction almost makes me come undone.
I glance at the clock, and….20 minutes? It’s only been 20 MINUTES?? Crap! How am I going to survive another 40 minutes of this?! My clit is so tingly and wet now I can hardly stand it! I flop back down on the bed in disgust and frustration.
My movement disturbs Himself, who rolls over in his sleep and squeezes my breasts, then slides his hand down to my cunt. He pauses briefly when he encounters the suction cup on my clit, making a sleepy, questioning sound before he grabs it and tugs on it. I am seconds from going off like a rocket when he abruptly stops and rolls back over again.
I consider, suspiciously, that he might not actually be asleep, and that he did that just to wind me up a little more. In other words, I think he’s fucking with me. Then I remember…this whole scenario is set up to fuck with me! Right. I almost forgot that in the haze of pleasure surrounding me. 🙂
With 15 minutes left, the suction cups come off. My clit is swollen and exquisitely sensitive, and I start to stroke it.
The first orgasm takes me by surprise, hard and fast. I pant quietly, trying to let Himself sleep as ordered, but it’s so hard not to moan when it feels so good!
I rest a minute and then go at it again. The second orgasm is even stronger, and I gasp at the force of it while the shockwaves roll over me…
When it’s over, I realize the plug in my ass in no longer vibrating, and I reach down to find it hot to the touch. Oops–looks like I’ve killed another one! I turn it off and lie quietly, watching the clock count down the minutes…
And then it’s time.
I roll over and squirm under the covers. Himself is facing me, his cock hidden in the crevice between his thighs. I move his leg gently to so I can take him in my mouth…
I love sucking his cock when it’s soft, holding it in my mouth while it grows and hardens, and I whimper with the pleasure it gives me. He wakes slowly as I bring his cock to life with my tongue, and turns on the light so he can watch me suck him. He pushes my face down and I lick his balls enthusiastically. When he pulls me up by my hair to suck him again, my clit throbs with excitement, and I groan as moisture floods my cunt again.
“Ah, my little whore likes that, does she?”
Mmmph, mmph mmph, I mumble around his hard cock. Mmmph, mmph!!
He laughs, then grabs my hair again, pulling my mouth away from him. I mewl in protest and strain toward him, trying to pull his cock back into my mouth, until he gives my hair a little shake.
I look up into his eyes, dark with desire and crinkled in amusement, and smile back at him, feeling suddenly shy.
He order me to turn around, so I pivot and present my rump to him. He turns the vibrator on (apparently I didn’t kill it after all, I just wore it out 😉 ) and fucks me with it. I arch and moan until he growls, pulls the toy out, and kneels up to rub the head of his cock against me. Lust shoots through me and I push back against him.
He’s a lot bigger than the toy, and it hurts a little when he pushes the head in. I gasp and whimper a little, and he pauses to let me adjust.
“Okay now?” he asks me, tenderness and concern mixed with the Dom Voice.
Mmm-hm, I sigh, it feels good.
“Do you want more?”
Oh, yes, please, Daddy.
Please, please fuck my ass!
Then he’s pounding me, hitting bottom (heh) with every thrust, and I’m panting and begging for more, please, more! My arousal spirals up and up and up every time his balls slap against my cunt, the tension building and building as I rub my clit. Then he slams into me hard, shuddering and growling, and I know he’s coming in me, deep in my ass, claiming it, claiming me…and my ass belongs to him and only him, and that thought tips me over the edge into a third orgasm, the strongest yet, my cunt clenching, my ass grabbing his cock and holding tight while I ride out the waves.
Oh god oh god oh god, I cry, I’m coming, Daddy, I’m coming! Thank you, Daddy, thank you, thank you….
Later, satiated and happy, we lie curled together, spooning. “Good wench,” he whispers, nuzzling my hair, as I fall asleep in his arms.
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When I get back to the room—feet clean, mind confused—I find Himself sitting, still fully dressed, on the edge of the bed. I stop in the doorway, head bowed, until he calls me to him.
I pull off my nightgown and stand in front of him. He runs his eyes up and down my naked body, then points to the floor.
“Kneel.” Then, “Take my shoes off.”
This is one of his favorite things, even when we’re not playing. I like it because it makes me feel so submissive to serve my Sir that way. Tonight, it’s easy—Chucks instead of combat boots—and I have them off in no time. When I’m finished, I sit back a bit on my heels, eyes lowered, waiting.
“Give me your arm.”
He fastens one wrist cuff in place, then the other. Next, he motions for me to tilt my head forward. I pull my hair out of the way so he can buckle my collar in place, and feel myself starting to slip away…He tilts my head up and slides the blindfold into place, then releases me.
As I kneel on the floor between his feet I focus on being his toy–his to play with, to enjoy, to use however he wants, to torture if he the fancy strikes him. I feel myself slipping deeper and deeper into submission and my pussy throbs, hard, thinking about his power over me.
Without warning, he flicks my nipples and I gasp. My head up, more alert now, I wait…there! Another flick. Several more in quick succession, and I start to moan, but he stops. Dammit! I try not to pout: HIS toy. HIS schedule! My patience is rewarded when he starts to strike my nipples lightly with the crop.
smack smack smack
I can feel my nipples standing at attention as he attacks them from all sides, and I moan and whimper and thrust my breasts out as far as I can. He picks up the pace, putting a little more muscle into it now…It’s starting to hurt just a bit, and I gasp again, rocking a little on my heels but still thrusting my nipples out and up.
I stay In position when he stops, panting, until he pulls me toward him. I’m sure I’m going to get his cock in my mouth—but no, not yet. He crops my ass, back, and shoulders: lightly at first, just brushing my skin really, and I start to feel tingly all over. Then the blows come a little harder and faster, and I can feel my skin warming. He stops for a moment and I focus on the heat suffusing me, spreading from the impact points, waiting for the next strike.
I hear a whoosh, and the heavy flogger thuds into me. I feel it all the way through me, in my pussy, my clit, my nipples. He hits me again, and my pussy clenches in response. I moan through a quick flurry of thuds all over the back of my body.
He pushes me back onto my heels, and flogs my breasts. They’re still warm from the crop and the flogger feels so, so good, even—especially!–on my hard, sensitized nipples I lean into it as much as I can.
I peel my eyes open, then remember that I can’t see anything anyway and close them again. Holding onto his legs for support I pull myself upright and sway in front of him.
“Get on the bed.”
I scramble into place, listening to him as he walks around the bed. He tugs me forward a little bit, then clips my leash to my collar. That “snick” makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. I lie down, spread my legs, and lift my ass as high in the air as I can, and relax back into the flogging.
He pauses, and then…
Oh holy fuck, it’s that damn crop again.
[Let me explain something here: I am quite fond of the business end of my crop. You know the slapper, that little piece of leather? The part that’s supposed to make contact with the horse (or sub) flesh? I like that. But the handle, used as a cane, is another thing altogether. That, I hate. Well, I enjoy how it feels AFTER, the endorphin rush, and the spreading heat around the line of impact. But I hate it at the time.
[Does that all make sense? No? Good, ’cause it doesn’t to me either. LOL]
My Sir whacked me hard across the ass with the handle of the crop again. It hurt, I screamed, he chuckled. He did it again, same routine. Then back to flogging, which felt mercifully gentle, and a couple more whacks with the cane with predictable results.
Then, for the second time that night, he noticed my feet.
Oh my holy fucking mother of god.
I can say with certainty that I do not—do NOT—like bastinado. I kicked and screeched and kicked again, fluttering my feet really fast, trying to make it impossible for him to hit them.
Sadly, I did not succeed.
After a few good (??) strikes, he went back to the flogging my ass, then my cunt–gently, with lots of thud and no sting. It completely made up for the cane, and gave me the most delicious feeling in my girly parts.
Some uncertain time later (5 seconds? 2 hours?? who knows, I was floaty) he tugged on my leash and ordered me to the other side of the bed. I heard him unzip and leaned forward, eager to take his cock in my mouth, but he pushed my head to the side.
“Hmm, maybe he wants me to lick his balls first,” I thought dazedly; but when I dipped down toward them he fisted my hair and pulled me back up. His cock nudged my right cheek, so I turned a little, thinking “how on earth could he miss my mouth? It’s not like we haven’t done this before!”
“Well, OK,” I thought, “you’re the boss, but really, it’s not that hard to hit the tar—-”
Dick-smacking is a mystery to me. How on earth can that not hurt him? I mean, he was really going to town. If I slapped his dick that hard with my hand he would NOT be a happy man…
Smack smack smack smack!
