Falling...
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Posted:Mar 10, 2017 7:52 am
Last Updated:Nov 6, 2020 3:38 am 13853 Views
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Falling...
Too bad people didn’t fall in love at the same pace, at the same time, for the same reasons, and too bad those emotions didn’t move simultaneously. But each act of madness moved at its own pace, one not dependent on the pace of anyone else. It wasn’t like tandem skydiving, where you were connected as you fell, where you were forced to fall at the same rate and use the same parachute. Falling in love was a solo act. I knew that, had learned that the hard way. You just jumped and hoped your parachute opened. Sometimes you looked up and saw you were falling by yourself, the object of your desire still on the plane, not interested in jumping, watching you descend into that scary place alone.
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Lil Red's Orgasms...
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Posted:Mar 9, 2017 7:38 am
Last Updated:Mar 10, 2017 3:08 am 13126 Views
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I was breathing hard, as hard as I could with the gag biting into my lip. I could feel the table’s cold
leather beneath my back, pressing the flesh where the straps bound my thighs and ankles. My arms
were raised above me, my legs splayed open, vulnerable and exposed.
I had wanted this, right?
Damn, I had begged him for this. “Please Daddy,” I could still remember the desperation in my voice.
“Take me further,” I had said. This man owned me. Owned me in a way no man had ever come close
to. Usually, he was so caring, attentive, looking after my every need. But he knew. Hell, we both
knew... there was a darkness in my soul, something unknown, hovering just below the surface,
something dark and primal that I had been too frightened to look at for more than just a fleeting
moment. Until now.
I knew he was there, I could feel his presence, hear the slight catch in his breathing but I couldn’t see
him, for the mask that I wore cut out all possible light. I heard his footsteps now as he slowly circled
the chair, the spikes of his cowboy boots clicking on the tiled floor. He came no closer and time
slowed for me, slowed to the beat of a pulsing heart, to the throb of an aching need. The world turned
on its axis and still, I was here, bound, gagged and splayed for his pleasure.
My mind turned in on itself. What was he going to do? The thrill of the unknown sent a tremor
coursing through me and then the air parted softly as the leather tip of a riding crop met the soft skin
of my belly caressing it gently. That first touch jolted my nervous system, firing synapses. As the crop
was dragged along my flesh, my breasts hardened and puckered at the leather’s soft kiss, it circled
and teased for what seemed like an eternity. I felt my wetness grow and I tried to arch my back in a
desperate attempt to direct the crop downwards towards by aching sex, but the leather cuffs allowed
no resistance. I received a tap with the crop for my trouble, a delicious sting of pain mingling with the
sweet pleasure of anticipation.
The crop trailed down my inner thighs to my toes, my sex was molten fire and as the crop returned
its journey, I desperately wanted to thrust my hips forward, to welcome the crop to my desperate
pussy, but it continued up my body, past my neck, moving gently over my full, red lips. Then stopped.
I waited.
Quiet ensued, I could hear no movement and the air was motionless; still and timeless as I strained
to listen but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. I felt my wetness drip, trickling down
between the cheeks of my ass. Time stood still, an eternity since the leather tip crossed my mouth.
Did I do something wrong? Anticipation knocked against my ribs. Simultaneously, I heard and felt the
sharp crack as the crop struck sharply at my left nipple, the sound of the leather echoing as pain
rippled through me, the sting, the burn of my flesh made my throat open in a scream only to be
muffled by the ball of the gag in my mouth. I breathed in through my nose in an attempt to dull the
pain, manage it in some way. Seconds later, my right nipple was struck with the same intensity.
“Fuck,” my mind screamed and was in freefall as it grasped at nothing that could save it from this
onslaught. Bound, gagged and blindfolded; I was going nowhere. Even my screams were bound from
escape. But this is what I wanted, wasn’t it? My mind attempted to process this information as the air
in the room felt thick and heavy.
Silence.
I tried to focus on my breathing, my heart pounded in my chest, breath ragged. Fear’s icy leather
gloves squeezed at my guts, I tried to cry out, “Daddy where are you?”
When the silence was finally broken, his voice had a darkness to it. “What? I am sorry I did not hear
you, speak up.” My left nipple was struck hard, I tried to twist and buck in the chair. “What is this?” I
just had time to process what he has said as the crop struck my right nipple again. My cries were
muffled as I feel the tip of the crop rest on my belly followed by silence. Where would the next blow
come? Fear and exhilaration pounded through me, my nipples stung as I began to feel a welt rising
but to my surprise I feel my wetness grow, seeping between my legs in a hot, feverous rush.
Breathe, I reminded myself. My body flinched as I felt his touch, but this was gentle, not what I had
expected, Mentally prepared for more pain I was surprised to feel his firm fingers running through my
wet lips with the lightest of touches then in over my clit, “Mmmm,” a soft, slow murmur escaped his
lips, “so my little slut likes pain I see?” I felt the lightest of taps from the crop across my belly. “I did
not know that Master’s little slut enjoyed such attention or I would have brought you these sensations
before.” Those words make my mind race, “slut,” and “Master.” Words I never before heard him say
before but they rang as true and pure as a crystal bell and at that moment, I knew, I saw the truth.
Master had always been with me, hidden in shadows of my heart. Hold on to him tight, Baby Girl, I
said to myself as my Master began tending to his wilful, little slut.
He placed a hand just above my mound, then quickly slid a finger inside me, I grabbed hold
desperate for his touch, he slid another finger inside. The feeling of those fingers inside my flooded
cunt was such sweet relief, I needed to feel something inside of me, I was so close to cumming but
when he slid his fingers out, they stayed out for what felt like minutes, my sex screamed for him, but
the mounting orgasm fell back. Then, finally, he entered me again, in and out in a slow, delicious
finger fuck before peeling back my folds to reveal the blossoming bud within. I groaned and a shiver
of anticipation ran through me just before he and pinched my swollen clit, the pain travelled through
my core but then was followed by three sweet, slow finger strokes from clit to cunt.
After each stroke, the tip of his finger slid just inside me. I felt my orgasm swell and rise; I began to
relax into it but then, just as the tide began to peak, pain exploded in my left breast with three hard
strikes. As my body registered the shock and stinging pain, my right breast was also stuck three
times. I felt the air part and heard the swish of the crop as he struck me just above the sex. Then a
sharp blow met its mark between my open and vulnerable lips, striking my aching clit. To my horror, I
came hard, my body convulsing, screaming into the gag as my sweet juices gushed forth. That
exquisite sensation of pain and pleasure finally gave me some release from the mounting tension and
I rode out the orgasmic wave, lost to this room, the pain and myself as pleasure exploded, radiating
an orgasmic fallout through my entire body. The aftershocks lingered but when I came back to myself
I was met by quiet.
A stillness had returned to the room, soft and menacing as my cum dripped and pooled onto the
leather beneath me.
His voice, hard-edged and cold was close by me. His whispers seeping through the darkness and
into my ear, “Did I say you could cum, you fucking slut?” My mind raced for an apology, I wanted to
beg for his forgiveness, shit I would have prostrated myself on the floor before his feet in apology if I
could move. But I could not. “Sluts only cum when given permission,” he said, “and you are Master’s
slut.”
That word, so cheap and foul from anyone else’s mouth, but isn’t this is what I asked for? This was
what I had subconsciously craved and Daddy knew me well enough to know this. Everything he did
was for me. I would never stand for anyone calling me a slut but tonight, from his lips, at his hand; I
embrace the new title and role.
“I am Masters slut,” I said simply to myself.
However as the silence folded itself around me once more, the fear returned, creeping in through the
cracks in my mind. I knew my Master would and must punish me for cumming without permission.
Hell, even Daddy would spank me for that, but I had a feeling Master was more intolerant than
Daddy.
