"My nipples were really, really sensitive today," I whispered against his chest as he held me in his arms in bed. He'd abused them pretty terribly the night before and every time I moved, all day, I was reminded of that fact.
"Maybe you should stop hanging out with a nipple sadist," he replied into my hair.
As if.
Showing posts with label nipple torture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nipple torture. Show all posts
Friday, January 17, 2014
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Keeping it real
On the plane, hours and hours and hours with no privacy, surrounded by foreigners he understands but I don't, he snuggles against me while our munchkin sleeps.
"Would my girl like a blanket?" he asks, and the intimation is clear. I pull the blanket over us even though it's hot. So hot. Too many bodies, too close for too long.
His hand, now hidden by the blanket, snakes under my shirt, strokes my nipple. I moan softly, quietly, low enough the roar of the engines hide it. His fingers pinch, tighten, and I want to squeal but I just breathe harder, tamping down the urge to make noise.
"Good girl," he growls low into my ear. "Good fuck toy." He squeezes my nipple again and the pain rockets through my body like a bolt of lightning. I can only just bear it, though a whimper escapes. "My good fuck hole," he says, and I am instantly hotter, too hot, I can't breathe at all now. He slowly removes his hand and I toss the blanket away, pulling away from him to allow some air to circulate around me. Passing out from desire wouldn't serve anyone.
It's not a game.
He's pretty good at keeping it real.
"Would my girl like a blanket?" he asks, and the intimation is clear. I pull the blanket over us even though it's hot. So hot. Too many bodies, too close for too long.
His hand, now hidden by the blanket, snakes under my shirt, strokes my nipple. I moan softly, quietly, low enough the roar of the engines hide it. His fingers pinch, tighten, and I want to squeal but I just breathe harder, tamping down the urge to make noise.
"Good girl," he growls low into my ear. "Good fuck toy." He squeezes my nipple again and the pain rockets through my body like a bolt of lightning. I can only just bear it, though a whimper escapes. "My good fuck hole," he says, and I am instantly hotter, too hot, I can't breathe at all now. He slowly removes his hand and I toss the blanket away, pulling away from him to allow some air to circulate around me. Passing out from desire wouldn't serve anyone.
It's not a game.
He's pretty good at keeping it real.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Step 3: Fuck the slave girl's brains out
Step 2 is here.
He climbs atop me and he slips his cock against my entrance. He's slow, easing it into me even though I would surge up into him and devour him into me. When he is completely buried inside me and I am pulsing around him, he grinds. He rocks into my clit just so and he's saying something about me, about owning me and me existing for his pleasure and being there for his cock. My body arches into him and I tremble, a series of short sharp pants emerging from my mouth.
"Did I say you could come again?" he asks sharply.
"Oh, God, no," I whimper, shaking. He wants this, wants me to come on command, and I'm not so good at it. But I can stop, though I tremble with the effort.
He puts his head down so that his lips are near my ear as he growls. "Then don't. I'll tell you when you can come."
My head swims. It swims and pounds and I'm not sure exactly what he's doing but it's making me crazy. I groan, shuddering, at the edge of orgasm - right where he put me.
"Now," he finally says, driving his cock down into me, his lips still at my ear. "Come for me now!"
I do. I let go of the tenuous thread holding me to sanity and I fly, screaming, into the blissful abyss where he has sent me.
Time stretches, suspends, as he continues fucking me. He is brilliant, a sex god, a lover of epic proportions and all I want is to please him and feel the pleasure he gains from me in all the ways he does.
"I'm going to fuck your ass next," he growls down at me. I whimper.
"You like the sound of that?" he asks.
It occurs to me now, that a lot of what he says during sex is making sure I'm happy. At the time it sounds like growling, sounds like orders and like him requiring me to vocalize. But he wants to be wanted too - of course he does. I wonder how much of his pleasure comes from knowing how much he pleases me. I think it might be a lot. I know he likes this blog, likes having the window into my experience of him.
I do like the sound of it - anal sex - his cock invading my ass, pushing me open, claiming me. I like the sound of it very very much. He circles his hips against me and I arch up into him. "Yes, Master, I like your cock invading me," I gasp.
He pulls away from me. Oh, no. Now I'm empty. I groan with disappointment as he rolls to my side.
"Is the poor girl empty?" he asks gently, not too mockingly.
I dive after his wet cock with my mouth, making sure to cover my lip with my hand again. I lick my arousal off of him, suck him as best I can, while he gets the lube from the nightstand drawer.