I felt fluid splash on my face. “Hmm,” I thought, “what’s that now?” I licked the corner of my mouth and tasted cum–salty, warm, delicious pre-cum, spraying wildly across my cheeks from the force of the dick-smacking he was giving me.
My pussy throbbed, hard. Oh, god.
Here’s the second part of the dick-smacking mystery: It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t really feel good either. So why the hell does it make my pussy throb so hard??
I think I may have moaned a few times.
“You like that?”
Oh, yes, Sir, I moaned.
“You’re a good little slut.” I moaned again. “Good little sluts get rewarded.” I started panting, anxious for my reward, which I was sure was finally going to be his dick.
A click, then a sound like a swarm of angry killer bees…
Fuck! The violet wand!
Our violet wand is old, decades old, and it’s noisy. The higher the setting, the noisier it gets, and it was Really. Fucking. Noisy.
No no no no no no no no oh please no….
My right nippled exploded and the air was full of the smell of ozone. I shrieked. He chuckled. (I am starting to notice a disturbing trend here—I shriek, he laughs, and he does “it” again. Why does he even try to deny he’s a sadist??) He zapped me again, then got the other side. I started bouncing, trying to maintain position but still get the hell away from the wand.
….yes, sir, I whimpered.
He ran it down my back (which actually felt quite good), down to my ass, then back to my breasts, never quite in contact with my skin, while I yipped and squealed and tried my best not to move. He zapped my nipples a few more times and laughed when I arched my back up, trying (unsuccessfully) to escape the wand. I was trapped, and he knew it. Zap, zap, zap—back and forth, rubbing gently and then pulling away to let the electricity arc, and me shrieking loudly at every touch.
He moved down my body—sweet relief!!–to my cunt—oh, fuck! He moved it slowly, gently, down my slit, zapping me all the way. He pulled it back a little and let it arc toward my clit.
Back down, back up, then back again to my more, wartenberg-wheel-abused asshole, and—ZAP!!
He laughs,and does it a few more times. He starts to rub it deeper, harder, against my cunt. No more arcing, just the warmth of the glass and a faint vibration…I start mewing and pressing against the attachment. It feels so lovely, this way. He slides it up to my clit, rubbing gently, then letting me grind against it for awhile, and I can feel myself getting wetter.
He moves the head of the attachment down to my entrance and pushes against it, teasing. In a little, back out, in a little again, a little farther each time. I thrust back because oh, it feels good, and there’s no way it can actually slip inside–
Oh hell, it slipped inside!!
I giggle helplessly, thinking, a) wow, that actually feels pretty good!; b) what if it doesn’t slip back out again? and c) holy cow, what if it breaks off in there?!?
Himself seems to have none of these concerns, he just keeps gently thrusting, turning it a little now and then, rubbing Really. Good. Places with it, and it feels like someone with a very tiny little hand is fisting me…mmmmmm. I feel myself turning to jelly.
He runs his hands up my back, and sparks fly from his fingertips. I shriek and giggle, and he chuckles with delight. He plays with his electrified hands for a couple minutes, mercilessly attacking my nipples again, playing with my cunt, rubbing my clit, and probing my asshole.
“I think I’m going to fuck you in the ass now.”
“You have such a nice little asshole, so warm and tight. My dick can’t wait to get in there.”
“I wonder if I can get in there with the violet wand in your cunt? I think we should try, don’t you?”
…garbled, unintelligible speech that translates roughly to “I don’t think it’s gonna fit, Sir.”
Apparently he doesn’t speak garble, because he decides to give it a go.
His fingers rub cool lube against my tight little hole, sliding inside, stretching me to accommodate his girth. It feels good and I buck back against him, moaning as he slides a finger all the way in.
“That feels interesting,” he says, rubbing the edge of the attachment through my vaginal wall.
“Are you ready?”
I seem to have lost the power of speech completely by this point. I am thinking “no no no it won’t fit!” but he is hearing “yes yes yes put it in!” So he puts it in.
Surprisingly (to me, anyway), it fits. It’s not comfortable, but it does fit. Who knew!!
However, fitting does not equate to comfort. He pulls back out, then gently removes the attachment from my cunt. It leaves with another little ::pop!:: and suddenly I feel positively spacious inside.
He slides his dick back into my ass, much easier this time. He gives me a moment to adjust and then starts thrusting, gently at first, then bulding up, faster and harder….
“I want you to come.”
“Come for me. I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”
Dutifully, I reach down to my cunt and start playing with my clit. I am soaking wet, and my clit is almost fully engorged. I find it challenging to masturbate while he’s inside me, thrusting—I keep getting distracted.
“Woman! Play with yourself.”
Oh, right! Okay, back to the task at hand…I start rubbing again, focusing a little better this time. It helps that I’m getting closer and closer and my clit is adamant that I continue the process…After a minute or two, I can feel it, getting close, close, close, and then…
I’m cuh…cuh…cuh…cumming! Oh god, Daddy, I’m cuh…cuh…cumming!
The orgasm explodes in my cunt. My muscles squeeze down hard on his cock, buried balls-deep inside me. He rubs across my g-spot with every thrust, and I keep playing with my clit, eking out a few more orgasms. As the last one trails away he thrusts hard a few more times and empties himself inside me. I love the way he pumps, and stops, and growls, and then pumps again when he’s coming…finally he shudders to a stop, growls low one last time, and collapses against me. I squeeze his cock a few times and he chuckles raggedly, still out of breath.
“Woman, stop!” he orders finally. I giggle like a maniac again (orgasms make me so giddy!) but I do stop.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me close to him, and nuzzles my neck.
“You belong to me.”
Yes, Daddy. Always.
It’s playtime, and Himself has me bent over the bed giggling helplessly while he runs the Wartenberg wheel over my ass. I’m not intentionally being disrespectful, really I’m not, but the damn thing tickles! He retaliates by kicking my feet farther apart and attacking with a little more gusto. The giggles continue but they’re alternating with shrieks now, which seems to give him no little bit of satisfaction (the bastard—not a sadist, my ass!). The faster he rolls it across my skin, the deeper he pushes, the more those fucking little pins poke into my flesh and make me squeal. He likes it when I squeal, so he does it some more.
A few minutes in, he pulls my underwear down, kicks my feet apart again, and pushes me back down to the bed. Then he really goes to town—up and down the backs of my legs, over my butt, up to my shoulders and back down again. I’m giggling and gasping and squeaking and starting to slip into a nice, bottomy space when he orders me up onto the bed.
Presenting myself to him always pushes my subbie buttons, and I let out a happy little sigh as I settle into position. That earns me a swat, and then he’s back to turning my ass into a pincushion. He’s never used the wheel this much before, and I am thoroughly enjoying myself, moaning and wiggling and pushing my ass back in the universal sign for “more, please!”
And more is what I got. An unexpected more, a “more” from the “hey, it’s kinda fun to hurt you” side of Himself, who spread my cheeks and ran that fucking wheel across my smooth, hairless, and utterly unprotected asshole. That little trick elicits the first loud screech of the night, which makes him chuckle. And do it again. And again. And AGAIN. Until I’m begging and screaming for mercy and gasping “ouch ouch ouch dammit ouch!!”
Apparently, begging for mercy from a Dom who is happily exploring his sadistic side is an exercise in futility. o.O
The jukebox in my brain starts playing “the wheels on the bus go ’round and ’round,” as the wheel in my Sir’s hand strays down toward my labia. I freeze—no easy task with those pins sticking me!!–because this is not an area of my anatomy where I want to chance an accidental piercing. His evil laugh could give Vincent Price a run for his money and although I am indignant that he’s getting so much amusement out of my predicament, I stay frozen.
He runs the wheel up the crease between my thighs and my cunt a few times; then—carefully, gently—he rolls it up my labia, across my mound, and back down the other side. He repeats this circuit a few times. It feels surprisingly good, and being so utterly helpless makes me want to moan and press back against him; it takes all my willpower to stay still.
With no warning, he grabs my foot and starts running the wheel up and down the sole. I’m really ticklish so I go from not breathing at all to laughing, then screeching again as he runs it along the crease between my toes and the ball of my foot. Up along the arch, and I giggle; back down in the crease, and I’m squealing, and yelling “no no no no no no!”
He drops my foot and steps back.
“Your feet are dirty.”