So when fingers began to glide through my creamy folds, I was surprised yet again. “Mmm, a shame
to waste this,” words like honey, soft and sweet. Master's firm hands wrapped around my thighs,
spreading me wider, pulling my thighs harder into the table. His tongue, quick and nimble began to
lick at my folds, devouring my cum. My clit, still engorged, quivered in ecstasy at the delicate flicks
and licks it received. My orgasm was explosive, it came so quickly. As Master’s tongue sucked at my
sex, devouring it, I became feather and air, rising into the pleasure, pushing the pain away. But
Master wasn’t finished, as I was cumming he dug deeper, his tongue in my cunt licking my core then
back to my clit as his three fingers rammed into me, pushing in, stretching my sex until I came again,
quick and hard, quivering in a pool of my own nectar.
“I see you have not learned a damn thing, my slut,” anger resonated around the room. I heard his
footsteps echo against the tiles and fear, insidious and cold, cast its shadow over me, “I show you
kindness and you disrespect me, again.”
I knew that trying to twist my body away was futile, so I drew a deep breath through my nostrils and
exhaled as the assault began. My attempt to control the pain was futile as Master began to cane the
exposed underside of my ass, each strike hit harder than the one previously. My ass was burning and
part of my mind wanting to cry out, “Please, Daddy, make it stop, make the pain go away.” But then,
there was another part of me, some connection between mind and body that screamed, “ More
Master, more. My flesh is yours. “I lost count of the strikes, overwhelmed yet excited, I felt my
wetness seep beneath me once more. Never before have I felt so alive, so turned on. How could this
be?
As the unmistakable sting of the flogger burned into the flesh on my soft, inner thighs, I felt the welts
starting to form on my flesh, pain overcome reason as I twisted in a futile attempt to escape, my
bonds digging into my flesh as I tried to move. My exposed body seemed more vulnerable than ever.
You asked for this Lil Red, didn’t you? The voice inside my head whispered between the blows. This
was your desire, wasn’t it? Don’t you feel it? Your body craving this, loving this, Master’s complete
control of your flesh, even in pain… I felt the next orgasm rising, begging to be freed. He is owning
you Lil Red; embrace the freedom he is giving you...
The flogging stopped and as I tried to gain breath I heard footsteps. My heart began to pound. What
was coming next? I only had time to register my thoughts before clamps were put onto my hard
nipples, making them sting, a thin chain running between them rested on my flesh. “Since you like
cumming so much, let's see how you handle this.” His words were accompanied by the distinct sound
of a vibrator buzzing.
The head of the Hitachi wand was pushed firmly against my clit. “Cum you slut,” Master ordered. The
combination of his command and the relentless stimulation placed against my engorged clit meant I
came instantly. Within seconds I was cumming again, Master’s voice repeating the command over
and over, “Cum you slut, cum you slut,” in an erotic mantra that freed my mind and body.
Over and over I responded as his commands spurred me on, the vibrations burning through my sex
until I was desperate to feel no more. “No, Daddy, no more,” I tried to beg in vain.
When I thought I could stand it no longer, he forced me to cum again, my mind lost in sensation and
words, no longer attached to my body but flying free somewhere. My body was having one hell of a
time, but I felt as though my mind and my soul were cumming too. I lost count of these new orgasms.
Six? Seven? Ten? I was a quivering mess of soaking cum and sweat when he stopped. My mind was
unable to think clearly, my clit was swollen and bruised, my flesh sore from the struggle and the
restraints that bound me.
Cool relief came in the form of an ice cube placed on my clit, soothing as it melted. Despite
everything, my body still responded to his touch, exhausted as it was and even though he had put me
through this ordeal I still craved to be fucked by him. I felt my Master’s palm push down just above my
sex, a finger resting so gently on my clit as the chain between my nipples tightened. Desire fluttered
and stirred within me.
“Let's see if you have learned anything, my slut?”
His words filled me with joy, I had earned my title, I had become master’s slut and I burned with
pride. I was proud to be my Master’s slut, to be for his use, for I knew that in serving him I was
ultimately serving myself. My Master, whom I loved so deeply, could take anything from me because
he gave so much in return, he had earned my submission with love and devotion and this new role
was ultimately fulfilling something dark and wanton within me, as much as it served his needs.
With his broad palm pressing down on me and dexterous fingers dancing on my clit and as worn out
as I felt, his touch was still so stimulating. He worked my clit knowing orgasm was near, “Hold it, hold
it…” he commanded.
I had to dig into what little energy I had left, to focus everything I had on not cumming. His finger
taunted and teased and I teetered on the edge, wanting to jump, to fly yet equally desperate not to fall
or fail. He gave a tug on the chain, yanking my nipples.
“Cum now you slut.”
His words were my cue and sweet relief flooded through me in an orgasm so deep and profound I
saw stars in heaven. I had cum as he had ordered. Now I knew he would release me. But no... I felt
the flick of his tongue against my clit and he dug deep into my core, a thumb circling my clit, my folds.
My pelvis jerked beneath him, straining to feel his tongue within me.
“Hold,’ he cried and I forced myself to go beyond this place, to rise above the exquisite torture as he
orchestrated my arousal. Time stretched as he prolonged the desperate need within me, the burning
agony until, he clicked his fingers, “Now,” and my cum streamed into his mouth. He drank as if
possessed of an unquenchable thirst, again working my sex into a frenzied agony of desire that
peaked once more into a trembling need for release. This time, he just clicked his fingers and I came,
groaning viscerally from deep within me, a dark and primal place that he had unlocked.
I had given my Master ownership of my orgasms a long time ago, I always asked permission to cum
and was not allowed to touch myself without his permission. I liked these rules; they gave me a
deeper connection with my Master and made my orgasms stronger and more profound knowing they
were for him. However, this experience, or was it training? Whatever it was, he had taken his
ownership of my orgasms to a new level.
A strong hand stroke my forehead, drenched in sweat, “I praise you,“ he said as my heart swelled
with love, “You are such a good, little slut,” his praises may have been simple words but they made
me feel so good, they were reassuring and comforting. I was on the edge of exhaustion, my body felt
floppy, my mind strangely euphoric. So this is what I had been craving, what I had begged for. “You
have been so good my little slut, you deserve a reward.” Master’s words were playful then and I
relaxed.
His iron, hard cock entered my soaked pussy with a deep thrust, stretching my cunt quickly, his
hands on my belly, his strokes powerful, fast and deep. Thrusting into me he fucked my aching body
so well that I could barely remember my name, I was no longer mind but pure cunt and sensation,
powerful love filled me as he rammed his cock into me filling me to the tip and beyond. As he came
deep inside me, hot jets spurting from him, I screamed in pleasure as my own cum mingled with his,
we rode a tide of pleasure that was deep and profound, uniting us on a sensory plane of love and
lust.
As he pulled out of me, he murmured in my ear, “You are such a good, little slut, you have pleased
your Master very much today.” My body sagged as a feeling of complete relief filled me, I had done
well. This was enough.
I heard his footsteps recede and I was left alone, my body beyond exhaustion, my mind flying free
like a caged bird suddenly finding its wings. This is what I had craved, his ownership, his praise and it
was if my mind sang from the treetops, “I am free. I am free.” Never before had I cum on command.
Now I knew his ownership of me was complete and I feel at once liberated and at peace. More than
that, something had clicked in my mind and I knew that by deciding when I came, he was giving me a
gift. My not cumming was a form of submission which pleased him, him deciding that I was to cum
was also an act of submission on my part. My orgasms were truly for him I could see that now.
Footsteps echoed his return and I felt him free my bindings, but my body was too tired to respond.
The nipple clamps were removed and the blood flowed freely in them once more. Gently, he removed
the gag from my mouth and I gasped for air. Lastly, he took off the blindfold, my eyes were bleary and
unfocused as my head drifted towards my chin; I no longer had the strength to hold it up.
Strong arms scooped up my lifeless body, he carried me in his arms, murmuring to me all the way
until he placed me gently in a warm bath. “Baby, Girl…” he began as he soaped my skin,
“Master is
gone, Daddy is here to care for you.”
Lil Red..
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Appeteaser...
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Posted:Mar 8, 2017 8:30 am
Last Updated:Oct 26, 2019 4:11 am 12860 Views
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Appeteaser...
