Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Such a chore

I asked my husband as we lay tangled in each other's arms if it was a chore being married to me. He was distraught, saddened that I would even ask such a question, that it wasn't bloody obvious to me.

He was holding me with my head on his left arm, his left hand gripping my left wrist, me lying on my back. His fingers tightened around my wrist and I purred as the fingers of his right hand stroked down the sensitive inner part of my forearm. Stroking me there is the first way he ever turned me on, and it seemed a lovely callback. But then he pulled his hand back and slapped me there. I gasped and jumped, reflexively pulling at my arm a bit. His grip didn't relax, he held it there, stroked it gently again, then slapped, again, again, making me jump and gasp.

I've fantasized about such a thing... but I hadn't told him. Here he was doing it, making me purr and then slapping me on the sensitive inside of my arm... I trembled, feeling very very exposed, like he could read my mind.

He held on to my hand as he switched targets to my nipple, hitting my breast with blows of increasing intensity, until I started curling up and my body broke into a sweat, and beyond that.

"You're mine. I can hurt you if I want to. Can you imagine why I might be hitting you right now?"

"No," I whimpered, my body writhing helplessly as he kept hurting me.

"Maybe it's because you called yourself a chore. You're not a chore. You're here for my pleasure, aren't you? You're my girl. I'm your master. You please me. How can you be a chore, silly girl?" He hit me the whole time he talked.

I just whimpered in response.

"Oh, I know, it's just not fair for me to beat your poor breast like that, is it?" he asked sarcastically. "Not without giving the same to the other one," he finished his thought, slapping the other breast just as hard, many more times. I arched and writhed, trying to meet the blows and escape them at the same time, feeling the sweat become a slick sheen over my skin.

"I'm going to pinch it now," he said, his fingertips stroking around my nipple, making me whimper in anticipation of the pain. He pinched it just a little at first, slowly increasing the pressure and the pain, a breathless scream emerging from me as it grew unbearable. "Kiss me," he ordered in the midst of my scream. I tilted my open mouth to his and he took my screams into himself, kissing me deeply, continuing to increase the pressure, pulling my breast up by the nipple as he did.

"Good slut," he whispered against my lips as he released my nipple. "Maybe instead of calling you my slut, I should just call you my chore." I whined sadly against his mouth. "Oh, you don't like the sound of that, do you? Well, it doesn't matter what you like, chore, your job is to take what I want to give you." His hand moved to the other breast. "I'm going to pinch this one too, now," he informed me, claiming my lips in another steamy hot kiss as he pinched, pulling, sucking the cries of my pain into his body as he created them.

"You want me, don't you? You want me to fuck your face," he said, releasing my mouth and my nipple, his fingers stroking my burning breasts delicately.

"Oh, yes, please," I begged.

"Mmm, but it's such a chore to fuck you, so I don't know."


"Oh, you want to suck that cock, don't you? It's right there.. but you can't suck it yet."

He let me curl my body toward it, it was less than an inch from my lips, hard, straining toward me. I slid my tongue out, moaning softly, my breasts burning with the beating they'd already taken, to lick the swollen head of his cock. He taunted me for a few minutes, letting me lick it longingly, before he finally relented. "Mmm, okay, well... I suppose you can suck it, but I'm going to have to hurt you if you do."

That was all the permission I needed. I opened my mouth wide and sucked his cock in, moaning softly with pleasure. His hand came crashing down onto my already-hurting breast, and I turned slightly on my back to allow him to hit me there better, screaming a little around his cock with the pain as the intensity of it increased. "My chore really wanted to suck my cock, didn't she?" he asked as he hit me, hard. "Bad, bad girl." I finally pulled away when the pain of his blows on my breasts became too much to bear, curling into a ball of pain, whimpering that it hurt.

"Poor slut, you just want to make me feel good, is that right? Bearing all that pain just to suck some cock..."

I nuzzled his cock with my nose, nodding against him. "Yes sir," I breathed.

"Mmm, okay, girl, I suppose I can let you suck it without hurting you." He stroked my head gently. "But.. you'll have to tell me 'thank you' every time I take my cock out of your mouth. Can you do that, slut?"

"Uh-huh," I panted, opening my mouth wide, ready.