Well, yes. I’ve been running around the house barefoot.
“You need to go wash them.”
I am boggled: we are in the middle of a scene and he wants me to stop and WASH my FEET.
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It’s bedtime, and I snuggle back into Sir’s warm body as he cups my cold breast and strokes my nipple. He’s exhausted and sick but he’s been gone 10 days, and I’m so hungry for him. I move his hand down to cup my smooth, bare pussy and arch against him, throbbing, wanting. He slides his fingers across my clit as I grind my ass against him.
“Did you miss my dick?”
Oh, god, yes sir.
“Good, cause my dick missed you too.”
Your dick didn’t find any other warm, wet spaces to crawl into?*
“No.” He chuckles, and slides his finger down to gently stroke my asshole. I wiggle against him.
“I like it when you’re smooth back here for me. It feels so good.”
Does it really feel that different?
“Oh, yeah. It’s amazing.” He strokes me again, then growls in my ear, “Do you remember what I did to you the first time you got your ass and your little pussy all smooth for me?”
You fucked my ass.
He starts fingering my ass—in and out, in and out. I whimper.
“You know what I want? I want to put my dick in your tight, smooth asshole. Do you like that?”
Oh, yes Sir!
“I do too. I think we’re going to do that now.”
“Oh yes, right now.”
“My finger in your ass is your warm up.”
He rolls over.
“Get up here.”
“Yes, on top.”
I climb on board and rub against him. He hands me the lube and I drizzle it down his cock, rubbing it all over, stroking him up and down. I lean forward to rest my head on his chest, reach between us, and smooth lube on my tight hole.
“Now put your finger in. Stretch it for me.”
I slide a finger in slowly, past the outer ring, thrusting and withdrawing.
“Now put two in. Feel good? Yeah? Are you stretching yourself for me?”
I’m really not sure about this, not at all. I don’t like being on top during anal. And I don’t want to finger myself, dammit, I want him to finger me. But I am an obedient slave, so I do it anyway. In and out, in and out…
….I stop thinking about the fact that I’m fingering myself, and start noticing how it feels. It’s…interesting. Smooth, much smoother than I had expected, much smoother than my cunt with its always-swollen g-spot. The muscle ridges are so strong, but elastic and stretchy. I scissor my fingers, fascinated at how it feels in there.
I have never done this before.
Fingered my ass.
He chuckles. It’s surprising to both of us to find something that I haven’t done before.
“Now get up here and ride my cock.”
I grab it and slide down until the head is inside and I feel full and stretched. A moment’s rest, and then I take the rest of it inside me. God, it feels good.
“Does that feel good?”
Oh, yes Sir!!
He chuckles again, then bucks up into me.
I close my eyes and concentrate on the feel of his cock in my ass. I want it deeper, harder, and so I push a little more. Still not deep enough, but I discover that when I push down as far as I can go, I can grind my clit against his pubis. I moan. I sit up straight for awhile. I can’t pump as hard, but he’s deeper, and I like that. Then back down, grinding my clit against him.
I love watching his face when we fuck.
“On your knees.”
I scramble down and present my ass to him, and he slams into me balls deep. I squeal, then bury my face in the pillow—we have a houseguest and I have to be quiet. He pulls out and slams into me again. And again. And again. I whimper and moan and thrust back as hard as I can.
Oh, Sir…fuck me, come in me, please!
When he comes he slams into me so hard I slide forward a couple of inches and scream a little before I can remember to bite down on the pillow. He pounds me again and again until he’s spent.
Please, Sir, one more, hard, please!
He bucks into me hard once, again, then shudders and collapses on top of me.
Thank you for fucking me in the ass.
“Good girl. You’re welcome.”
*Body Count’s Evil Dick
??? Um, no, not like that! Like this:
Oh, yeah. 😉
Yours truly is a bit of an exhibitionist. And there’s nowhere better to be an exhibitionist than a swinger’s club, where you can get up to all kinds of mischief without anybody complaining…let alone calling the police.
Himself is not (an exhibitionist, that is), and he doesn’t particularly “get” what the attraction of it is for me. He is, however, a loving Master, so he indulges me on occasion.
Our first time at a club, we started slow–just a little (fully dressed) nipple squeezing in the public lounge. It was fucking HOT and I was writhing and moaning in his arms while he played with me. I didn’t care whether anyone was watching or not–the fact that they might be was exciting enough.
A few months ago, we found ourselves in the couples room at a new, much nicer swing club. There were couples in every possible sexual position, groups in creative combinations, a few folks just watching. I focused on the couple on the bed next to us, enjoying the woman’s wigglings and moanings while her man ate her out with great enthusiasm (and, apparently, skill).
Himself held me close, spooning me and caressing me through my bustier. It felt so good, and I couldn’t stop myself from pushing back against his hard cock. He thrust back and my pussy throbbed, aching to feel him inside me. I wiggled some more and arched my breasts forward into his hand. He responded by rolling down the top of my bustier to expose my breasts and nipples. A bolt of pure lust stabbed through me, and I moaned and bucked my hips against him as he started rolling my nipples between his fingers. My head fell back against his shoulder and I was helpless, absolutely helpless, as he squeezed and tormented my nipples. He began flicking them and I almost came on the spot. He rolled me over and kissed me–hard, deep and oh-so-hot…
When we headed back to the club a couple weeks ago, the club was packed and the couples room was literally standing room only. I rubbed my crotch against his, groaning; he responded by pulling down my strapless dress and bandeau, baring my breasts completely. When he reached down and started playing with my nipples, my knees almost buckled and my pussy liquified. I leaned up against him for a kiss, then whispered “I want to suck you so bad right now.” He leaned down and, in that deep dark Dom voice that I love so much, whispered “I just might let you.”
I felt his hands on my shoulders, pushing me to my knees, and then I had his lovely, hard cock in my mouth. The surge of lust in my belly was so strong, I almost fell over; when he tangled his hands in my hair to hold my head while he fucked my mouth, I went into subspace so far, so fast, that I completely lost track of where I was.
When I opened my eyes some time later, still sucking and licking him, I saw people watching us while they played with their own partners in a crazy, sexual feedback loop. God, that was hot. Eventually he pulled me to my feet, held me tight to steady me, and helped me to cover myself. Then, on fire for each other, we went home.
He says we can do that again. I can hardly wait. ::moan::
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I am hurt, angry, and feeling neglected, so I lash out, hurling complaints and demands at you. No matter what you say, what you do, how you hold me, my anger grows. I can see your face tightening, your expression becoming distant and angry, but I can’t stop myself.
Finally, exasperated with me, you sit up on your heels, arms crossed, mouth tight.
“Stand up,” you say, your voice cold and hard.
I stand, still crying.
“Take off your bottoms,” you order next. I ignore you, so you repeat yourself.
“Why?” I ask, sobbing.
“Do it. Now.” Your voice brooks no disobedience. I finally take them off, still radiating anger and defiance even though I’m obeying your command.
You grab the back of my neck and push me face-first against the wall, gently but firmly. You hold me there, your grip on the nape of my neck strong, commanding, masterful. You lean in close to my left ear and growl, your voice deep and menacing:
“When I tell you to do something, do it.”
I shudder, turned on by the rough hand on my neck, but still angry and hurt. It’s confusing to me and I don’t know what to do, how to respond to it.
“Lift your nightgown.”
I comply, reluctantly, and you pull my silky panties up out of the way, baring my buttocks. Your other hand is still holding me tight against the wall. You press your body against mine; I can feel your cock nestling into my ass.
“Stop crying,” you order me, but I don’t. I can’t stop it now, even if I wanted to, and I don’t, really, because I want you to know.
You whisper in my ear, and it confuses me again, how a whisper can be so soft and quiet, and yet so full of danger:
“Stop crying, or I will give you something to cry about.”
Of course, this makes me howl, and your response is swift and punishing, a harsh swat. I wail, and you spank me again. I sob helplessly, another swat. Another wail, another swat. I lose track of how often you spank me, deep into my wailing and keening. Then it stops and I gradually come back to myself.
“Strip,” you demand with that growl.
God, normally I would love this, the dominance in your voice, your hand hard on the back of my neck; but tonight, it just adds to my misery, and I find myself completely frozen, unable to comply. Another hard swat, the penalty for disobedience. I jump, then slowly pull my nightgown over my head, shimmy my panties down to my ankles, and stand with my head down, a submissive pose despite my reluctance to obey you.
