Flogged 'til it hurts

We watched The Princess Bride, and afterward, my husband pulled out the glow in the dark rope. "It's been a long time since I've tied you up," he said to me, "I should practice."

He admitted that now when he sees someone tied up in a movie, he thinks about me, and gets a little turned on himself, thinking about what I might be thinking.

So he started binding my wrists behind me, but the position was hurting my shoulders something terrible, and he conceded the point and tied my hands together in front of me instead, tugging the final knot tight. He turned me on stomach and started flogging me. "I'm not going to hurt you at all," he said, a grin in his voice, "since you say floggers don't hurt."

"I'm sure you can hurt me if you keep going hard enough," I responded, little gasps escaping me as he brought the softest of our floggers down on my ass again and again. When I started to whimper, he switched, going back into our drawer, pulling more floggers out. I saw he had the long paracord one in his hand and I gasped. "That one hurts. That one has always hurt."

"Oh really? Huh." Kneeling on the bed next to me, he applied the ouchy flogger to my already tender backside. I groaned, twisted, my feet occasionally rising up into the air. It's so pretty but it has such a hard bite to it, and he was in a position where he could keep going for a while, so he did. I broke out into a sweat, my clenching hands sliding against each other in their forced proximity.

When he'd tenderized me and I was squirming and gasping, trying my hardest not to drag myself away with my bound hands, he put the flogger down and switched to a softer one, but heavier than the first one he'd been using. I lifted my ass into the air, waiting, begging for more of it. Oh, that one's my favorite. Thud, thud, thud, stroooke. Oh, yes. I purred.

He went back to the drawer, and he pulled out the tickler and the wooden spoon. I saw him and I whimpered, hiding my face in my bound fists.

"Mmmm," he said, stroking my ass gently with his fingers, "should I be good," he ran the tickler lightly over my red ass, making me sigh softly, "or bad?" he ran the wooden spoon over the same flesh, pressing just hard enough for me to feel the smoothness of it.

"Good... or bad?" he repeated the action. Tickler, spoon, good, bad, oh God, I was breathing so quickly, nervous, waiting for the first strike of that spoon to smack into me. He built that anticipation to a fever pitch, and then he peppered me all over with light taps of the spoon, covering the canvas of my ass in little light smacks that felt pretty nice, actually. "That doesn't hurt, does it?" he asked as I sighed with a bit of relief.

"No sir," I said.

"Hm, so, I think I've decided. I'll be good," he said, brushing the tickler across my lower back, making me sigh softly again, "and bad!" SLAP went the wooden spoon against my burning ass. Oh, God. I bit back a scream, the bulk of it still escaping through my clenched lips.

"Mm, that hurt, huh?" he said, brushing the tickler across me, then smacking the spoon into my skin again in another spot, another scream forced from behind my closed lips into my clasped hands. I kicked. He kept it up, the tickler followed by the spoon, all over my ass. I was whimpering with the pain when he finally stopped.

He followed that with hard hand spankings, making me wonder if the spanking would ever, ever end. By this time I was really feeling the helplessness of my bound hands.

"You think you can turn over?" he asked me, pressing his lips to mine for a long, soft, heated kiss. "You think your ass can handle that?" I nodded slowly and twisted onto my back as he pulled his face away from mine.

"Oh look, all these buttons! When the lights are off I can't see them, but I can see them now." My arms over my head, out of his way, I was helpless as he undid my buttons and pulled the top of my shirt open, gently moving the fabric to both sides to expose both my breasts. He took a nipple in his mouth, sucked on it hard, biting at it to make me squeal, then slapped that breast a few times.

He knocked my legs open quickly, stroked my inner thigh gently, gazing into my eyes. "Your leg is sensitive here," he mused, listening to my quickened breath as his fingertips on my skin gave me chills. "It hurts you when I hit you here."

I nodded.

"Are you afraid I'm going to hit you here?" he asked, not varying his gentle strokes.

"Yes sir."

"You should be," he  whispered, slapping me there sharply. He hit my inner thighs until I twisted, trying to close my legs, little reedy screams escaping from me, and then he shoved my legs open again and kept doing it, climbing between my legs to keep them open, continuing on with the harsh slaps to my sensitive places. I struggled, my legs raising up around him.

He leaned over me, grabbed my breasts, squeezed them together and kneaded them firmly, biting at and sucking my nipples before he would sit back up and slap my breasts more. I bucked beneath him, gasping with pleasure and pain, my legs trying to wrap around him when he was leaning over. So good, and so intense. I could feel his hard cock nudging at my pussy, and I wanted it. I tried humping up at him.