His hands twined in my hair and he pushed my face onto his cock, pressing deep into my throat. "Take it, take it, girl," he urged me as my throat convulsed around the invasion. "Mmm, such a fucking chore to fuck you in the face, slut," he told me as he held my head and thrust into me. I gagged as he hit bottom, trying to straighten my throat out more as he pushed into it.

He thrust more, tugging on my hair, then moved my head up and down on his cock with a fistful of my hair as a handle. When he pulled away, resting the head of his cock against my lips, I whispered hoarsely, "Thank you."

"Mmmm, good girl," he said, forcing his cock back between my lips.

He rolled on top of me, fucked down into my face, his hands holding my face down to the mattress while he thrust. I couldn't move my head. I squealed, bucking under him. His legs brushed against my sore breasts, bringing fresh pain. I opened my throat as best I could and sucked like my life depended on it. "Mmm, you like it deep in there, don't you, slut?"

"Mmhmm," I managed to say around the cock filling my throat.

He pulled out of my throat, resting his cock against my lips again, and I hoarsely whispered "Thank you, thank you," again.

"Mmm, you're welcome, chore. You want it back in there?"

I nodded, and he teased me, rubbing it all around my face, my open mouth trying to capture it. "Yeah, I know your horny face wants it," he whispered, finally pressing it into my mouth, sliding to the back of my throat, holding my face down and fucking me there for a long time.

He pulled out again, waiting for my "Thank you," and then rolling to my side, pulling me with him, pressing my breasts around his cock and thrusting there, the sweat of my body and the saliva coating his cock lubricating his passage between my breasts. His hand gripped the top one tightly and I moaned, feeling every thrust against my tender, abused flesh.

"Such a chore to fuck your tits," he said, one hand squeezing my breast and the other holding my head against him, stroking my hair as I moaned at each thrust. "Does this hurt? Did the bad man beat up your poor breasts and then fuck them?"

"Mmhmm," I whimpered, pressing my lips to his chest and kissing him, sucking lightly, my arm wrapped around his slim hips, pulling him as close to me as I could.

"Mmm, good," he said.


He was on top of me, fucking my pussy. I lifted my legs into the air on either side of him. "Mmmmm, such a fucking chore to fuck this pussy," he whispered, kissing me as he ground his body into mine.

I bent my knees, and he gripped one of my ankles, holding it out to the side of my body while I held on to the other one. I moaned constantly. "So fucking good," I whispered, opening my eyes to look into his. I couldn't bear the intensity of seeing this handsome man there above me, knowing he was inside me. I spasmed briefly and closed my eyes again.

"It's okay," he said roughly, "you can look at me while I fuck you."

I groaned deeply and opened my eyes again, gazing up at him for another moment before I was overcome again. I really couldn't. I lifted my legs higher.

"Nothing but a fuck hole now, are you?" he asked, making me moan my agreement as he moved, enjoying the sensation my lifted legs created, opening me up to him fully.

"It'd be really nice to come inside you," he mused as he fucked me, "but where?"

"Oh, oh, oh, my ass, come in my ass," I managed between my moans of pleasure.

"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you, chore?" He waited for my whimper and my positive response as he kept sliding inside me. "You like having your ass fucked until you can't stand it? And then beyond that, huh?" He kept grinding down into me, fucking me for a long, long time. I'm amazed at his stamina.

Eventually he said, "Okay, I'll come in your ass. But you can suck my cock some more first." I moaned loudly, excitedly, at that. Love.

"Mmm, my chore likes that, doesn't she?" he said, rolling off of me, making pleased noises as I dove after his cock with a vengeance and a hungry growl. "That cock taste good?" he asked, and I purred, delighted, sucking him into me, rolling my tongue across his lovely, lovely cock.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm... you just let me know when your mouth is tired of that cock, and I'll fuck you in the ass," he said.

I pulled away slightly, just enough to whisper "Not gonna happen," against the head of his cock before devouring him again.

"Not gonna get tired of it? Oh.. guess it's up to me then, isn't it?"

"Mmmmmm-hmmm," I purred, enjoying myself immensely at my assigned task, sliding my mouth up and down.

"Mmm, well, I'm not terribly inclined to stop you," he murmured through his pleased noises, "I like fucking your face." I was propped up on an elbow but I laid down, pulling him over on his side, and we stayed like that for a long, long time.