Your hand turns me around and propels me forward until my knees hit the mattress. I crawl onto the bed, slowly, feeling no joy in my submission. “Down,” you say, with a light push on my shoulders. I kneel down in a presentation pose, your favorite for spanking me. I know what’s coming, and I wince, waiting for the first blow.
Instead, I hear you opening and slamming drawers. I flinch at the sound, at the controlled violence in your movements.
“Where are the floggers?”
“In the toy bag,” I sniffle, “under the bed.”
You are angry, really angry, I hear it in your voice. You’ve never hit me in anger or spanked me in punishment and I’m scared. I continue sobbing quietly. I don’t want to, I’m afraid of making you angrier, but I just can’t stop. And the fact that I can’t stop, that I’m probably making you angrier, just makes me cry harder.
You swat me again, hard, with no warning or warm up. I shriek and scream. Another blow, and I jump and move my legs closer together.
“Keep position,” you snap. I move them apart again, slowly, dreading what will come next.
“Next” turns out to be the heavy flogger. Christ, you can make it sting when you want to. I scream and cry and plead with you through a few fast blows–five, maybe ten. I kneel in the silence, sobbing, apologizing, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” you say. But I don’t believe you. And you know I don’t believe you, 15 years have taught you how to read me, but you also know at this point that nothing you say will convince me.
You push me forward, across the bed, and shove my knees farther apart, and I feel your cock just outside my entrance. Then you’re in me, taking me, hard and fast, and it doesn’t hurt but I cry anyway, because that’s all I seem to be able to do at this point. You set a demanding, punishing pace but I stubbornly stay still. I don’t want to enjoy this, I don’t want to respond, and I try my hardest not to, but it just doesn’t work. I was wet when you went in and I can feel myself getting wetter, expanding, stretching to accommodate you, and my mind, my traitorous mind…my mind finds it incredibly arousing that you are taking me like this, taking what you want when you want it, using me, because you can, because I belong to you, because you own me.
I feel myself start to rock a little, and I feel betrayed by my own body, which insists on enjoying the fucking machine you have become. You hit bottom, hard, and I gasp and lurch forward. You pull me back, hit bottom again, and I moan and thrust back, fighting it but losing the battle. After that you hit it with every stroke and I push back into you, helping you to ram into me harder, and I gasp and moan and the feeling keeps building, keeps building deep down in my cunt, the darkest recesses, pleasure and pain together so overwhelming that it takes my breath away. Lust, desire, arousal, submission, they swirl together to create the perfect storm and the pleasure is too much, too strong, too glorious and you plunge into me one more time and push me over the edge, and I come. I stop breathing for just a moment and then I moan, the sound skirling up into a helpless, ecstatic cry of relief and amazement and I’m mumbling, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
You grab my hips and pull me back onto your cock, hard, so hard I can feel your pubes brushing my ass, and again, and once more and you come too, explosively, rocking me so hard I nearly collapse under you, and still you pump into me until finally, with one sharp jerk, you hit bottom once more and shudder to a stop, gasping, doing that all-over shiver you do when it’s really good. I feel you collapse on me, your chest blazing hot against my back, your cheek on my shoulder.
We pant together, both of us exhausted and wrung out. You ask me quietly, almost gently, whether I feel better now, and that’s when I realize that I’ve stopped crying. I understand, finally, that you weren’t mad at me after all. I have begged for a rough scene, for menace and danger and a hard master, and tonight, when I needed a reason to wail, to scream, to let out all the bad feelings, that’s exactly what you gave me. And the catharsis has left me calm, peaceful, and soothed, the emotional distress gone.
You gave me exactly what I needed, before I even knew that I needed it, and all that is left is joy, and the knowledge of your love for me.
B&D, balls, BDSM, Breast, came like a train, clit, cock, cock worship, cock-worshipping submissive, Crop, Cunt, D/s, Dominant, fellatio, Flogging, Himself, Kink, Master, Masturbation, orgasm, pussy, Relationships, rimming, Scene Report, sub-space, submissive, taint, WIITWD
I heard the familiar command: “Woman, come here,” and found Himself in the hallway. He arched his eyebrow at me, guided me into the bedroom, bent me over the bed, and swatted me. It was a good swat, a good, solid, THUMP connecting with that sweet spot where your thighs and your ass meet. You know, that spot where the vibrations echo up into your ass and down your legs and across your back and into the deepest recesses of your cunt. Yeh, THAT spot.
I got a few more of those. Six? Ten, maybe? I’m not sure. That sweet spot gets me so subby so fast that I tend to forget (how) to count. My brain got fuzzy and my ass got higher as I relaxed back into my Master’s hand. I felt the moisture gathering between my legs, and I’m pretty sure I was purring.
He stood me up to strip off my dress and tank top, then shimmied down my shorts and panties (unlike The Dom Next Door, Himself prefers a naked ass to practice his happy whackery on) and bent me back over the bed. I closed my eyes as the short heavy leather flogger hit my ass. It was softer than he usually hits me, warm and relaxing, and I could feel ripples spreading out from the impact. Another, and my ass came up a little; another, and up a little more. Before I knew quite how it happened I was standing on my tip-toes, arching my back down and my ass up, reaching for the next blow, greedy, demanding, and impatient. I rolled my hips a little, squeezed my thighs together against my clit, and moaned. Oh yes, oh yes, please, again, right there, oh……
He nudged my feet apart. No, farther. Yes, that’s it, hold it right there. The long heavy leather flogger can hurt like a motherfucker, but he started out light-ish, no pain, and I felt all warm and tingly, across my ass and up my back. But he swung it harder, and harder, and it CRACKED every time it landed. I squealed and moaned and he switched it up and flogged my pussy, not too hard, not too direct, and I jumped but it felt good, I was so wet, just floating out there in happy-sub-space.
I have recently expressed interest in trying a cane. I am terrified of it, and fascinated by it at the same time. Terrified, because goddamn it looks like that hurts like a sumbitch; and fascinated, because goddamn it looks like that hurts like a sumbitch. I’m not at all convinced that my ass has worked up a hide thick enough for a cane…and although I’m developing a taste for pain, I’m not that far into yet. And if we did decide to try it I would want to go slow, really slow, and gentle, because I’ve seen butterfly-kiss taps with a cane leave outrageous stripes. It’s something we would have to work our way into very carefully, and so, I have decided that, for now at least, it will remain a fantasy.
Apparently, Himself did not get that memo.
I got an almighty WHACK across the ass with the riding crop handle. OMFG. Seriously, that pain was just…well…fuck, I don’t even have words. “Took my breath away” is far too mild. It left a line of fire across my ass and I gasped, yowled, and tucked my butt under in the antithesis of my happy-ass-reaching-for-the-blow move. He did it again–WHACK! and I jumped and yowled again. The third time, in almost the same spot, did me in and I screamed. I mean, I SCREAMED. I screamed loud enough to make the dogs, who were in the back yard, start barking. And then he did it again, and I screamed again. Screamed, and cursed.
Himself said, “Well, you said you wanted to try a cane…this is pretty close.” I huffed back, “Not yet! And not that hard!”
So of course, he WHACKED me again, just as hard. Bastard. LOL
He started flicking me with the tip of the crop, which felt like gentle kisses after the handle treatment.
Himself: “Do you like it when I just use the end?”
Me: “Yes, Sir!”
He continued fluttering little crop licks all over my ass and lower back, even my upper legs, and it was feeling good. I started to relax and stick my ass back out, and WHACK! he got me again. I screeched. A screech, in case you don’t know, is several orders of magnitude louder than a scream. I think they probably heard me in downtown Portland.
He chuckled. Goddamn, I am married to an evil, evil man!
He took pity on me, though, and rubbed my poor, abused cheeks. His hand felt really cool; my ass, he said, felt really warm.
Yeah, I knew that, Sir. Thanks for the update though. 😀
He left to let the (still barking) dogs back in the house, and I stood up–well, wobbled up, mostly up, probably canting a bit to the side–to wait for his return. I took the opportunity to rub my ass–man, he wasn’t kidding, it was warm, and then I craned my head around back, and even with my glasses off, I could see the red glow. I smiled. A glowing wench is a happy wench, even if she doesn’t always like the process that got her there.