"If I was a nice man, I'd give you my cock. I'm not a nice man. But I am a horny man, and that may just be close enough for you." He slid the head of his cock inside me, pumping just that bit slowly while my body rose up, begging for more. "Is there a problem, slut?"

"Want more cock," I panted, trying really hard to lift my hips enough. I couldn't grab him, my hands were tied. He just kept slipping the head of his cock in and out of me, rubbing it against my opening while it was inside, making me groan with want and arch up to him.

"Mmm, but I like it like this," he said, resting his head next to mine briefly, his hot breath in my ear making me shiver, "and isn't that what you're for? For me to use for my pleasure?"

"Yes sir," I said, biting back a whimper of need.

"Mmm, but, I suppose it might feel good to be more inside you too. You're a lucky girl that I'm so horny," he informed me as he oh-so-slowly sank his length all the way into me, a deep groan of contentment issuing from him as he did.

I answered with a similar pleased noise and ground my hips up against him, wanting to grab his hips and pull him to me, pulling against my ropes. "Lucky girl," I panted, "thank you."

He fucked me slowly, grinding down into me. My eyes closed from the intensity of the experience, and I heard him as he chanced to glance down at me, writhing underneath him, my arms bound and stretched over my head, my shirt open to my navel exposing both my breasts. "Oh, look at you, slut, all tied up and on display for me," he said, making me moan softly at being so bare before him.

He ground into me, and slowly grabbed a nipple and squeezed, increasing the pressure until I screamed and then softly whined as he continued to move inside of me, not letting it go.  He'd release it, do the same with the other one, then start the cycle over, making me undulate underneath him with pain and desire.

He pulled his cock away from me sometime later and I gasped, wanting. He ignored my whimpers of desire and sat atop me, trapping me between his thighs, while he slapped my breasts. Oh God, I could see him, sitting straight and tall straddling my hips, his hand coming down to strike my breasts. He was looking back at me too, and I shivered as our eyes met, rocking at the impacts to my body.

He moved up a bit more, slid his hard cock, slick with my juices, into my mouth. I sucked it down greedily, as far as I could. I couldn't lift myself to him. Oh, God, the helplessness of not being able to use my hands. He lifted my head, supported it as he fucked me in the face. "Is that good, fuck toy?" he asked me as he pressed into the back of my throat, making me gag and choke.

He pulled away, leaving my mouth a round 'O' of desire, and sat on my stomach, started slapping my breasts again. "Oh, you didn't get enough cock, did you?" he asked as I whimpered. I shook my head.

He slid back into my mouth, pushing my pillow under my head to allow him a better angle. "Is that better, cocksucker? Does that let you get more cock in your face?"

"Mmf, mmf, mmf, mmhmm," I managed.

He pulled away again, sitting up and slapping my breasts yet again. Wow. Half-crazed lusty whimpers emerged from me, animalistic cries of need.

"You still want the cock, don't you?" he observed, brilliantly. "Yeah, we should give you more cock."

He rolled off to the side, telling me to turn and take him in my mouth.

Oh, yes. Oh, fuck, yes.

I sucked him all the way in, my hands still tied and above my head. Oh, God, how I wanted to pull him close to me. I felt his arm near my hands and I clutched at it as I sucked him.

His hands pushed on my head, shoving his cock into my throat. Lovely. He talked to me as I sucked. "You were such a good fuck toy to me this morning," he said, making me scream as he recalled what had happened. "You didn't get to enjoy me much, but I needed to get off, and you got me off, didn't you? What a good little fuck hole you are." I squealed around his cock at that, so very very aroused. "Yeah, you like being my good little fuck hole, don't you, slut?"

Oh, God, yes. Yes.

"How would your pussy like to be fucked?" he asked me after a while. I made a pleased noise around his cock, but made no effort to move. "Turn over then," he told me, pinching hard on my nipple in order to get me to move.

I turned over, and then he was pressing his cock effortlessly into my soaking pussy from behind, and I was moaning, lost.

Ages later, his fingers found their way inside me, sliding into my pussy and ass, stroking my clit. Oh, how lovely the double penetration of his fingers feels. So amazing as my body clings to him while he pulls away.

Orgasms came and washed me away, and then we slept, after he'd untied me.

We woke not long after that, and we kissed and kissed, and he told me to turn over and take him, and oh yes, I was ready for him.

So glad my sexual self has come back to play.