"Turn over, girl," he finally says once he has retrieved the tube of slippery substance.
I do. I turn my back to him, bend myself nearly in half to provide him access to the part he wants. I'm shaking. I'm excited and a little afraid. We have anal sex rarely enough that each time is a little scary. Will he push too hard? Will he make it hurt? Will he go slowly enough so it's not overwhelming pain?
And this time, after the lube is applied and my tiny opening prepared for him, he is perfect. I reach behind me and hold his cock steady, and he pushes just a tiny bit, then retreats and repeats. Over and over, each time entering me just a little more, making me open for him, penetrating my resistance as I moan deeply. It's overwhelming but not with pain, just sensation and awe at how absolutely perfect the entire experience is.
"Going to fuck your ass," he growls as he is finally all the way inside me. He grabs my hip and thrusts. I cry out - it's amazing, he feels amazing. My muscles squeeze around his foreskin and his cock slides within it as it's meant to.
His hand cups my breast, lifts the warm weight of it. His fingers press gently around my nipple. "Going to pinch your nipple," he says roughly, right in my ear.
Shivers run down my spine. "Okay," I whimper.
"Going to pinch it hard," he continues.
Oh, God. "Okay," I whimper again.
"Going to pinch your nipple hard while I fuck you in the ass," he clarifies.
"Oh my God," I moan, and then he is doing what he said, slowly compressing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until I squeal with the pain of it. It's intense, and sharp, and he never stops moving his cock.
"Does it hurt, slave?" he asks. When I merely continue squealing he says "Good. Good girl."
He stops pinching, and he slaps. He slaps my nipple and I groan. It burns, it stings, then it tingles. My nipple turns into a little pebble and he slaps it again. He's talking now too, something about ownership and pain and love.
I am out of my mind with pleasure, but he is pulling my leg backward over his waist. It's slightly different than vaginal sex in this position, but he still has free access to my pussy - now pulled open for his enjoyment. He's talking, still, as his fingers find my wetness and play there. Fingers enter my body, my flesh separating his fingers from his cock, and I moan. "Is my girl full?" he asks.
I am beyond words. I respond but it's a mumbled grunt. God, I love being his, I love him filling me up, love having him occupy my body and my space. I think about sex with him so often that when it does happen - every time it happens, even if it's every day - it's like a long-desired dream coming true.
I cannot say all that, but the feeling of it rushes through me and I scream as his fingers work their magic, as his cock fucks me in a place no one else has ever even touched me.
He comes - he must have come - but I can't process it. I'm too far gone. His fingers gently stroke me as I come down from the mountain. We're still in the same position, my leg backward around his waist, his softening cock in my ass. My hand closest to him fumbles around, trying to find a place to touch him - his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, his head, and back again. My arm can't find a place where I can rest it on him without it sliding off. It's a weak sort of floppy arm movement and he laughs at me.
"What are you doing with that arm, girl?" he laughs.
"Want to love you," I mutter. He moves his arm, crooks it so that his forearm is holding mine in place so I can rest my hand on him comfortably.
I am spent.
But much later, when I am almost asleep and I am wrapped around him from behind, squeezing him and kissing his neck softly as I drowse, he suddenly says "Turn over so I can fuck you some more."
Oh my God. My stomach does flip-flips. Just to hear those words come out of his mouth sends me all aflutter. I do as he's asked, and he has his way with me from behind. It's like a birthday and a road trip and an excellent homecooked meal all rolled into one. This happens even more rarely than anal, that he interrupts my sleep to take me.
"Where did that come from?" I ask him.
"Mmm, I was thinking about how sexy you are and I got turned on and I thought I should take it since it's mine."
Holy hell. Hotter words were never spoken.
He climbs atop me and he slips his cock against my entrance. He's slow, easing it into me even though I would surge up into him and devour him into me. When he is completely buried inside me and I am pulsing around him, he grinds. He rocks into my clit just so and he's saying something about me, about owning me and me existing for his pleasure and being there for his cock. My body arches into him and I tremble, a series of short sharp pants emerging from my mouth.
"Did I say you could come again?" he asks sharply.
"Oh, God, no," I whimper, shaking. He wants this, wants me to come on command, and I'm not so good at it. But I can stop, though I tremble with the effort.
He puts his head down so that his lips are near my ear as he growls. "Then don't. I'll tell you when you can come."
My head swims. It swims and pounds and I'm not sure exactly what he's doing but it's making me crazy. I groan, shuddering, at the edge of orgasm - right where he put me.