Dogs taken care of, Himself grabbed a flogger–the short heavy leather flogger, I think–and starting flogging my tits. He wasn’t hitting hard, not yet. In fact, he used this technique where he’s spinning the flogger like a wheel, and so it’s not as constant or as hard as when he makes a direct hit. Damn, it felt good. I felt myself smiling–my goofy, “please Sir, may I have some more” smile. Then he started flogging side to side–right side of right breast, left side of left breast–and it hurt, because the night before, he had smacked my breasts, mostly the right one, with the flat of his hand. They were swinging to and fro and having a good old time and he kept whacking away at them until the right one turned bright pink, and he stopped and said “I think you may have bruises from that.”
So, yeah, the tits were sensitive, and they did not appreciate the heavy flogger, not at all.
But no worries! He switched it up again and started doing the wheelie-thing in reverse, so the tails were hitting the underside of my breasts with a little smack-bounce that made me moan and lean into it. That went on for awhile, with the leather flogger and then the rubber flogger and then back to the leather.
He stopped to flick my nipple, and I gushed. He liked that, so he grabbed the other one too, and started pulling me up, down, forward, and up again, and I gushed some more. By that point I was listing so badly that he had to use them to pull me (more or less) upright.
When I couldn’t stand up anymore, it was time to bend me over again. More happy whackery ensued, until my ass was pleasantly sore, my legs were trembling, and my pussy was dripping.
Himself nudged me up onto the bed, then flipped me over and pulled my butt closer to the edge. He dug through the toys and found a thinnish blue vibe that I haven’t used in ages, handed it to me, and said “Masturbate.” The vibe didn’t seem real promising, considering that what I wanted in me was his cock, which is considerably thicker, but I obeyed the order and started playing.
The thing with vibes is, if you (or, at least, I) use them too early, or too long, they can make….things….numb. Things that you don’t want numb. So when I use one, I wait until I’m getting close before I touch vibe to pussy. And since I wasn’t close yet, I just held it, waiting for The Moment, and got my right hand to work on my clit.
I was enjoying the proceedings when Himself left the room. Um…Now what? Was I supposed to keep going? Or stop and wait? I decided to be a good Marine and Follow The Last Order (inside joke), and I kept going. Scraping sounds, and Himself was back, with…a chair? Yes, a chair. Oh my god, an audience. Gulp!
Now, I’m not shy about masturbating, I do it all the time, and I know he likes to watch. But he’s never set up a chair like that, with a direct line of sight to my cunt, and just…WATCHED. It was very different from having him lay beside me, playing with me or having me suck him while I masturbate. It was much less intimate…and much more so, at the same time. It was weird.
It was also, once I got used to it, a major fucking turn-on. I started doing my best to perform for him, to entertain him, to please him, which got me even hotter. I slid my fingers inside, come-hithering my g-spot, then up to my clit, and back in again. I was getting frustrated that I couldn’t have my fingers in both places at the same time, when I suddenly noticed the vibe buzzing away in my left hand. Oh, right, the vibe! Not my usual pocket vibe or Hitachi, but an actual penis-shaped vibe, specifically designed to fit a hungry cunt. Oh, happy day!
I worked it in and out, pumping a little, trying to find the magic spot…oh, yeah, there it is! I worked my clit with my slick fingers while I worked my pussy with the slick vibe, and the closer I got, the harder and deeper I pushed it, and I was so wet, and so hot, knowing he was watching everything, that I was doing it for HIM, and I remembered that my pleasure belonged to him, my pleasure and my orgasm…and that pushed me right up to the brink.
I gasped out, “Please, can I come, Sir? Please?”
When he said yes, I came like a train. I swear, that orgasm came from my toes and worked itself all the way through my body and out my mouth in a deep, guttural, completely un-ladylike growl. I rode it, and kept stroking, and came again, a little stronger this time. He ordered me to keep going, and I did. Although I can usually keep going and going, like the energizer bunny, these were so deep, so strong, that I was exhausted by the time I got to number four.
But I didn’t stop there, I couldn’t. Not when I could feel number five waiting for me, out of sight, just around the corner, one more orgasm to be wrung from my exhausted, almost satiated body. I knew I could coax it out, and I worked my fingers and that vibe, wanting just…one…more. Please? Please?! Please!!!
Then, oh my god, it hit me. It was like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel: wild, out of control, a little scary, a lot exciting, and ultimately exhausting. I collapsed, panting, eyes closed, vibe forgotten once again, mumbling incoherently, “That’s it…all I’ve got…can’t…anymore…”
I heard clothes falling to the floor and smiled, knowing Himself was coming to join me. I wondered vaguely what we would do next. I was glad I didn’t have to figure it out, since I wasn’t entirely sure I even knew my own name by then.
He kneeled beside me, put my sticky fingers on his cock, and I started stroking it. I forced my eyes open and there we were, eye to eye. Master’s cock and I. It winked at me, which made me happy, so I kissed it. And it tasted good, so I licked it. That tasted even better, so I slid my mouth down over the head and started sucking his lovely, lovely cock.
I turned on my side to get a better angle. Himself cradled my head in his hand until he could get a pillow for me, which I found very sweet–both the cradling, and the pillow-getting. With my head situated I focused on the job at hand (heh) with fervent enthusiasm. He pumped into my mouth and I bobbed back and forth on his cock, very happily, and then he pulled out of my mouth and pushed my face toward his balls. I dove in, lapping and tonguing them–long strokes, short strokes, swirling strokes–while he took his cock in hand. He stroked, I licked, and while I licked, I wiggled, getting farther under him. My tongue stayed busy-busy, licking and lapping, as I scooted back again, and again. He was getting close, I could hear it in the way he breathed, and I slid back again…just a little more…until I reached his taint. He groaned as I licked voraciously, moaning myself, humming a little, because damn, I love licking that spot, the way it feels, the way I know it makes Him feel.
His fist was moving faster, and the very first, early shudders of his body told me it was now or never. One more push and I reached up and slid my tongue into his ass. And that did it, like it always does, it drove him right over the edge and he came, and came hard, panting, shuddering, gasping, and I felt his hot cum hit my tits. I moaned again, and if I hadn’t already exhausted myself I probably would have come again, just from that, the cum on my skin, and licking his ass. I shimmied back out, just in time for him to slide his still-dripping cock back into my mouth. I sucked him and licked him until he shuddered one last time and pulled out of me.
As he got up to shower, I smiled happily and mumbled “I’m just going to stay here and bask in the afterglow, if that’s okay with you.”
It was, and I did.
There were constant reminders of our morning play–the residual pain in my poor flogged pussy, the lovely well-fucked feeling in my ass and cunt, the memories of sucking him that would flash in my mind at random and leave me panting and gasping…But the biggest reminder of all was my swollen, aching clit and throbbing, unsatisfied pussy.
Yes, you read that right–I was still unsatisfied. You may wonder how that’s possible, even for Himself’s greedy little slut. First, let me say: Don’t judge. 😉 Second, allow me to explain:
Of all the (9, 10, or maybe even 11!) types of orgasms we’re capable of, I most often have clit, deep-spot, cervical, g-spot, or anal orgasms–sometimes more than one kind at the same time, which is just as fantastic as it sounds. I’ve also had oral orgasms (when pleasuring Himself), skin orgasms (when he comes on me, especially on my face), and fantasy orgasms (look ma, no hands!), and I’ve come really, really close to a nipple orgasm (guess we’ll just have to keep practicing on that one). I love them all, and I can’t really say I have a favorite.
I am horny most of the time (take that, menopause myths!), which means I want orgasms a LOT. The easiest type for me to have alone is, unsurprisingly, a clitoral orgasm. I also get g-spot/squirting orgasms from clitoral stimulation when I am that special kind of horny that comes from lots of teasing from Himself, or prolonged exposure to kinky shit, or nipple pumping, or days without sex (Himself travels a lot), or pleasuring Himself multiple times with no relief for me….
Once I’m at the level of horniness, nothing, and I mean nothing, will get rid of the never-ending clit hard-on or the g-spot engorgement except for a clitoral orgasm. If I’m really, really turned on, it can take 5 or more in quick succession to get real relief.
So in our Sunday morning scene, I had this great, fantastic, mind-blowing deep-spot orgasm and I was a happy, happy wench. But I was on all fours and for some reason that I have not yet figured out, I haven’t had a clitoral orgasm in that position in years. This is inexplicable to me; how can I be capable of 25 orgasms in a row on my back, but can’t have even one on my hands and knees??
Whatever the reason, it doesn’t happen; even with Himself, myself, and the vibrator working away, there was no clitoral orgasm. Which left me with a weird combination of satisfaction and frustration that lasted All. Damn. Day.