Eyes wide, I push open the slits on the sides of my skirt and hook my thumbs in the top of my panties at the hips. I glance around the room quickly, hoping no one is looking, then swiftly lift my hips and slip them off. Wadding them into a tiny ball, I try to pass them to you discretely, under the table, but you shake your head slowly, and say, "No…place them here in my hand, on the table."
You come home from work tonight, loosen your tie and slip off your jacket, saying, “Shower and dress, my pet…I made dinner reservations…”
I squeal with delight at the thought of going out with you, Master, and hurry to comply. In the shower, warm water running over my body, I soap lazily, daydreaming about your hands on me. Evidently, I take a little too long, because I hear you open the bathroom door and say, “You have 3 minutes to finish and get out my dear, or I am canceling the reservations and coming in there with you. You must be a very dirty girl to be taking so long – perhaps you need me to wash you thoroughly?”
“Yes, Master!” I giggle, contemplating you washing me for a moment…the hot water pouring over us as you pin me against the shower wall and fuck me hard…but I snap out of it and rinse quickly. As I stand on the rug, toweling dry, you re-enter the bathroom, carrying the black velvet box. I stand obediently as you slip the jewels on my nipples, tightening them gently. My nipples stiffen under your fingers, becoming hard and exquisitely sensitive. You stand back, nod in satisfaction, then nudge my thighs apart, saying, “Good girl, now for the clit jewel…” I whimper softly and you stop momentarily, looking me in the eye. “What’s wrong, my sweet?”
“Oh, Master,” I say, “I don’t know if I can handle that constant arousal in public!!! I am afraid of how I will behave if I am wearing that…” I bite my lip, embarrassed, and look at the floor.
You chuckle softly, laying the gem back in the box. “Alright, little one, not this time. But you WILL learn, not only to ‘handle’ this constant arousal, but to crave it and you eventually will beg me for it…”
I shiver, considering your words carefully, and whisper, “Thank you, Sir.” You cup me under the chin and kiss me soundly, then slap my bottom sharply. “NOW – get dressed, and be quick about it!” Your expression is stern, but your eyes smile at me as I rush to obey.
I dress, then present myself for your approval. Gold sandals, no stockings, no bra, and a simple dress of violet satin, low backed with a deeply plunging neckline, small gold hoop earrings, and my hair put up. You take the clips out, saying, “No, I prefer it down.” You frown briefly at the length of the skirt, until I gently thrust out one hip, revealing a deep slit in the skirt on each side. You smile in approval. “Nice color, angel, brings out the red in your hair.” Your eyes are drawn to the smooth fabric that covers my full breasts, seeing the faint outline of the jewelry, and my hard nipples making little dimples in the smooth satin. “Very nice, angel…let’s go…” you whisper hoarsely. I giggle to myself as I watch you re-adjust the front of your pants –so you can WALK — and you offer your arm.
We are seated in a rear corner booth, and have a light supper by candlelight. Feeling mellow from the wine, you order my favorite dessert, chocolate mousse. I lick the creamy chocolate seductively from the spoon, teasingly feeding you whipped cream with my fingers, until I realize by the urgency and intensity that you are licking and sucking my hand that I may have pushed you a bit too far, and you will probably order me to service you in the car even before we get home. You slide closer to me in the booth, pressing your body to mine, nibbling on my neck and sliding your hand up my thigh…you pause for a moment and frown slightly. “Panties? I didn’t give you permission to wear panties, my dear.”
I stammer, “But-but Sir, you didn’t tell me NOT to…”
You smile slightly, “True, well, no matter…take them off now.”
I blush a little, and start to rise from the table, “Certainly, Sir, I will just go to the ladies’ room…”
You grasp my shoulder firmly and push me back down to the seat. “No, take them off here.”
My eyes open very wide, and I squeak, “HERE Sir??? But we are in PUBLIC!”
You raise an eyebrow at me. “Yes, I am aware of that. Your panties, please.”
“But, Sir!!! There are PEOPLE in here..” I start to protest – but the look on your face silences me immediately.
“Yes, kelsi, and this disrespectful arguing is certainly going to draw attention to you.” I lower my head, ashamed, but you lift my chin so I have no choice but to meet your gaze. “My dear, you have been a very good girl, and your training is coming along nicely…that is why I decided to surprise you with this little outing.” I start to smile, until you sigh in exasperation. “This hesitation and reluctance to obey my simple request is unbecoming, dear, and displeases me greatly. I have not asked you to do anything difficult, or that is outside of our agreed-upon limits.” You lean a little closer, speaking softly, but I hear every word. “Delayed obedience is Disobedience, pet – and I have begun to count the swats you will receive as soon as we get home. You have earned four so far.”
Your hand drops to the table, palm up, expectantly. I stare at it, slightly shocked, until you whisper, “That’s five, – I suggest you obey me. NOW. Unless you would prefer your spanking here, in public…”
Eyes wide, I push open the slits on the sides of my skirt and hook my thumbs in the top of my panties at the hips. I glance around the room quickly, hoping no one is looking, then swiftly lift my hips and slip them off. Wadding them into a tiny ball, I try to pass them to you discretely, under the table, but you shake your head slowly, and say, “No…place them here in my hand, on the table.”
Blushing hotly, I obey, placing a damp wad of ivory silk in your hand. You grin wickedly, and say, “There now, dear, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” and to my deep embarrassment, you begin to examine them closely in the candlelight. “Very pretty…oh, look how wet they are…I wonder why?” I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to hide under the table when you bring the silk to your lips, nuzzling and kissing it, whispering, “So, sweet, dear, and all MINE.” Just as our waiter returns to refresh our coffee, you slowly and deliberately tuck them in the breast pocket of your jacket. “Hmmm, doesn’t exactly match my tie, but I rather like the effect, don’t you, pet?” Unable to look at the waiter, I manage to whisper, “Yes Sir.”
I am puzzled for a moment as I watch you purposely push your table knife on to the floor. Then you wink playfully and me and say, “Oh, I seem to have dropped my knife – be a love and pick it up, please.” I obey immediately, leaning down, and our poor waiter almost drops the coffee pot as he gets an eyeful down the front of my dress, creamy white breasts with temptingly jeweled rosy nipples. He manages to stammer, “I-I’ll get you another, sir…” as he walks away from our table stiffly, noticeably readjusting his uniform.
“That’s my girl,” you whisper, sliding closer to me again. “Now, let’s see if we can discover why your panties are so wet, shall we?” I feel one of your hands gently tweak my nipple through the satin of my dress, while your other one slides possessively up my inner thigh…
Your fingers begin to explore my tender, wet sex, and you unzip your pants with your other hand. “Stroke me,” you breathe into my ear, and I wrap my hand around your stiff cock and caress you, sliding up and down your shaft. You slide your fingers easily into me, deeply, rubbing that secret tender spot inside me…then pressing hard little circles on my clit…insistent…demanding…
I stroke you a little faster…and a few drops of cum leak from your cock onto my hand. I stop stroking you only for a moment, to lick them from my fingers, then resume pleasuring you. You groan deeply and bite my neck, rubbing and teasing my hot pussy until I can’t think straight…I whisper, pleading, “Please, Master, no…don’t make me cum here…everyone will stare, and know…PLEASE…”
You nuzzle my neck and murmur soothingly, “Don’t worry, pet…I will quiet you…”
I pant softly, moving my hips under your fingers, still stroking your cock…and as you feel my clit begin to throb gently under your fingertips, and I start to moan in spite of myself…you cover my mouth with yours, kissing me deeply, hushing my helpless cries of pleasure…
I feel your fingers tangle and tighten in the hair at the nape of my neck, and you pull my head down to your lap, groaning softly, “Drink me, slave…” I close soft pink lips around the head of your shaft, just as it explodes like a liquid rocket in my mouth, pumping jets of hot cream down my throat. You moan softly, stroking my hair, and I hold your cock in my mouth, milking every last drop of cum greedily, while your climax subsides.