"Now," he finally says, driving his cock down into me, his lips still at my ear. "Come for me now!"
I do. I let go of the tenuous thread holding me to sanity and I fly, screaming, into the blissful abyss where he has sent me.
Time stretches, suspends, as he continues fucking me. He is brilliant, a sex god, a lover of epic proportions and all I want is to please him and feel the pleasure he gains from me in all the ways he does.
"I'm going to fuck your ass next," he growls down at me. I whimper.
"You like the sound of that?" he asks.
It occurs to me now, that a lot of what he says during sex is making sure I'm happy. At the time it sounds like growling, sounds like orders and like him requiring me to vocalize. But he wants to be wanted too - of course he does. I wonder how much of his pleasure comes from knowing how much he pleases me. I think it might be a lot. I know he likes this blog, likes having the window into my experience of him.
I do like the sound of it - anal sex - his cock invading my ass, pushing me open, claiming me. I like the sound of it very very much. He circles his hips against me and I arch up into him. "Yes, Master, I like your cock invading me," I gasp.
He pulls away from me. Oh, no. Now I'm empty. I groan with disappointment as he rolls to my side.
"Is the poor girl empty?" he asks gently, not too mockingly.
I dive after his wet cock with my mouth, making sure to cover my lip with my hand again. I lick my arousal off of him, suck him as best I can, while he gets the lube from the nightstand drawer.
"Turn over, girl," he finally says once he has retrieved the tube of slippery substance.
I do. I turn my back to him, bend myself nearly in half to provide him access to the part he wants. I'm shaking. I'm excited and a little afraid. We have anal sex rarely enough that each time is a little scary. Will he push too hard? Will he make it hurt? Will he go slowly enough so it's not overwhelming pain?
And this time, after the lube is applied and my tiny opening prepared for him, he is perfect. I reach behind me and hold his cock steady, and he pushes just a tiny bit, then retreats and repeats. Over and over, each time entering me just a little more, making me open for him, penetrating my resistance as I moan deeply. It's overwhelming but not with pain, just sensation and awe at how absolutely perfect the entire experience is.
"Going to fuck your ass," he growls as he is finally all the way inside me. He grabs my hip and thrusts. I cry out - it's amazing, he feels amazing. My muscles squeeze around his foreskin and his cock slides within it as it's meant to.
His hand cups my breast, lifts the warm weight of it. His fingers press gently around my nipple. "Going to pinch your nipple," he says roughly, right in my ear.
Shivers run down my spine. "Okay," I whimper.
"Going to pinch it hard," he continues.
Oh, God. "Okay," I whimper again.
"Going to pinch your nipple hard while I fuck you in the ass," he clarifies.
"Oh my God," I moan, and then he is doing what he said, slowly compressing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until I squeal with the pain of it. It's intense, and sharp, and he never stops moving his cock.
"Does it hurt, slave?" he asks. When I merely continue squealing he says "Good. Good girl."
He stops pinching, and he slaps. He slaps my nipple and I groan. It burns, it stings, then it tingles. My nipple turns into a little pebble and he slaps it again. He's talking now too, something about ownership and pain and love.
I am out of my mind with pleasure, but he is pulling my leg backward over his waist. It's slightly different than vaginal sex in this position, but he still has free access to my pussy - now pulled open for his enjoyment. He's talking, still, as his fingers find my wetness and play there. Fingers enter my body, my flesh separating his fingers from his cock, and I moan. "Is my girl full?" he asks.
I am beyond words. I respond but it's a mumbled grunt. God, I love being his, I love him filling me up, love having him occupy my body and my space. I think about sex with him so often that when it does happen - every time it happens, even if it's every day - it's like a long-desired dream coming true.
I cannot say all that, but the feeling of it rushes through me and I scream as his fingers work their magic, as his cock fucks me in a place no one else has ever even touched me.
He comes - he must have come - but I can't process it. I'm too far gone. His fingers gently stroke me as I come down from the mountain. We're still in the same position, my leg backward around his waist, his softening cock in my ass. My hand closest to him fumbles around, trying to find a place to touch him - his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, his head, and back again. My arm can't find a place where I can rest it on him without it sliding off. It's a weak sort of floppy arm movement and he laughs at me.
"What are you doing with that arm, girl?" he laughs.
"Want to love you," I mutter. He moves his arm, crooks it so that his forearm is holding mine in place so I can rest my hand on him comfortably.
I am spent.
But much later, when I am almost asleep and I am wrapped around him from behind, squeezing him and kissing his neck softly as I drowse, he suddenly says "Turn over so I can fuck you some more."
