Bad, bad man

It was late when we went to bed Friday, and I was just a little sad, because we had to get up early and would more than likely be too exhausted on Saturday for anything to happen (we were, too). I curled into a little ball facing away from him, not wanting to seem too needy, knowing if I touched him that I would explode with want.

"Turn over," he told me, not liking my curled-away posture. I rolled to my back, his arm under my head.

"All the way, so I can hold you properly. Even if you don't like it."

I obeyed, resting my head on his chest, a little sad still. "I do like for you to hold me."

"Even if part of you doesn't want to right now?"

"I do want to..."

He started gently stroking my hair, kissing the top of my head. "Take off your clothes," he said after a few minutes of that. I slid off my night shirt, not really expecting anything to come of it.

"Good girl."

"My naked girl."

Holding me in one arm, he started hitting my breasts with the other, over and over, pushing moans of varying intensity out of me. "Good naked girl." He hit me on the inside of my forearm, where it rested on the bed, and I gasped. "Mine!" He slapped my breasts back and forth, not stopping, not letting me absorb the experience, just inundating me with the blows. I moaned constantly.

"I like these breasts, I like these nipples." He got a gear tie out and tightened it around my nipple, making me whimper with the pain, squeezing it tight.

"Turn over, naked girl, so I can give your ass some attention. And you'll let me know if that thing comes off your nipple, right?"

I turned over as he requested, my nipple with the tie squeezed around it smashing into the mattress.

"I'm going to fuck this ass." He spanked me with his hand. "But not yet."

"Is your mouth ready to be my pussy?"
"You're my little fuck toy, I like to use your mouth as a fuck hole."

More. It seemed he kept ramping up the intensity of what he was saying to see what kind of physical reaction he would get from me. He got a lot of them... then he rolled me onto my back, his fingers found their way between my thighs and he played with my pussy, sliding his fingers into me slowly and gliding his thumb delicately across my clit.

"What could be better than this? Could having that thing off your nipple, maybe?"

"No..."

"Oh, no? Hm. I know! Having your face fucked would be better, right? After all," he whispered roughly into my ear, his fingers making me gasp and moan and arch helplessly at the pleasure, "this only gives you pleasure. And having your face fucked gives me pleasure. Isn't that better?"

"Yes sir," I whimpered, out of my mind, tossing my head.

"Do you want your face fucked, or do you want that thing off your nipple?"

"Fuck my face, please.."

"Mmm, you really want your face fucked, huh? OR... do you just not feel it anymore?" He reached over and squeezed the tie together around my nipple, making me scream. "Oh, huh. That hurts, doesn't it?"

Finally, he let me slide down and suck his cock. He held the back of my head and I made all those happy noises I always make, gripping him with my hands.

He came down my throat, ages later. He started to pull away from me first, but I kept sucking. "Go on then, let me fuck your horny face," he told me, grabbing my head and thrusting into me hard and fast until his pleasure erupted.

Then there was flogging. On and on, my face against his thigh, holding his hip with one hand and his thigh in the other.

"How does your ass feel?" he checked with me after some time.

"Okay." I love being flogged. It felt lovely.

"'Okay'? Hm." I heard him go after another implement. "I'm going to make your ass not feel okay anymore." He brushed the very fine, very solid wooden spoon against my backside, and I inhaled sharply with fear. He hit me with it, sharp and hard, twice on one cheek, once on the other. I squealed and gripped his hip and thigh tightly, clinging to him for strength, not wanting to stop him but not seeing how I could take it. He hit me with it more, making my brain boil. Then, suddenly, he was still hitting me with it but it was bearable. My noises continued, but with less intensity. I could handle it.

He muttered to himself, "Hmmmmm, wrong side. Let's see." He paused, flipped the spoon over in his hand, and hit me with it again.

"Arrrggghhhhk," I screamed, burying my face in my pillow to muffle it. Holy crap, that much difference from hitting me with the opposite side of the thing?

"Mmm, that's better," he crowed.

"Hurts so much," I whimpered, still clinging to him.

"Mmm, I know it does," he told me, landing a few more blows on my poor ass before he stopped. He ran his hands gently over the red, sore flesh, making me jump and whine.

"I know that spoon hurts you. But I hit you with it anyway. I'm a bad, bad man. How does your ass feel now?"

"Hurts," I responded.

"Good. Now let's see if we can make you forget about that, huh?" he asked as he went into the drawer again. I heard the lube cap pop, as he kept talking to me. "Hm, looks like there are some marks on this ass." He kept rubbing his hands across the painful parts where he'd hit me with the spoon, making me jump and jerk, and then I felt his finger, slick with lubricant, sliding into my ass. I moaned softly, and he slid it in and out slowly.

"How's that feel, baby?"

"Mmm, good," I said, practically purring.

"Oh, it's much better than that nasty spoon hitting you, isn't it?"

"Mmhmm..."

Too soon, he stopped with the finger, which was feeling fabulous, and I felt him press the plug against my hole. "It's going in your ass. Ooh, it doesn't want to. But I'm going to make it."

And here is where I gloss over because my brain short-circuited as soon as his fingers made contact with my extreme arousal. I was a pool of need, and he slid his fingers into me and made me come over and over. "Too full," I begged at one point, as I think he had all his fingers in there and the plug was in me and it was overwhelming and his thumb began to play with my ass where it was stretched around the plug...

"Mmm, I don't think there's any such thing as too full for you, slut," he told me, continuing what he was doing.

"I think we'll just leave that plug right there for a while," he told me afterward, and he fell asleep. I tried to, and I've been able to once before, but it just felt so impossibly huge inside me that every time I moved I moaned and humped the air.

"Oh, can I do anything for you, love? Anything at all?" he asked, waking up some time later to taunt me, it seemed. "You're making more noise now than you were when I was doing things to you," he said. Surely a lie. Surely not more. Then his hand was inside me again, and there were more orgasms. He removed the plug when he was finished with me this time, thankfully.

"You're a good master," I purred, curled into his arms, exhausted.

"Mmmm, you're a good slave."