Moments, later, I feel you tap my shoulder, and you say, my dear, you can come up now – I didn’t drop my napkin after all, it is right here on the table.” I sit up quickly, my face flushed and my hair a mess, to see our waiter shakily pouring coffee. You grin at my obvious distress, and as the poor man walks away, you slowly bring your index finger to the corner of your mouth, making a slight wiping motion. I mirror your actions, and am embarrassed to find a tiny pearl of cum on my fingertips. I groan, knowing the waiter must have seen it.
You chuckle at my blush, zipping your pants, and toss some cash down next to the check. You stand up and offer me your hand, then pull me into your arms. “That was delightful, my dear, and more like the sweet, obedient sub I know and love,” you whisper into my ear.
“However,” you continue, sliding your hands down my back to cup my bottom, “don’t think for a moment that your sweet ass is going to escape the punishment you deserve.”
I swallow hard and look at you nervously with wide eyes. You just laugh softly and lead me out to the car.
All the way home, you will not speak to me, or look at me, no matter how I try to make eye contact. Just when I begin to REALLY worry, you squeeze my knee reassuringly and wink at me, grinning.
We arrive home, and without a word, you beckon me to follow you into the den. I obey nervously…knowing you intend to correct me. I swallow hard, thinking of your paddle and your crop…truly terrified of the marks they could make on my tender flesh.
I love your private study, Sir…I come here often when you are away, and read for hours in the window seat. But I especially love it at night, with the fireplace blazing, all other lights in the room off, when you summon me here to serve you.
“Remove your sandals,” you murmur, slipping off your jacket. I obey, feeling my bare toes sink deep into the Oriental carpet. You roll up the sleeves of your shirt, slowly, deliberately, never taking your eyes off me. I find myself shivering, despite the roaring fire. You brush back a strand of hair from my cheek, a lover’s caress…then quickly gather my hair in your fist and pull my head back roughly, to meet your gaze. I search your eyes for mercy, finding none, but I love and trust you Master. You will do what is best, and what I need.
Leading me by my hair, you growl, “Over the chair, girl.”
THE chair, is YOUR chair…a huge leather-upholstered armchair, large enough for you to cradle me comfortably in your lap while we talk and play…or for you to pull me astride you if the mood strikes. It is also the perfect height for you to bend me over the back of it to take me from behind, or to discipline me. I groan softly, knowing that is the purpose it serves tonight, and I obey, leaning over the back, feeling the soft leather against my bare arms and my cheek. I inhale deeply, the scent almost intoxicating me.
You lift the violet satin dress up over my hips, exposing my bare bottom to your gaze. I tremble with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and desire. Out of the corner of my eye, I see you unbuckle your belt and with deft, sure movements, pull it free from the loops. I whimper softly and grip the arms of the chair tightly, knowing what will come next.
I feel your hand caress my bare bottom as you say, “This will be swift…I won’t waste time making you count…” Your voice drops to a whisper, “I have other plans for your sweet ass, angel…”
Standing back and regarding your bare ass, I smile evilly watching the reflected glow of the firelight flickering across your smooth skin.
I drop my belt to the floor and cup your exposed, vulnerable bottom for a moment. “I think, angel, that I shall postpone your punishment until after I’ve had my pleasure from you.”
With that I quickly bring the flat of my hand slapping down twice on each bare cheek, leaving four perfect palm prints spreading out from the crack of your ass and making it look like a bright red butterfly has landed on your behind.
“Place your hands behind your back, wrists crossed, little one,” I say and, as you comply, quickly tie your wrists together with a length of silk rope.
With one booted foot, I tap the inside of your ankles and watch as you quickly spread them. Muttering “If you want something doing properly do it your bloody self,” I kneel behind you and roughly push your ankles further apart, fitting them to the leather cuffs of a 3-foot steel leg spreader. Leaning forward, I flatten my tongue and run it quickly and firmly from your hardened clit, up between your swollen pussy lips and over both tight holes continuing until it reaches the base of your spine.
Standing behind you I roughly push your ass cheeks as far apart as possible and rest the tip of my rigid cock against your tight puckered asshole. With one firm steady forward motion. I push the entire length of my cock into your hot dry tunnel, sighing deeply as my heavy balls contact your glistening pussy lips.
One hand reaches underneath you and begins to pinch and pull at the hard-little button of your clit as the other grabs a fistful of your copper curls and pulls your head back until you are staring at the opposite wall with tears in your eyes.
“Would you like me to fill your ass with cum my pet?”
“Oh yes please Master.”
Starting slowly I begin to fuck your sweet tight ass, building the pace and force of my thrusts steadily until I am humping back and forth against your glowing cheeks with all my might. You let out the occasional yelp as you are pressed into the leather of the armchair, your hands trapped behind your back and your neck arched.
With one final thrust, I let out a moan of sheer animal lust and pleasure as my cock explodes deep inside your ass, pumping hot thick cum into you in waves. Removing the cork from the evening’s wine bottle from my pocket, I quickly withdraw my cock and jam the cork into your asshole, effectively bottling my cum in your ass.
Pulling you upright by your hair, I untie your wrists then retie them in front of you before saying, “Now my angel, go to the bar and fetch me a brandy and a bucket of ice and don’t you dare let that cork fall out or I shall be very displeased.”
“Would you release my ankles please, Master?” you ask timidly.
“No, you can manage as you are and you will have to cradle the ice bucket to your chest, I don’t have time for you to make two trips.”
Lowering your head you whisper, “Yes, Master,” and begin to hobble towards the bar at the other side of the room, desperately clenching your buttocks to keep the cork in place. Reaching the bar, you quickly fill the ice bucket and pour brandy into a crystal balloon. Holding the ice bucket against your breasts with your elbows and the glass of brandy between your hands, you turn and hobble back to me, the bottom half of your dress sliding down one thigh.
I take the glass and bucket, placing them on the table beside me and tell you to resume your position, fastening your wrists once more behind your back.
“Hmmmmmm,” I muse, “perhaps I should have stripped you before I trussed you. Still no matter.” Taking the two sides of the dress in my hands I pull them apart roughly, neatly splitting the dress along the seam, leaving it in tatters about your neck. “Now I’ll have to buy you a new one. Oh well.”
Warming the brandy between my hands I stare at your bare ass and thighs and ask you, “How many strokes do you think you deserve for tonight’s misdemeanors, slave?”
“Umm………..would five be sufficient, Master?” you whisper.
“Yes, five it shall be. However, you will receive five strokes each from my hand, my paddle and my crop.”
“Yes Master, thank You,” you gulp, secretly delighted that I will be giving you a little extra punishment.
Stepping a little closer I quickly administer five bare handed slaps, two to each cheek and the final one landing so that my fingers lay across the end of the cork and your glistening pussy.
Noticing that you didn’t even flinch, I take up the wide wooden paddle and decide to be a little firmer with the next five. The smooth wood slaps down across your ass cheeks with a regular rhythm, replacing the palm prints with an even red glow. After five firm thwacks I am pleased to hear a soft whimper escaping your lips as your ass cheeks tingle hotly.
Dropping the paddle to the floor, I scoop a handful of ice from the bucket and press it against your ass, smiling in wicked delight as you gasp aloud, the freezing cold ice quickly replacing the warmth from the paddle with a burning sensation of its own.
“Now little one, do you think you deserve the crop?”
“Oh yes, Master — I have been a bad girl and deserve to be punished. I wore panties without permission and I dared to answer You back.”
“I think you see this as a treat, my angel, rather than a punishment.”
“Oh no, Master, the crop scares me, I would much rather You released me now. Please don’t beat me with Your crop, Master,” you breathe, trying to disguise the lie as best you can.
“Hmmm, very well, you shall receive the crop, although I still think you are enjoying this.”
Taking up the crop, I land a hard swipe horizontally across your buttocks, the shaft leaving a bright red welt across the full width of them. Changing the angle of my wrist slightly I bring the shaft of the crop back down across your left buttock diagonally then again at the opposite angle. Standing back, I admire the “A” shape that the wicked red welts have created and repeat the last two strokes on your right cheek, marking you for a second time with my initial.