I told him in the shower, right after our scene, that I was probably going to want sex again Sunday night due to the orgasm issue. I’m not sure he thought I was serious, but by bedtime, I was crawling the walls, and I knew there wasn’t going to be any sleep for either of us unless I got off.
He demurred. I begged. He demurred again, and I begged some more. After torturing me for a while with thoughts of a sleepless, horny night, he finally had mercy on me, and ordered me to get naked. I got naked really fast. 😉
There’s a direct connection between my nipples and my cunt, and when Himself plays with my nipples, I’ll be squirming, gasping, and writhing within seconds. He likes those reactions, so he gives them a lot of attention. He started rolling them between his fingers, and pinching them, and clamping his fingers on them to twist them, pull them, and shake my breasts.
Then he started the flicking. OMG, I love the flicking. We discovered this a few years ago–neither of us can figure out why it took us so long–and from the very first time, it has worked to get me hotter faster than just about anything else he does to me. Flick, flick, tug, pull, flick, roll, tug…After a few minutes he grabbed my breast with one hand, immobilizing my nipple and forcing it to stand up tall and rigid, and then he flicked that captive nipple *hard* with his other hand, and I felt a gush of liquid in my pussy with every flick.
I dipped my fingers in my cunt to massage my g-spot, then out to rub my clit, and back to the g-spot…I was so wet I could feel it dripping down to my ass, and that excited me even more. I started focusing on my clit with only the occasional detour into my cunt, I felt every stroke deep down inside me, and oh god it felt good.
As I got closer, my clit got bigger and harder, my cunt gushed like a river, and I was moaning in ecstasy, and then Himself flicked my nipple really hard and said “Come,” and I did. The first orgasm hit me like a freight train, and before it even stopped the second one rolled over me, and then the third, and that was the strongest one, the one that took it all out of me, and I collapsed, squirting and panting and delirious, mumbling oh god, oh god, so good, oh fuck…
I came out of my post-orgasmic daze when Himself used my hand to rub his cock. He gets turned on watching me masturbate, and he was sporting a very impressive cock-stand. I held him naked in my hand, silky and warm and hard, and I stroked him, moaning with hunger for him. I took him in my mouth, and the taste and feel and scent of him got me wet and throbbing all over again. I sucked his cock and licked his balls and sucked his cock again. I was doing my best to suck the chrome off his tailpipe (heh), and he liked that, I guess, because he got even harder. I tasted pre-cum on my tongue, and then he pumped his hips hard and growled and came in my mouth, and I bucked too, because it turns me on so fucking much to make him come.
As I licked him clean he stroked my hair and said, “Well, aren’t you an obedient little wench?” I paused and asked, “Was I a good girl?” He chuckled and said, “Yes, you were a very good girl.”
Those are some of the sweetest words a wench can ever hear from her Master, and it made me very happy indeed. I snuggled down onto his shoulder, smiling in the dark, and fell asleep in his arms.
anal, BDSM, chains, clit, cock, cock worship, Collar, Cuffs, cum, Cunt, D/s, Domination, Flogging, fucking, greedy little slut, Himself, Kink, kneeling, masturbating, orgasm, pussy, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex, sub-space, submission, the Dom gets what the Dom wants
(Read Submission, Part 1)
When he was done flogging me, he handed me my trusty pocket-vibe.
Me: “Yes Sir!”
(I really can’t convey the fervent nature of that response in print, so you’ll just have to imagine it for yourselves. ;))
I did my best to follow orders, while he stroked a finger up and down my slit, and then slid it deep into my pussy. It felt good. Really good. I got lost in the feeling of his body inside mine, but I wanted more—I wanted his cock in me. I pushed back against his hand, begging, and felt a second finger slide into my cunt.
I shuddered as my pussy clamped down on him. He kept pumping me, in and out, in and out. It wasn’t his cock, but it was good, and I relaxed into the steady rhythm of it, enjoying the sensation of his fingers filling me, and the buzzy vibrator on my clit.
Then I felt a finger slide into my ass.
And I was gone, just completely gone. I forgot the vibe, I forgot everything except the feeling of his fingers inside me, and I was soaring, just giving myself over to it…and then I felt another finger push into me. Honestly, I don’t even know which hole it was that time, I was so far past rational thought by then. I can’t even describe how it felt, to be so full, and have him stroking me so hard, and harder, and harder…
And then he put another one in.
I fell completely apart. I mean, I was not even in the same solar system anymore. I had, by my (admittedly questionable) count, 5 fingers filling me, and he was pumping them in and out, so smooth, so hard, and it was unspeakably good.
And then my husband, my Dom, my Master, my MAN, he took it up another notch, and started stroking my clit. I remember thinking, “What is that, 6?! how is he DOING that?!” And then he drilled into me, hard, really hard, and…
I’m aware that some women don’t like cervical contact during sex, but I am not one of those women. Hitting bottom is one of the (many) things Himself does that I had never experienced before him, and I love it, I can’t get enough of it. And I was feeling so good already, I didn’t think it could get better, I didn’t, and then he proved me wrong, again, because he hit bottom, and he kept hitting bottom, every stroke, his fingers filled me, and my clit was swollen and aching and it just got better, and better, and then everything inside me just exploded. I could feel my cunt clamping down on his fingers, and I felt the orgasm thrumming deep, deep inside me, and it kept going and going, with every stroke another spasm, until he gently slid his fingers out of me.
That was when I learned, once again, that I am a greedy little slut, because I wanted more. Before I had even finished coming, I was pushing back into him, wanting his beautiful cock inside me. And he obliged, yes he did, because he loves his greedy little slut, and so he filled me with his cock, and he fucked me. Ecstasy rippled across my nerves every time his cock slid over my swollen g-spot like an unstoppable cascade of tiny little orgasms. I was on pleasure overload. My hands and feet were tingling, and they only tingle for truly exceptional sex. Exceptional, powerful, mind-blowing, intense, kinky, hot, animal sex.
And then (wait for it, wait for it)….
It. Got. Better.
He pulled out of my cunt and drove his cock deep into my ass, still stroking that g-spot with every thrust, and I lost what was left of my mind. At some point I realized, through the fog of sexual pleasure, that I had a death-grip on my chain (remember the chain? yup, still there), and I felt like I was filled with helium and if I ever let go, I would just float away.
(Have you ever seen Disney’s animated Peter Pan? Do you remember the big Newfie, Nana, who floated to the end of her chain after she got fairy-dust bombed? Yeah, it was just like that. :D)
I had another series of tiny little orgasms while he fucked my ass, which reminded me of the vibrator, which had been buzzing away by itself, completely unnoticed, for a very long time, and so I grabbed it, and put it to use. His cock in my ass, the vibrations on my clit, and those tiny little orgasms running through my body kept me orbiting happily out in deep sub-space, right up until he pulled out of me.
I still wasn’t done, dammit. I wanted him to come in my ass so I could come with him, and squeeze his cock and milk him dry. I whimpered, but he just patted me on the rump and told me to stay as he walked out of the room.
Then he was back, standing over me, pumping his cock next to my cheek. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him, and I could hear him, and that got the tremors going again. By the time he got close we were both breathing hard, masturbating for all we were worth, and then I heard his breath catch the way it does right before he comes so I turned, just a little, so my cheek was under his cock, and then…I almost came again, just from the submissive jolt I get when he comes on my face. I sighed contentedly and opened my mouth to let his cum drip onto my tongue. Mmmm, it was warm, and salty-sweet, the delicious taste of my Man. I licked my lips and smiled as he collapsed against me.
When he could move again he took off the blindfold and cleaned me up, unclipped my chain, ran his hands down my back, and took off my collar and cuffs. I love this part of it, the soft happiness and fierce joy that I feel when he takes care of me after a scene.
Later, in the shower, because it was still bothering me, I asked him why he didn’t come inside me. Was I doing something wrong? Was it…bad? He laughed and said, “I just fucked my wife in all 3 holes and then came on her face. That is not ‘bad.’ Do you know how many men would love to be able to do that? And I get to do it any time I want.”
Hmm. Well, okay then. Ignore my momentary lapse of reason and sanity. <BEG>
And then, because it was still bothering me, I asked him if he had been mad at me when we started.
Himself, puzzled: “No.”
Me: “I thought I’d done something wrong, that you were punishing me, that that’s why you were hitting me so hard.”