"Oh, that's right," he finally said, ages later, "you said you weren't going to get tired of that cock. You ready to get up on that ramp and have your ass fucked?"

"Nuh-uh," I whispered, sliding my tongue across the head of his cock. I hadn't thought we'd have to have the Liberator ramp involved. I'd envisioned something a bit more relaxing.

"Mmm, well, I'm ready to shove this cock into that tiny little asshole of yours and fuck it," he said brusquely, getting up, walking around to the bed, and putting the ramp on it.

I climbed up on the ramp obediently, presenting myself on my elbows and knees, and he was gently applying lube to my ass, stretching me just a tiny bit with a finger. Too soon, his cock was pressing against my tiny, tiny opening, then he burst through, holding still for just a moment.

"Mmmmmmm, how's that?" he asked.

"Uhhh, too big," I begged, desperate for a bit of time to adjust.

"Mmmmmm, nonsense," he said, gripping my hips and pumping despite my cries of discomfort. "See? It fills you up good, doesn't it? Such a chore to fuck you in the ass, slut, but somebody's gotta do it."

He moved slowly, and very, very slowly, I adjusted, and then it felt amazing. He pulled me up, to my hands, then a little beyond that, forcing me to balance on my fingertips, and pressed his front to my back, all along the lengths of our bodies, gripping my breasts. "Oh my God, oh, my God," I moaned, overwhelmed with love and devotion and sensation. If only we could stay like that for longer.

"I love you so fucking much, slut," he whispered as he moved inside me.

He reached around my thigh and let his fingers play in my pussy, his other hand yanking on my hair or gripping my throat. I screamed a lot.

He slid his fingers out of my pussy and stood up straighter, gripping my hips. "Such a fucking whore.." he said, quite clearly, deliberately. I startled, surprised, a whimper of uncertainty slipping out of me. "Yeah, you heard me right, fuckin' whore. Fucking chore," he said, gripping my hair tightly and pulling my head up and back toward him, making me cry out, a constant stream of ohmygod pouring from my open mouth as he moved inside my ass.

The intensity built and built and it grew from intensely pleasurable to almost unbearable, and he was still moving, still hard inside me. He moved faster and I was grunting with every movement; he felt impossibly huge inside my ass, which squeezed tighter around him involuntarily every time I thought about it. Then he was moving faster, moaning, grunting, excited, and I moaned with him because I felt him swell to an even more impossible hugeness.

He pumped his orgasm inside me as I urged him on with my moans, and he kept moving slowly, gently, afterwards.

"You want to lie down with me? Now that that chore's over with.." he murmured softly, sarcasm dripping from the last part. I whined and nodded, and he slowly withdrew, running his hands over my back. He pulled away from me and I stumbled off the ramp, pushing it off the bed and collapsing with my head toward the foot of the bed. He slid up next to me, pressing his body to my back, squeezing me close, hooking my top foot with his and pulling it back so he could slide his fingers to my pussy. I moaned, so sensitive there, trembling in the circle of his arm. His fingers were relentless, coaxing the pleasure from my exhausted body, whispering in my ear. "Sexy slut, I love you so much," he said. "You like this, don't you?" I purred for response, my body writhing as the pleasure built and built. It became too much and he liked that, as my body shook. "Mmm, yesss, squirm for me, baby," he murmured commandingly in my ear, continuing on until I screamed with release, my legs trying to kick but trapped by his, just vibrating there.

He didn't stop there. I thought he would, but he didn't. Orgasms cascaded onto me, through me, and I screamed over and over. "Mmmhmm, yeah, baby, come again for me," he whispered right into my ear, his fingers playing their magic on my body.

 "I can't, I can't take anymore, love, please, please, love..."

"Mmm, yeah you can," his sexy voice said straight into my ear, his fingers pushing, pushing, and then I was screaming even louder, my legs vibrating between his, my whole body a tense arch of release, and I was begging him again to stop.

"Mmm, you can come again for me," he assured me.

"No, love, no..." I begged, writhing, trying uselessly to close my legs to him, to get away from the all-consuming intensity of the pleasure he was forcing on me.

"You don't get to say no, slut," he reminded me, forcing the loudest, hardest, longest orgasm from me. I collapsed against him afterward, panting, and he held me quietly as I rolled into his arms, resting my head on his chest, dropping little kisses all over him.