Slowly and gently I run the tip of the crop down the crack of your ass, over the cork and round to your clit. A quick flick of my wrist and the wide tip bites into the soft pink flesh of your pussy, causing you to cry out in true pain for the first time this evening.
“You may now push the cork out little one,” I tell you as I kneel behind you to get a good view of your stinging pussy.
Releasing the grip of your buttocks, you push with your internal muscles and the cork falls to the floor. My cum begins to ooze from your ass and trickle down over your burning pussy, soothing the tingling flesh.
I quickly release you from your bonds then sit down in my favorite chair, telling you to go and clean yourself up and wait for me in the bedroom.
“Would you not like to use my body again before You go to bed, Master?” you ask with a hopeful glint in your eye.
“Now, be gone, slave”.
As you hang your head and slouch out of the room, I bite back the desire to call you back. I love you dearly and would like nothing better than to make love to you for the rest of the night but, after all, you are a slave and must be punished when you do wrong and I know that declining the use of your body is the only real punishment I can give you. Smiling ruefully to myself, I pick up the brandy glass and stare at the dying fire thinking that there’s always tomorrow.
BDSM Cafe...
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Hitachi Vs, All The Rest....
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Posted:Mar 6, 2017 11:57 am
Last Updated:Feb 25, 2022 5:50 am 13723 Views
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Hitachi Vs, All The Rest...
While online today searching for a new "toy" , I was pondering the question.... Hitachi Magic Wand Vs Every Other vibrator out there. I would love the hear feedback from Dominants and submissives. I adore the Hitachi and its first rate in my book. Nothing makes me beg like that wand does...
I would love to hear from You !
M.
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Lunch Break...
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Posted:Mar 6, 2017 10:54 am
Last Updated:Jan 19, 2022 2:38 am 12820 Views
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Lunch Break...
What a wonderful afternoon I had with Sir the other day. I came home for my lunch break and there he was. It had been so long since we had been together, too long. He wrapped his arms around me and instantly I melted. Gulping my sandwich down as we climbed the stairs, I could not wait to have a few minutes alone with him.
We got to my room and he sat on my bed with his back to the headboard, asking me if I minded his shoes on the bed. I did not care. There was only one thing I needed at that moment. I climbed onto the bed, crawled up between his legs, and curled up with my head in his lap. His gentle strokes glided across my head and down my back and I did not want to ever move again.
Then it started. A tug on my hair, a caress traveling over my shoulder, across my collar bone, down to my breast, a pinch on my nipple...I understood his unspoken desire. I asked him for permission to remove my top so that he could have easier access. Permission was granted and I shed my blouse, bra, and camisole. I sat back on the bed with my back against his chest as his hands traveled from my shoulders, down to my breasts, and back, stroking, teasing, and pinching as they went. He reached up and grabbed a fistful of my hair. Whispering in my ear, I heard the distinct change in his tone from his gentle breath-speak to his harsh growly Sir voice, "What do you want."
The moment he grabbed my hair, before he even asked, there was one thing I wanted, needed. I wanted him to put me over his knee. So I answered his question. His reply made my heart leap, "Good girl." He already knew what I craved and he was pleased with me for asking. He moved to the center of the bed and directed me with his eyes and a gesture of his hands ... kneel here ... across here.
I still had my slacks on as the first strike landed. I felt my breath quicken and my cunt moisten with each strike. "Sir?"
"Yes?"
"May I take off my pants?" I heard an objecting growl begin to rise up his throat. "I have to wear these back to work." The growl morphed into a deep chuckle as he granted permission. With pants shed and now completely bare, I laid again across his lap. His hand landed hard on my right cheek and I knew he would be making up for lost time in the next few precious minutes we had together. He struck hard, focusing strike after strike on one side, beating my ass until he was satisfied with the crimson skin glowing back at him. He stopped slapping and drew his fingernails across my tender flesh, causing me to gasp. In response, he struck the left cheek. Again and again his hand fell to my ass as his other hand stroked my back, a contrast of softness and pain that intensified the sensation from his strikes. As before, he stopped to enjoy the redness he had brought out in my flesh and again drew his nails across my tender skin.
Reaching up to my head and grabbing a fistful of my hair, he pulled my head back and over to reveal my face. He reveled in my responses as he switched between caressing and clawing my sore behind. "Thank you, Sir," I breathed out as his grip on my hair tightened.
"Are you done?"
"Do you want me to be done, Sir?"
"Hmmm." A malicious chuckle rose up from deep within him. "Kneel there. Now," he instructed, pointing to the foot of the bed. I obeyed and he stood up beside the bed. "Here," with a stern voice and a pointed hand at the spot in the bed in front of him. I moved gingerly where he directed, as my ass was blazing, and knelt before him. "So, you want to be told what to do?" I did not answer, lowering my eyes from his burning gaze. Burying his hand deep in my hair to my scalp, he grasped a handful of my hair at the root. Pulling my head back, his dark eyes pierced deep as he growled at me. "I asked you a question."
"Y- yes, sir."
"On all fours," he snapped as he released his grip. As I obeyed, facing his crotch, I watched as he unfastened his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and dropped them below his crotch. "Suck my cock," he ordered and I was more than happy to oblige. Wrapping my lips around his head, I sucked it as I licked the tip within my mouth. I knew he was pleased by his reaction so I continued to focus my attention on the head of his dick, sucking and licking only the head and just a small bit of his shaft beyond. I felt him push his hips forward seeking to push his cock deeper in my mouth so I pulled back, denying him a deeper penetration. This did not please him. Quickly, he gathered up my hair into a ponytail, wrapped it around his hand, and tightened his grip, pulling my hair tight. My jaw dropped as I gasped in pain. In that split second, his cock was rammed into the back of my throat. I wrapped my lips around his shaft again but any control I had was gone. He fucked my face, ramming his cock deep into my throat, invoking my gag reflex that squeezed and convulsed around the head of his dick.
Then his appetite changed. He pulled my head back off of his cock and stared down at me with a dark gleam in his eyes. "Turn around," he demanded and I did not hesitate to obey. I turned around so that my ass and wet cunt were only inches from his crotch, on all fours, waiting for him to take what was his in any way that he desired. Clutching my hips with a vice-like grip, he pressed his cock into my moist pussy. Satisfied that he was in me, he tightened his grip and rammed himself deeper within. With each thrust he grunted harder and deeper. He had me so wet, so close, and I moved my hips, twisting them about, grinding against him as he rammed his cock within. WHACK. Hard. On both cheeks. And that vice-like grip returned to my hips as he barked, "DON'T move! I'm fucking YOU!" I froze, fighting the urge to thrust myself against him, to grind my ass against his crotch, to writhe and twist and work with him to orgasm. I gave in and began to rock my ass back and forth against him WHACK WHACK. Again both sides as he growled, "This is not about what YOU want! DON'T move again!" And I didn't. I held myself firmly in place, fighting off the urge to move, as he continued to fuck me, tightening his grip as he pounded my pussy. And I came! Hard! He slowed his penetration as I gave into the release, dropping my upper body flat onto the bed while my ass still hung in the air over my knees. As I lay there fighting to catch my breath, I felt his grip tighten again on my hips and his cock begin to slide in and out, slowly at first and then picking up speed. He fucked me again as I was still trying to gather myself from my orgasm. I tried to pull away but his grip tightened and the gentle slide of his cock quickly became a hard ramming. And I came again, this time stronger and wetter than the first.
His grasp on my body released as he pulled out, leaving me free to collapse on the bed. Once I had dropped down flat, he reached down and gently rolled me over to my back. Without a word he began to position me, my legs spread to the sides, bent at the knee, feet on the side of the bed, my ass at the edge of the bed, and I hoped that I was correct on what was to come next. I gazed into his eyes and the gentle adoration shining back at me told me I was correct. He smiled a gentle, almost goofy smile as he lightly grasped the tops of my thighs and pressed his cock into my pussy. He rocked gently and I knew that he was rewarding me. One of my favorite rewards is gazing into His eyes when they have calmed to a gentle smolder as he makes love to me. Such a warmth envelopes me and I can feel his emotions coursing into me like a light electric current zipping from our touch points, into my heart, and shooting back out through my feet, my hands, my head. This was fucking by no means, but a gentle love making that brought me to a physical release three more times, and one hell of an emotional release as well.