Oh my God. My stomach does flip-flips. Just to hear those words come out of his mouth sends me all aflutter. I do as he's asked, and he has his way with me from behind. It's like a birthday and a road trip and an excellent homecooked meal all rolled into one. This happens even more rarely than anal, that he interrupts my sleep to take me.
"Where did that come from?" I ask him.
"Mmm, I was thinking about how sexy you are and I got turned on and I thought I should take it since it's mine."
Holy hell. Hotter words were never spoken.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Helpless
Right now, I'm barely managing to get around my apartment.
We went hiking, and I sprained the hell out of my ankle after nearly 4.5 miles on the trail. Thankfully it was a loop, and we were almost finished, so the ranger station was close. My love fetched a ranger to help us.
But now I am injured, and one of my deepest, darkest, most frightening and, yes, most exciting fantasies is to be used while being genuinely injured. The fear of possibly being hurt more, the true helplessness, it all blends together beautifully in my brain. I have a swollen, aching foot and the opposite knee is a mass of bruised tissue that hurts really badly as well.
It's been exhausting, relying on my arms, my good knee, and my good foot to get around. My brilliant, loving, sexy husband has been amazing - helpful and solicitous. He's let me give him blow jobs, and he's touched me, brought me to orgasm with his fingers, but he's been terrified of hurting me further - overwhelming me with gentleness. Which feels lovely and like love and I adore him for it, but I was ready for something a little rougher after a few days.
In the mean time, I had been sinking into the feeling of uselessness that comes with not being able to do much. I began to feel more and more like a useless lump of humanity.
I told him. I steeled myself for his shock or disgust, but I should know by now it's hard to faze this man. Even so, revealing these little hidden bits of myself feels terrifying. I told him that my injuries turned me on, made me feel actually, truly helpless. Not like I could get up and run away or anything.
And my man. My wonderful, open-minded, beautiful man who apparently would in actual fact do anything to make me happy, he responded by turning into an evil sadist bastard and beating me, just like I'd asked. He started once we were in bed and he was holding me, long enough after the conversation that I was a little surprised when he went for my ass.
My ass already hurt from sitting on it way too much with my foot up to keep the swelling down, but he didn't care as his hand smacked into my backside. I squealed, I stretched, I squirmed, but I couldn't even kick my injured foot out, couldn't stretch and push away from him with it. Couldn't bash my bruised knee into his leg. I couldn't do much of anything except accept it, cry out, process the pain.
Oh, how I processed the pain. It was brutal but it was teetering on the edge of orgasmic. My brain really, really processed it. It took that pain and wrung every morsel of feeling out of it, through the entire gamut from true discomfort to bliss. He wasn't holding back either, or if he was I couldn't tell. It hurt, and it felt incredible, all at once.
I carefully turned onto my other side, my back toward him, and he had an even better swing now, even more force into my backside. He brought a flogger into play then, smacking the heavy rope strands into my back, my ass, the backs of my legs. It felt incredibly heavy, nearly unbearable, and my body writhed. My foot wanted to push against the mattress, to stretch and to fight, but I had to keep it still or suffer even more.
"You can't get away from me," he growled into my ear, his free hand tangling into and tugging on my hair, "and I think I will fuck you tonight."
I whimpered in response, feeling my body respond, swell, lubricate for the fucking he was promising. But not yet.
My arms were over my head to protect my face and neck from any stray strands of the flogger, and he was taking a break, dragging the soft trailing nylon ends against my skin, making me purr. And then he targeted my breasts - a heavy smack of the heavy rope into my nipple. A knot caught me right on center and the breath whooshed out of me.
"Oh fuck," I breathed out, stretching as much as I could, thrusting my chest forward for more. Holy shit, that was incredible. I can't remember the last time he'd flogged my breasts and my breast was singing a hallelujah chorus of delight while my nipple simultaneously screamed in pain.
"Oh, I think you like that," he growled as he did it again, and again, and again. I screamed for the joy of it, for the pain of it when a knot would catch my nipple again, about every third strike.
"Don't even think of trying to get away," he said, trading the flogger for a braided version that terrifies me when he uses it on my ass. The nylon braids stroked my screaming nipple, made me gasp and whimper. "Writhe for me, girl, writhe. Good fuck toy," he whispered into my ear, swinging the braids down hard against my breast. "If you try to get away, I'll just have to drag you back and beat you more. Can you imagine how much that would hurt?"