We talked. We talked and stroked and kissed and we turned around the right way on the bed to get the blankets on us and he held me against his chest and we talked more, about the amazing sex we'd just had, about how lucky we both felt to have each other, about how amazing our life together is. We talked for half an hour or more, kissing each other randomly in between. I told him, after some time, how it affected me to open my eyes and see his handsome face above me while he's inside of me, and he said that he'd noticed that.

"I think... it turns me on a little bit, the power I have over you," he told me.

"mmm, just a little?" I asked, grinning, kissing the smile on his face.

"Mmm, okay, a lot," he admitted. "I think you'll find I'm turned on right now..."


Well, one thing led to another.

And another, and another, in the morning after we'd slept...

I feel like I hit the kinky nympho jackpot.

I suppose I'm not a chore after all.


  1. This made mouse smile (and just a bit hot) but honestly think the point was made beautifully!


    1. Only a bit hot? ;) Yeah, he made his point... and made us both feel fantastic in the process. That's my kind of being proven wrong.

  2. I'm having flashbacks to Sunday night, heeheehee. Thanks for putting into words, things I can only remember :)It's fun being a kinky nympho, isn't it?

    1. This was our Sunday night as well! Yay for no work in the morning. We were up touching and talking and having sex until something like 3 in the morning. It was amazing.

      Oh yes, it certainly is fun.

  3. Mh, looking forward to tonight after reading this~!

    1. Ooh, I'm glad to hear that. I love when my posts inspire people to get it on. ;)

  4. how DO you remember all the details...? I mostly just get transported into the whirlwind and then everything becomes a big blur of yummy!

    1. This made me laugh a little, because this particular interlude went on for so very very long that there are two very large gaps in my recollection. (indicated by the -----s) I remember that stuff happened there, but not exactly what. :) There was so much sex between this and me sitting down to write it (we had sex four times that night and the next morning! FOUR!) and some of the details seemed to have intermingled, so since I wasn't certain of those, I left them out.

      I very much get the whirlwind - honestly, I spend a lot of time reliving it in my head just after it happens. When I go to write a post, I usually start with all the hottest things that he said to me. Those are my anchor points for the experience, because the words burn brightest for me. Once I've got a nice page of quotes then I can sort of remember what went on in between them.

      The beginnings and the ends are always the clearest, but often the middle is a mush until I sort it out to stuff-that-happens-between-quotations. And sometimes even then, it's lost to short-circuits. Hence the dashes.

      I do my best to record what I can. :) I like to read it again later.

  5. So funny that Fondlers asked you that...I always wondered the same myself, how do you remember?? Sometimes I wish I would, but I never do, it's just a blur! The only way I can remember if I think to myself (during the act) "Remember x" and "Remember y" but then I get distracted! Sounds like you've got it down to an art, though! :)

    1. So, wait.. the reason so few people are writing about the actual sex they're having isn't because I'm just a brazen hussy who overshares.... but because they can't remember? I feel so much better about myself.

      Okay, maybe I jumped to conclusions... but still. Sometimes I have a bit of a complex.

      My recall has always been pretty good, but it's only gotten better since I started writing for other people to understand it. It has to make more sense, then, than when I was just writing for my own archives.

      And he's gotten so good at the talking, that even when I'm starting to drift off into no-remember land, there's another bright anchor of hotness to cling to...

    2. LOL re brazen hussy. Sometimes I feel like I'm over-sharing too. And I suppose that's why I tell myself it's ok if I don't remember everything cos "NOT EVERYONE wants to know what you get up to in the sack" hello?!

      And sometimes I edit bits out cos we talk about private stuff that we agree I shouldn't tell the world. So that sometimes interrupts the flow too.

      But mostly, tho, as Riley says - I tell myself the bits that I simply HAVE to write and the rest just gets lost in the heat!

    3. This conversation made me laugh. You sure aren't the only brazen hussy out here. You're just the only one who is good with the details :) Thank goodness someone is, lol.

    4. @FA, Maybe NOT EVERYONE does, but surely SOME PEOPLE do? Well, judging by the people who read and never say anything, someone does. :) I leave out a few bits here and there, but for the sake of the narrative I try to join it seamlessly. When I can't, I employ the dashes, or sometimes a horizontal rule.

      @faerie, I'm so glad to know! Seriously, such a relief.


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