"It's 10 till, pet." And quickly I threw myself together, thanked my Sir, my lover, and ran out the door for work. If that was the fun we had in 40 minutes, I couldn't wait to see what he had in store that night.
And a happy pet walked into work with a temple to temple grin and a fun little lunch break to think back on.
Litrotica..
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The Table...
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Posted:Mar 6, 2017 3:25 am
Last Updated:Dec 6, 2022 2:49 am 14706 Views
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The Table ...
She was down on her back on my solid wooden table.
Her hands tied in front of her, above her belly button. Her upper body held captive in a web of thin elastic rope.
Her breasts, I think, still glowing from the whipping before she was placed on the table. Her eyes were covered with a blindfold held in place by a soft rope. Another rope was twisted around her head to keep her mouth open. In her ears, headphones with loud classical music. Around her neck a rope with felt tight whenever she moved, but it only felt tight. She must have felt totally out of control.
Her body was nicely tied to the table to make her immobile. With her feet tied close to her head, every part of her was easily accessible. In her ass I had a plug and was held by the elastic rope from her back, through her labia to her belly button. Vulnerable and exposed she lay waiting for what was to come.
The beautiful feature of elastic rope is that you can pull it up a bit and let go. For her, in some areas a nice sensation, in other areas very very intense. The rope between her legs had so many spots, and every tease gave a different reaction. Some muffled sound was the least of it.
With some sense for drama I walk very slowly around her... she can't see me or hear me. Perhaps she felt me because there was some wind on her bare skin of my passing by. I see her breathing increase, as well as her heartbeat. She has no idea about what was going to happen, and who knows where her mind brought her.
I felt a naughty grin on my face, thinking about the next step. I blew air at the soles of her feet, which tickled her. An audible sigh from her... this was only the start.
I got a wooden spatula from the kitchen and walked back slowly. Still she was breathing fast... anxiety is half the work. I listened to her headphones what was on, and it was a quiet piece at that moment. I stroked her hair gently and she shivered. It was time to step it up a bit and I took a wooden clothes pin and put it on her right nipple. She held her breath and waited for the other one. For her inconvenience I took a bit more time then was needed. Just when she took another breath, I placed the other pin on her nipple. Her breathing became heavier, she was expecting a lot more...
Slap. The sound resonated when the wooden spatula hit her sole. "Hmmpff" from her mouth. Slap, one more, now on the other foot. Slap, one on her tummy. Slap, another one on the lower side of her breast. Slowly all the sensitive spots were hit. Her pussy as a last one, as I know how fond she is of that one. No slap was very firm, but enough to get a reaction.
I decide that the small rubber whip is the next one, and rub it slowly over her body, and then suddenly hit the bottom of her upper leg. Immediately she holds her breath. The thin skin at that spot is very sensitive. Even more so, she doesn't hear the sound of the hit, but only feel the impact and aftermath. I continue to rub the rubber over her body. She is getting slowly turned on more and more. Time for the other leg. Again she holds her breath.
Slowly I build the tension and her submission. With my finger I feel between her pussy lips how wet she already is... this is also a big turn on for me. I slowly take off my shirt and my underwear. She is awaiting the next blow, but i pull the elastic ropes around her pussy. Her breathing stops once more, and she expects my to let it go directly on her pussy. Instead i lead it around her labia. With my finger I enter her pussy and she begins to breathe faster again. My dick is hard now and I position the tip at the entrance of her pussy. I push forward slowly but firm. Long strokes but deep, it makes her more and more horny.
As I am fucking her in the vulnerable position she is in, while she still can't hear or see anything, I see her cheeks becoming more red, and she swaybacks. The clothing pins must be a true nuisance now, and I decide to remove one of them. Immediately there was a reaction, and I felt her pussy tighten up. So the other clothes pin goes as well.. Ahhhh, what a tight pussy. I thrust with more force and grab her breasts. The edge of the butt plug is massages my dick inside her pussy, this feel so good.
I pull back to remove the plug and get the lubricant to make my dick more slippery next to her own juices, With my cock I edge against her anus and when i give a little push I see her hands making a fist... She makes another sound but I decide to continue pushing. Slowly I moved up and down until I reach deep and start to fuck her ass with force. I grab her breasts again, and a rope... I own her.
This is hot, tight, hot and naughty... i feel reaching my orgasm and need to decide how. On her face, mouth, on her tits, or where? I remove one of her ear plugs and say to her, while breathing quite heavily... I will be cumming in your ass... No audible reaction whatsoever that is understandable (might be the ropes around her mouth), and I let the tension build up and move wildly... I feel her body getting ready for climax too.
Faster, more powerful, and deeper, and she reacts by heavily breathing. I keep on fucking her hard and i wet my thumb to rub her clit in the same rhythm. I feel my orgasm arriving fast and the ejaculation on its way in my dick, this is good... I come and empty it inside her during while keeping on thrusting. She seems completely somewhere else too. Covered in sweat and catching my breath i lay now on top of her and remove the other ear piece. I kiss her softly, but we don't speak yet. I loosen the ropes from her mouth and kiss her again.
Welcome back, sweety.
LITROTICA.
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Dominant/submissive...
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Posted:Mar 5, 2017 4:01 pm
Last Updated:Feb 25, 2022 5:52 am 13898 Views
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Dominant/submissive...
It has been said many times and in many ways by many men who aspire to dominance that the reason for a relationship’s failure was because the submissive refused to be led. That she was not a “good enough submissive.”
I’ve spent over a decade in the lifestyle now, and at this point I’ve learned enough that the phrase upsets my equilibrium. My frustration the product of an understanding of how deleterious the words can be, and how manipulative the act of uttering them is. That frustration or even perhaps that anger which arises in my soul is driven by an innate desire to protect. I know too well the pain that words can create has the potential to be paralyzing. They’re words that invalidate her effort, that belittle her fears, that arouse her anxiety.
And unconsciously or not, is that not the intent? When we’re disappointed in our , do we not question why ever they would do such a thing? Do we not question their actions hoping to instill in them a sense of shame?
“How could they?”
The fundamental flaw in laying the blame at those we seek to lead is that tools such as shame and embarrassment do not lead us any closer to our objectives. When we shame those we ought to be inspiring by the quality of our words and actions, we lead them down a path of self-doubt. A submissive flower does not bloom in the darkness of failure, it’s petals spread for those that gently coax and nurture it’s growth, those that guide it to life. It sheds it’s shell and opens only for those that envelope them in the warmth and light of love and forgiveness.
There was a moment some years ago, back when I was a much younger and more foolish man than even I am now, when a moment of rare clarity struck me that these words were illogical. Laughably so. You see the inherent contradiction that exists here is that there can be no such thing as a “bad submissive.”
When we think of what any person is, we come to understand that they are the product of their circumstances. Their education, their upbringing, their experiences. I am thirty one years of experience, of education. Equal measures of blessings, curses, education, successes, and failures. A unique blend of genetics and synaptic conditioning that make has arranged my synaptic bridges to interact with my neurons in ways that make me, me.
Those synaptic responses are the results of the programming of our lives. The brilliant thing about the human mind of course is that we can be rewired, our human computer reprogrammed. We can be taught to react to stimuli in different ways. We learn, we grow, we evolve, and our specific species of animal does this better than any other. Almost any part of us can be altered. We can overcome our mental and emotional limitations, we can rise, strive, and conquer; ourselves, our worlds.
So when a dominant tells a submissive that she isn’t, “a good enough submissive,” my mind quavers at the concept. How ever could such a thing as a “bad submissive” exist? Is the submissive not the product of her dominant’s teachings? Is she not the woman that his hands, those that love and those that correct, have melded? Does an artist look down at his tapestry and belittle it for having laid the brushstrokes inadequately?