There’s this look he gets on his face when he’s simply confounded by the emotional knots I’ve tied myself into. He gave me that look, shook his head, and said “I was doing that because I wanted to.”
Me, in a very small voice: “Oh.”
I was relieved to know I’d (eventually) figured that one right. And I only asked him two more times before I believed him.
I also had to know how he’d worked the finger thing; I couldn’t visualize how he had room for both hands down there, or how he’d moved them together so well. He showed me what I am calling the scissor technique: hands in prayer position, then spread the fingers: pinkies up by the clit, ring fingers and one middle finger in the cunt, the other middle finger and an index finger (or 2) in the ass.
Fucking brilliant. That one has a permanent place in the play book.
I had a big, goofy grin on my face for the rest of the day.
And the night.
But that’s another story. 😉
(Read Submission, Part 2)
Well, it was supposed to be a Saturday Night Submission, actually. But sadly, the s-type had a nasty headache. And the d-type declared a rain delay because, and I quote, “I don’t want to beat a woman who already has a headache.” The woman in question proceeded to pout. The d-type was not swayed (dammit). “I’m taking care of you. That’s my job, remember?” Crap. What an inconvenient time for him to remember that. LOL
He promised morning play instead. I went to sleep with visions of sugar plums (or something) dancing in my head.
Sunday morning I woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for some good play time. The d-type, again, had other ideas.
“Go put the clean dishes away, clean up the kitchen, and load and start the dishwasher.”
OK, fine, so I followed the orders from my favorite Lieutenant, even though all I wanted to do was throw myself at him. I was being a Good Girl ™, with hopes that I would be suitably rewarded. Then I found myself getting horny—from cleaning the kitchen, fergawdsake–just because Himself had ordered it. Seriously, us s-types are truly wired weirdly sometimes.
Kitchen done, I wandered back into the bedroom, and stood by the bed in my lacy boy shorts…and nothing else.
(Imagine these in black with turquoise embroidery…and, um, a few sizes bigger. I’m a plushious wench :))
Himself (in seriously sexy black boxer briefs): “Get your restraint collar.”
I dove into the toy bag and started pulling out leather stuff. One cuff, two cuffs, three cuffs…Collar!
Himself: “Get those out too.”
Me: “The cuffs?”
I dove back into the toy bag and found the elusive 4th cuff….after I pulled everything else out of it. I really need to get that damn thing organized.
::scrambling to kneel::
“Lean forward.” As he fastened my collar, a bolt of pure lust shot through me.
He rubbed my face against his still-clothed (dammit!) hard cock. Up, down, sideways, and across, repeat…
I. Wanted. To. Taste. Him. So. Bad. I may have mouthed him a bit (oh, who am I kidding? There’s no “may” about it), but otherwise I behaved myself. Okay, I admit, I whimpered when he pushed me away. But really, who can blame a wench for that??
Himself: “Put your cuffs on.”
He left the room while I scampered to obey. Each buckle I fastened made me feel just…that…much…more…submissive. And wet. Let’s not forget wet.
When he came back, I was kneeling up on my side of the bed, facing him, eyes down, hands on my thighs, drifting on the edges of my happy place.
“Come here.” Oh, how I love that stern, commanding voice. I crawled across the bed and kneeled in front of him. He reached under the bed.
Wait, did I hear…jingling?
My cunt spasmed when he clipped the chain to my collar; I gasped and shuddered while he blindfolded me. Then, finally, I assumed the head-down-ass-up position that he prefers, my hands holding onto the lovely, lovely chain.
I was lying there in a happy daze, when–SMACK!!, his brought his hand down on my left ass-cheek, HARD. I squealed in shock. Before I could recover, he grabbed my ankles and pulled them back and out.
Then–CRACK!! Something thin and hard struck my right cheek. I jumped, and felt the heat spreading out from the thin line of impact. The crop, with with no warm-up. Fuck!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!! I yipped. He hit me with the long, heavy leather flogger–across my ass, on my back, on the outsides of my hips and thighs– WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!! He was merciless.
I started to worry. Had I done something wrong? Was I being punished? Why was he flogging me so much harder, so much earlier than usual?
He pushed my thighs farther apart. I waited, trembling, and then WHAM!! A hard hit straight to my wide-open cunt.
Oh holy fucking shit my christ. He has never hit my pussy that hard before, and spread open like I was, I had no protection at all for my tender pink dangly bits. He hit me again, and again, and again…I screamed and howled. I raised up my pussy as far as I could, trying desperately to get away from the evil *thing* he was hitting me with.
I heard myself whimpering. It fucking *hurt*so*bad.* I was very close to safe-wording, for only the 2nd time ever. I wondered for a second whether he was getting rougher, or I was getting wimpier. Then he whipped me again, and I knew, it was definitely not ME that had changed.
He started working my ass and back again. Compared to the serious pain of him whipping my swollen, unprotected clit, the flogger hitting my ass felt almost gentle.
That doesn’t mean I wasn’t still howling, though. I clenched the blanket in my teeth and howled non-stop. I was sniffling by then, too, thoroughly convinced that he was mad at me for something. My mind was trying so hard to make sense of the situation, and that was the only reasonable explanation I could think of.
It never occurred to me that he was just doing it because he enjoyed it. Seriously, it did not. I was not firing on all cylinders at that point.
It stopped, thank god, and then he was at my head.
Himself: “Are you okay? Is it too much?”
Me: “It’s kind of hard…it hurts.” ::snuffle snuffle::
Himself: “It’s okay, it’s okay.” I whuffled again. He stroked my hair, and just like that, I relaxed. When he pets me, he gives me such a feeling of safety, peace, and well-being…it’s balm for my soul. I sank into it and let the fear slip away.
He moved, and my nose bumped into his naked cock. Silky skin over a hard cock…there’s nothing like it. My heart started thumping.
Himself: “This is how you get a flogging break—by pleasuring me.” My pussy clenched in response. I think I forgot to breathe for a minute.
I knew then that he wasn’t punishing me, because he gave me his cock to worship. He knows that’s a treat for me, and that I am always happy when his cock is in my mouth.
I took the head of his cock in my mouth and lapped at the drops of pre-cum. The salty-sweet taste of it burst on my tongue. I took him in as far as I could. I wanted him to know that I adore his cock; I wanted him to know how much I love doing this for him. I licked him and tasted him and smelled him, and I wanted more…
…he grabbed my hair and pulled me away, and I whimpered, I didn’t want to let go. Then he guided me down to his balls…Oh, I love his balls, almost as much as I love his cock, and I licked them joyfully, breathing in the intoxicating, musky scent of Himself. It’s like a drug to me, irresistibly sexy, and the lust I feel when I smell him goes straight to my pussy and leaves me dripping wet.
I was in my happy space. I knew he wasn’t mad at me, and I felt loved and cherished. After that, the thud of the flogger and the smack of his fists against my ass warmed my whole body. My muscles were heavy and relaxed, the endorphins were kicking in, I felt every blow deep in my core. He flogged my cunt again, more thud and less sting, and I could feel my pussy swelling, so wet, dripping down my legs…Oh, I was ready, so ready for him.
(To be continued…)
My Master came into the bedroom Saturday night to find me kneeling face-down on the bed, naked, ass in the air (his favorite pose), wearing my collar and holding out his leather Master bracelet. The ritual of undressing, putting on my collar/cuffs, and posing puts me into a very nice place, but when he snapped that bracelet closed…wow. Strapping on his own leather meant he was about to claim me for his own, and it shot me straight into a deep submissive state.
I clenched my hands in the blanket and waited while he decided what to do with me. The toy bag rustled a few times, then I heard it start…the buzzing. Oooh, the violet wand!!
We’ve had our violet wand for years (and it’s OLD—Sears and Roebuck from the early 1900s, complete with an instruction booklet on using electricity to cure all sorts of ills). IMHO, we haven’t used it nearly enough. I am an electro-stim slut. I’ve been wanting to play with the wand and our new Wartenberg Wheel but that, of course, is up to him, and he had other ideas.
He started out fairly light, but gradually cranked it up until it was near the highest setting (Note: MDM says it was actually nowhere near the highest setting. Well, frack me. It sure as felt like it was!). It went from buzzy/warm/a little stingy to OMFG Jesus H Christ that STINGS oh please please please do it again!!! Which he did. So there I kneeled, unbound but holding position as ordered, with here a zap, there a zap, everywhere a zap zap…
His favorite targets are my nipples. Because I have large breasts, my nipples are squashed against the bed when I’m kneeling, so he gave me a little nudge on the side of my breast to get me to raise up a little. Then he put the wand near my right nipple… close…closer…CLOSER…until the arc shot out and I screamed. He held it there for a few seconds, then moved to the left one, then the right one again, back and forth, because he wouldn’t want one of them to feel left out, right?