Is that not what I am, an artist that paints with love instead of oil? Has she not given herself to me, laid herself bare before me for my guidance and entrusted me with her growth? And in accepting this gift of life have I not also accepted responsibility for it’s cultivation? Does the farmer blame the crop that he sows?
No, there is no such thing as a bad canvas, nor a bad seed. There are however poor artists and poor farmers; those that lay their strokes without care, or growers who fail to water their plant. So why would we deign to blame the submissive when she is merely a product of his tutelage, his guidance, his love, his discipline?
When a dominant man says that she has been a “bad submissive,” is he not, in full disclosure, saying that he is a bad dominant? Has he not accepted full responsibility for the quality of his charge, and is he not admitting to negligence or ineffectiveness? In doing so is he not forsaking his duty, his ethics, his ethos?
Surely submissives will err, such is the nature of humanity. But when I wake, to whom will I bestow the obligation of accountability? To the one I’ve aspired to lead? It is a matter of fundamental import wherein I must make a full accounting of my desires. Do I wish to be the man who demurs and deflects? Or do I aspire to be the man to whom she can entrust her bared soul?
Could there ever be such a thing as a “bad submissive?” Are there not only ineffective dominants?
onceuponsirsstarrynight.
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3,2,1,CUM!
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Posted:Mar 5, 2017 4:35 am
Last Updated:Feb 19, 2023 3:32 am 13366 Views
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3,2,1,CUM!
She teased him as she ate her dessert. Deliberately looking him in the eyes with each mouthful. He had watched on in amusement.
As she finished, he quickly requested the bill, he didn’t want to wait around much more. He needed her.
He paid, they put on their coats and headed out into the rain.
A taxi was hailed and within seconds they were in the back heading home.
For a change, the driver didn’t want to make small talk, fine with him, he wasn’t in the small talk mood. As he looked ahead out of the window, he placed his hand on her thigh, just above the knee… nothing unusual except the squeeze of his fingers into her skin.
He held just long enough to get her attention, he then let go softly. Slowly. His fingertips gently brushed the inside of her thigh, just below her skirt.
She blushed slightly, knowing they were not alone and turned her head to look out of the window.
He continued… his fingertips moving only millimeters up her leg. Just gently brushing. Back and forth. Back. And forth.
She clenched. The heaviness of her plug becoming noticeable again. It’s movement sending a shiver of pleasure up her spine.
His fingers moved up further, now under her skirt. Her eyes remained looking out of the window… she was beginning to lose her composure.
He sat there in silence. A small smirk creeping across his face.
Closer.
His hand stopped moving, his thumb was now just stroking her thigh.
Not fast. Not slow. Just… perfect. She was becoming needy.
The warmth and arousal grew steadily between her legs. She needed to get home.
At last the driver hooked the left and turned into their street. His hand withdrew to her anger and delight.
He got out of the taxi, walked around and opened the door on her side, taking her hand and aiding her exit. Their eyes met and both smiled, “Thank you”, she said.
They walked hand in hand across the street to their door.
He opened the door and allowed her to walk in first.
It was cool and dark… She started to walk towards the light switch but was stopped in her tracks by a sudden gripped hand in her hair, “Ow”.
He pulled her back against him. He was silent except the low growl in her ear.
Her eyes rolled and bit her lip… That sound killed her everytime.
“Do not move” He said.
She didn’t reply, just complied.
He reached into his pocket and took out the silk blindfold. He placed it over her eyes and adjusted the elastic straps.
He loved running his fingers through her soft dark hair, playing with it was a calm for him.
Brushing her hair to the side, he lent in and kissed her neck. Soft and gentle. Her knees weakened.
The palm of his right hand pressed into her lower back, gently tracing it up her spine until his fingers found the zip.
A gentle wiggle and a soft tug loosened the zip. He pulled on it, all the way down her spine.
His hand reached up and under the material of the dress at her shoulders and gently pushed it off.
Her dress fell to the floor around her feet.
He placed his hand on the nape of her neck and whispered, “Walk”
She did, guided by his hand… their familiar house didn’t feel familiar now.
“Stop”, he said.
He opened the door, he took her by the neck again and guided her though the doorway.
“Stop.”, he commanded quietly again.
He let go of her neck and she heard his soft footsteps head away from her.
She stood there in silence, not knowing what to expect next.
The silence was deafening, she even wondered if he had left her there alone.
But across the room, he was lent back on the edge of the table, gazing at her.
He smiled, watched her. He adored her. She was a beautiful woman.
“Kneel”
A short, simple instruction. She dropped to her knees.
“Yes, Sir”
He stood and turned to face the table. On there was the riding crop, the flogger and a paddle.
He took the crop and walked towards her.
He continued to admire her, he couldn’t help it.
She felt him get closer. Without her sight, she relied on all of her other senses. She felt him near.
He raised the crop, the soft leather tip on the end gently rested on her skin.
She felt it, on her left breast, barely touching her but just enough to get a tingle. He gently stroked it down over her skin.
Over her nipple which hardened instantly.
He'd done the same on her right breast.
Slow.
Steady.
He then brushed the tip across, nipple to nipple. Back and forth.
Then it went away. A little confused.
Whack. A firm strike on the side of her breast, causing her to flinch with a small yelp.
As she composed herself from the sudden startle, the soft leather brushed across her nipple again. And again it disappeared.
Whack. Another strike, this time to the other breast. Another yelp.
He moved the tip of the crop to her cleavage and guided in down over her tummy, down and between her legs.
He gave a firm tap just above her clit, she groaned in pleasure.
Another and another. Tap. Tap. Tap. Then moving the crop down between the folds of her pussy, guiding it back and forth, she wanted to move her hips in time with it.
She was soaked.
He took the crop away, “Lean down. Feet apart, forehead to the floor, arms out in front of you”
She followed his instructions. Her arse raised up in the air.
He walked around her, picking up the ankle spreader bar. Kneeling behind her, he clamped each ankle. His hand caressed her skin. Goosebumps. He ran his hand between her legs. He throbbed at how wet she was… it got him every time. He leant forward and tasted her, he let out a growl, fuck she tasted so good too. He craved her taste.
He stood.
Admired her form again.
“Give me your wrists” he said as he took off his tie.
She placed them behind her back and he bound them together with the silk tie.
He kissed and sucked her fingers. His hand caressing the cheek of her arse.
He kneeled again. Whack. His hand met her skin.
Instant warmth
She let out a loud moan.
His hand caressed her skin, spreading the warmth of the impact.
His hand moved to the other cheek, a caress.
Whack. His hand firmly meeting her skin again. Caressing and spreading the warmth as she moaned.
He placed his left hand near her wrists and gripped his tie. His right hand still caressing her skin.
Whack. Whack. Whack. Whack. More moans as his hand kept impacting her skin. He caressed again and spread out the warmth on both cheeks.
Her skin was becoming a beautiful shade of red and very warm. He liked seeing his hand marks on her skin. Pretty, he thought.
He stood and walked back to the table, picking up the flogger.
Standing over her, his legs at her sides, he let the lengths of leather stroke over her skin.
He liked the flogger. Especially from this angle and the effect it had on her as it brushed over her warm skin.
He raised it, and brought it down firmly on her. The lengths of leather meeting her arse, the back of her thighs and sweetly between her legs. Her groans got deeper. She loved this pain over her pussy. She clenched as much as she could with the little movement she could do.
Whack
Again across her arse and thighs.
She groaned even deeper. Soaked was now an understatement.
Her wetness was now running down her thighs.
He placed the flogger on the floor and knelt over her. He kissed the small of her back, her skin warm and tender. His hands caressed, she welcomed them as he spread the warmth.
His hand slid between her legs. The tips of his fingers pressed against her clit, his palm pressing against her plug. She growled…. How delicious that felt.
He moved his hand slowly. The sensations running through every inch of her body. She knew she couldn’t last much longer.
Whack, caress
Whack, caress
Whack, caress….
His hand spanking her firmly
Her breathing quickened in seconds
His hand still toying with her clit and plug at the same time.