Eventually my nipples were red and stinging and I was squealing, so he decided to move to a different target for a while. Down on the feet, back and forth, then up one leg, across my butt, down the other leg…all in close contact so there was just a nice warm buzzing. Next came an unexpected assault on my feet, one then the other, zapping up and down and across my toes. I am not allowed to move or even wiggle much, and curling my toes or (god forbid) kicking while he’s actually working on my feet is definitely Verboten. I had to just lay there and take it and squeal until he got bored again and moved on.
Note: “Squeal” may not be entirely accurate here. “Screaming bloody murder into the blankets clamped in my jaws like a gag” might be a little more on the mark. Heh.
Of course, my cunt was next. He’s so good at getting it just…close…enough that it arcs. Holy fuck, but that’ll wake a girl up! He zapped my clit a few times, then moved back to my asshole, then the labia, and back again. Every once in awhile, just to mix it up a bit, he’d move it in real close and hold it right against me—clit, vagina, asshole–so it was just warm and buzzy. As soon as I would unclench and start rubbing my pussy up and down the glass head—ZAP! I felt like Charlie Brown and that damn football, I just never learn. LOL
The nice zappy violet wand went away and there was more rustling in the toy bag. He waited long enough for me to relax, unclench my hands, unclamp my jaws, and stop screaming.
We have two custom floggers made by a guy named Tree in Houston. They’re made of thick, heavy, buttery-soft butterscotch-hued leather, one with (thirty-nine) 14” falls, one with (thirty-seven) 27” falls. The short one gets a lot more use, since it has a shorter throw, but I am especially fond of the long one.
Master grabbed the short one and gave me a good whack across the ass. I yelped and jumped a bit and then stuck my ass back out, just begging for another one. He went to town with that for awhile, across my butt, the backs of my legs, my nipples, and my pussy.
Pussy-spanking. Mmmm. That deserves a little detour.
I have recently (very recently, in fact) come to terms with the fact that I seem to be a bit of a masochist. I’ve always liked a little pain with my pleasure, but I thought it was all in the context of the kinky D/s dynamic. IOW, if he wanted to do it to me, then it would make me hot, and I could enjoy it. At some point that changed (or my awareness of it did) and it appears that I now like pain (mild pain, but pain nonetheless) for pain’s sake. It’s taken me awhile to wrap my head around this, because I’ve never thought of myself as a masochist of any type. Hmmm.
MDM figured it out long before I did, so he’s been incorporating more pain into our play for awhile now. In the last few months, he’s started flogging/slapping/spanking my breasts and pussy. It makes me stupid hot. So glad he pays attention to these things!
Anyway, back to the flogging. He’s also figured out he can flog me harder, now that I’ve come to enjoy pain, and boy, does he take advantage of that. Used to be, he’d flog me for awhile, and I’d maybe yip a couple times, but mostly just bask in the warmth spreading across my butt. Now, there’s a lot more screaming involved. A LOT more. I bite down on whatever is close when that happens—blankets, this time; the straps on my wrist cuff, last time—but it’s still a really good thing that we live in the country or I’m sure we’d have the police at our door. Weirdly enough, I love the screaming. Instead of trying to stifle it, I just go with it, as loud and as long as I need to, which he likes, which leads to more flogging, which leads to more screaming, and so forth and so on. It’s a lovely vicious cycle.
I screamed louder and longer this time than I ever have before. My throat was raw. But it felt so primal and I was so damned proud of myself for not having to safeword.
Which leads to another detour. I’ve never safeworded. Never. There have been a few times when I’ve gotten, maybe, to chartreuse. Never all the way to yellow, and certainly not to red. So I’ve just sort of assumed I never would. Not that I don’t have limits, but they seem to be expanding at the speed of sound, so I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually hit one. That will be important in a bit.
MDM put down the flogger and commenced to tickling me. I’m extremely ticklish and never enjoyed it until MDM started doing it. Of course I’ve always protested because, well, because I did. Tickling my feet is actually less difficult for me than tickling the sweet spot right where my ass meets my thighs (don’t tell him I said that, he doesn’t need that kind of intel! LOL). He wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted out of my feet, so he moved up to my well-flogged, red, sensitive, bottom, and holy cow did that tickle! I was squealing and jumping around as much as I could and still maintain The Position. OMG did I get the giggles from that! I love giggling in scene.
He asked if I’d had enough. I responded, like a good sub, “It’s up to you, Master,” even though I wanted to scream “No no no! Never enough!” Then he used his lovely deep Dom voice and said, sternly, “I asked whether YOU have had enough.” I replied promptly, “No, sir!”
Then he brought out the long flogger. This one is as heavy and thick as the short flogger, good for thuddy play, which is my preference. But since MDM has to stand farther away, it tends to actually be a lighter stroke, distributed over a larger area, and more likely to induce the warm-happy-fuzzies that I love most about flogging. This especially happens when he flogs my back with it. The throws are long enough to cover my back from shoulder to butt, and it’s such an incredible sensation that I feel, with every stroke, that I am just-that-close to coming. Delicious. Oh, I love my floggers, and I was definitely in my happy place. IMHO, it didn’t last nearly long enough. But then, I don’t think I’ve ever actually had “enough” flogging.
He put the flogger down, and walked out of the room. I focused on unclenching my hands and spitting the blankets out of my mouth. Then I heard it—the freezer door, opening. His hand, in the ice box. The freezer door closing again.
And I started whimpering.
A few weeks ago, he decided to make me perch my pussy on an ice-cold can of soda while he flogged me. OMFG. I like sensation play, including temperature play, but christ, that was cold.
Saturday morning, he decided it was time for me to get up and since I wasn’t cooperating, he brought in an ice cube, stuck it in my underwear, and told me I couldn’t take it out until I got my ass up and into the bathroom. I moved fast, lemme tell ya, but I think it’d already frozen some of my dangly bits.
I was not looking forward to a repeat experience!
He started out slow and gentle, though. A little on the nipples, just enough to make ’em perk up and take notice. Then my ass, where the heat from flogging made it melt—really fast—and trickle icy water down my legs and onto the bed. I started relaxing, thinking hey, this isn’t so bad.
A word of advice: Never, ever let yourself think “This isn’t so bad.” The universe just sees that as a big, fat challenge.
Just as I started pushing my butt back into the ice cube, the Man ran it down between my cheeks, then held it firm against my asshole.
I screamed. Man, did I scream. The soda can had nothing on that ice cube for sheer cold torture.
He laughed. A deep, low, nasty little chuckle, actually. That chuckle is never a good sign for me. I gulped.
He moved it, thank god. Right to my clit. Where he held it. For a long time. Wait, why did I want him to move it again?!
I screamed some more. Wiggled a lot. Just about bit through the blankets.
He moved it again, and used his hand to push it just inside my cunt.
OMFG. OK, I know I said that already, but seriously, I’m running out of descriptors for just how sadistically fucking COLD it was. I started screaming and didn’t stop, just one long scream, and I actually pushed away from him, trying to get away from that fucking ice cube. He growled “Get back in position,” which I did, screaming and whimpering.
Back to my asshole. Back to my clit. Back into my cunt. Holy jesus.
I have no idea how long that went on. It seemed like hours but since he only used one ice cube, it was probably actually about a minute. I remember screaming “I’m really close to safewording!” and hearing that chuckle again. The ice went back on the clit and stayed there and it was too fucking much. I screamed “Safeword! I’m serious, safeword!!”
The ice disappeared. My screams trailed off into whimpers and I collapsed down on the bed, rubbing my pussy against the blankets, trying to warm it up.
He stood at my head, rubbing his hands up and down my back, warm and gentle and strong. Comforting. He chuckled. I chuckled. I squeaked out “Holy fucking safeword, Batman!” and started giggling.
We sat up In bed together after, talking. He was surprised I safeworded. I was surprised too. He asked if I was OK and I just sat there with my eyes half open, a goofy smile on my face, floating happily on the endorphin rush.
I think I may have asked when we could do it again. But next time, no ice cubes. Please? Please, MDM?
Wait, is that a chuckle I hear? ::twitch twitch::