Pleasure ran through her body.
She was dripping down her legs
“Please…” She mustered
“Please, what?” He said
Whack
Groan…
“Please, Sir…”
“Please, I need to cum”
“You need to cum?”
“Yes, Sir…”
“Not yet”, Whack.
Growl…
“I can’t….”
Whack
He caressed her skin.
“I am going to count down from 10”
“Please…..” she mumbled
“10”, Whack.
“9”, Caress.
“8” Whack.
He continued alternating between spanks and caresses as he counted down,
She was desperate. Needy. Wanting.
“3” Whack
“2” Caress
“1” Whack
He pressed his fingers deep into her, her moans deep and loud
“Zero". Whack. “Cum, cum for me”
Before he even finished speaking, her whole body buckled, She was loud, her orgasm ripped through her, Shaking, Breathless,
“Ffffucckkkkk”
Growls.
“Fuckkkkkk”
His hands gripped her waist and held her still.
A breathless calm slowly came over her, too sensitive to talk or move. Her body covered in beads of sweat.
He released her ankles and let her legs rest on the floor.
He loosened the tie and freed her wrists and lifted the blindfold from her eyes.
Her eyes remained closed, the light hurt a little.
He sat next to her, she lifted her head onto his lap and he began stroking her damp hair.
Reaching over he pulled the blanket, and wrapped it over her.
She nestled, and got comfy.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“You are wonderful… And you are my good girl”
He smile, closed his eyes, and found his calm playing with her hair.
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This Is How You Love Her..
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Posted:Mar 4, 2017 5:01 am
Last Updated:Nov 5, 2021 10:03 pm 11068 Views
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This is how you love her..
Crash into her.
Crash into her at the speed of light.
Feed her your fire until you’re nothing more than cinder and she has flames pouring through her ribcage.
She will need it. God, how she’ll need it.
You forget that she’s broken, sometimes. Other times it’s clearer. You worry about how she kisses you until she chokes, about how she shoves you against the wall and pulls you against herself, bites you until your lips bleed and then doesn’t speak for three days (you’re not him you’re not him you’re not him but you swear you can love her still)
When she digs her fingernails into your arms and drags the pain from her throat scream by scream, let her.
There are worse kinds of scars.
These days she disappears often. Slips away when she thinks you won’t notice. Some days you wake up at 2am and the lights are on downstairs and you hear her crying from your bed. Go to her. Pour two bowls of cereal and sit on the floor with her until she’s eaten seconds and thirds and the crying stops and she’s wiping mascara from her eyes with a paper towel. You don’t have to say anything.
What breaks you down is not the trembling of her fingertips. It’s that she won’t let you hold her hands.
If she comes home one day with a tattoo on her shoulder and her brown hair dyed black and says she wants to be in a band, hug her. Then buy her a guitar. She’s a phoenix, she’s an arsonist. She’ll burn herself down over and over and rebuild, start again. Marry her ashes, marry her yesterdays and todays and tomorrows.
She will always be the same, but she won’t, but she will.
Remember that people are allowed to change.
She yells at you on your first weekend and says you don’t know her, slams the door to her room and doesn’t come out for the rest of the day.
She’s in tears on the bathroom floor and she turns the shower on so you can’t hear her.
She comes out the next morning and pretends not to care.
Kiss her then.
Hold her by the back of her neck and by the wrist and kiss her.
It won’t make the hurting stop but she’ll love you for it.
Some nights she crawls in bed with you. She lets you curl an arm around her and tug her closer until the hair on the back of her head tickles your collarbone. Sometimes she clings to the front of your shirt and breaths into the hollow at your throat and you can’t keep yourself from shivering. She’s always gone in the morning.
You think how it aches so much to not be able to love her entirely, but be patient. She is the survivor of a long, cold winter. She is barreling through the dark. But she is looking. She will find you.
You take her to a thousand different places.
You tell her that yes, this is enough. You and her and a two-story flat. But sometimes when she’s asleep you throw open every atlas you own, roll out the maps you’ve followed for a thousand years. Your heart breaks at how much dust has settled on them. Sometimes you miss the world until the pain takes you, miss the running until you sweep every book off your desk and cover your face with your hands.
When you finally cry because you can’t help it, she finds you. She maneuvers carefully across your charted floor and holds your head in her lap and tells you that there are thunderstorms in her chest too. And you’re both relieved, because for the first time, she gives you her raw secrets and maybe it’s because she finally understands that she isn’t broken alone. You will unwind her now, slowly.
She’ll run with you, she says.
It won’t be the same, but it will be good(you’re not the same, but you can
love her still)
You say it will be brilliant.
Find a dictionary. Memorize the definition of the word love in a thousand different languages.
When all the definitions seem nowhere near enough, tell her you love her.
Now forget them.
Love is better than all of those things.
Feed her your fire.
You’re not him you’re not him you’ll never be him
but you can love her still.
And she will need you. God, how she’ll need you.
wordsbyjim
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A Submissive Woman...
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Posted:Mar 3, 2017 2:13 pm
Last Updated:Dec 6, 2022 2:48 am 12372 Views
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A Submissive Woman..
Within the woman, there is tremendous capacity and drive to love, nurture, and empathize. She is the source from which human life is reborn, her body the gateway through which we all enter the world. It is the female who adapts her body to accommodate her reproductive destiny. For nine months she carries a developing human being in her growing belly, endures the agony of labor and childbirth, and faithfully cares for her newborn afterward, suckling it with her milk. Throughout the life cycle of her , she remains in service to its every need, selflessly extending her mind, body, and spirit for its well-being. Each of us came into this world through a woman, and most of us did so through her love, sacrifice, and devotion.
For the female, great sacrifice or devotion for love are not alien notions to her heart. Even women who have little regard for motherhood often still have within then some spark of a nurturing dimension—the intuitiveness of feminine empathy, a natural softness and an often innate desire to please. It is no mystery a woman will often use these innate qualities to please her mate, too. When her heart is captured, she will do anything to make the one she loves happy and comfortable, often placing her needs as secondary. It is our belief these natural qualities within the female, given the right environment and guidance, serve as a foundation upon which a more realized servility can be built and overtly embraced, without shame, scorn, or judgment.
Cherishing the natural grace and good of female submission is not a new idea, of course. Since recorded history began, every major culture across the world has depicted the feminine as soft, yielding, and passive. While it’s not a very popular idea in the contemporary world today, many nonetheless find value or interest in female submission, in the woman serving her man as his helpmate and source of pleasure. Humbled Females is a community web site that aligns with these values, even though they aren’t particularly in-vogue. Amidst the cultural ubiquity of female empowerment, we instead advocate the virtue and wisdom of female submission to a noble and worthy male dominance. We believe the dominant male and submissive female archetype is an old and recognizable one for a reason, and not simply due to the tired axiom of might makes right. We believe dominant male and submissive female relationships have thrived foremost over the ages because it is a relationship dynamic that simply works.
Humbled Females is an adult Internet community drawing readers from many walks of life, though the one unifying element bringing us together is our heartfelt belief of the good of adult relationships where females overtly and consensually submit to their male counterparts. The paradigm we celebrate here has been called many things in the past. Some refer to it as the natural order, some call it God’s will, while yet others think of it simply in terms of traditional sex roles. However you choose to describe it, complete female submission to exemplary male dominance is what this web site community is all about. Why? Because that’s the template we believe is most harmonious and fulfilling to the sexes, mentally, physically, and spiritually.
We know this isn’t a site for everyone. Some who come here will vehemently disagree with our views, and that’s quite fine. We’re not out to change the world, but instead, reclaim some animal wisdom of our species we believe has been overlooked at times in favor of contemporary “gender” experimentation. If what we’ve expressed here has managed to strike a chord in you, we invite you to further explore the articles and thoughts expressed here and we hope that you may be inspired to contribute any wisdom you have to share on the natural good of relationships in which females are humble, servile, and attuned to their instinctual feminine nature, a nature we believe is lovingly yielding at its heart, under the right circumstances.”
TUMBLR.
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