I nodded, whimpering with a kind of aroused fear that is completely unique. The thought of him dragging me back to him and beating me after I'd tried to run away on my damaged foot made me even wetter as I writhed under the heavy blows from the braided flogger.
"Oh you are turning me on, girl," he said, moving the bedclothes from between us and letting me feel his erection against my sore ass. "I do think I will have to fuck you," he continued when I moaned my pleasure at feeling him. I moaned and wriggled, leaning forward to provide him easier access to do just that.
"Good hole," he murmured, pressing his hard cock against my slippery opening and resting with just the head inside, until I wriggled.
His fingers stroked my aching nipple and I begged. "Nipple hurts," I whimpered.
"Yeah? That's interesting," he said, squeezing it tighter, making me scream. I wriggled back against him again, wanting more cock, so turned on by his control.
"You want more cock?" he asked. "You want this cock to fuck you?"
"Yes, oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I begged.
And he did. He slid inside, pulling me to him by squeezing my breasts. My ass burned where he'd beaten it, a pleasantly aching reminder when his skin brushed mine. My breasts were still singing joyfully at having been flogged, my nipple screaming in burning agony while he held it tightly, and I loved all of it.
I was so wet. Surely I was wet enough he could fuck my ass. I wanted him to fuck my ass. I wanted to feel completely invaded by him, and I shifted a little to try it.
It wouldn't even go in a little bit. Not even the tiniest, little bit. I groaned my frustration as he resumed fucking my more willing opening.
But later, he went for it himself. He pushed me forward as he fucked me. "You want me to fuck your ass, slave?" he asked. "You want your master to invade you? Would that make you feel more used?"
"Oh my God, yes," I responded, panting, insane with the want of that.
He lubed my ass while he fucked my pussy, making me groan and whimper at the fullness of his finger in my backside.
And then his cock was aimed at the opening that had already rejected him once, but this was his decision and it was going in. As the head made it through I screamed, groaned, and bucked. So intense. Too intense. Couldn't handle it. My body tried to get away even as my brain relished the overload.
"Not going anywhere, fuck hole," he informed me, gripping my hair in one hand, my hip in the other, and pushing steadily onward - but slowly enough I felt properly invaded, not ripped open. It was delicious. "Going to fuck your ass now," he said, and he did.
His hand went back to my nipple, tortured me there a bit while he moved, and then moved between my legs. "Give me that pussy," he growled into my ear, and I opened my legs for him to touch me there, whimpering as his fingers contacted my sensitive clitoris. His cock never stopped moving in my ass, never stopped feeling amazing, as his fingers began to work their magic on my other bits. His thumb was on my clit and he sank some unknown (to me) number of fingers inside my pussy.
"Oh my God, too much, I can't," I groaned as he overloaded my brain with sensation and my body with fullness.
"Too much?" he asked. "No such thing. This is what you're for. You're for your master to fuck and to fill as much as he wants. Isn't that right?"
Oh God, I thought, you're right, I'm for you to fuck.
All that could make it out through my groans was "Yes sir,"
"Your ass makes such a good fuck hole," he growled as his fingers moved in my pussy. My ass clenched on him.
Oh. And I wanted to say You like fucking my good fuck hole? but the thought of saying it was too much and I started to tremble there, impaled on his various parts.
"Oooh," he said, knowing an impending orgasm when he feels one. "My girl is going to come for me while I fuck her ass, isn't she?"
"uhhhh-huh," I groaned, tremors racing over my body.
"Go on then, fuck hole, come while I fuck your ass," he growled, and the thought of it was too much, with his fingers moving inside me, against my clit, his cock in my ass. I came screaming and wishing I could say the things in my head that were contributing to making me come.
The orgasm lasted a long time - he drew it out on purpose with his fingers, his cock, and his voice. When my body was finally limp and relaxed, he pushed against me again. "Not done with you, fuck slave," he said. "You're going to come with my cock fucking your ass again."
It's not hard for him, once he's gotten me there once, to drive me there over and over to the point of exhaustion. So that's what he did this time, finally culminating with his own orgasm.
"You want me to come in your ass, slave? You want your master to fill you up? You want to feel well-used?"
"Oh, fuck, yes," I whispered, hoarse from screaming my own pleasure, still seriously enjoying the sensations of his cock and his hand moving on my sensitive parts.
He groaned his own release into my ear, pulling me tightly to him.
As I stretched in his embrace, practically purring as my faculties of speech came back to me, I said "It's strange that you have to treat me like an object to make me feel like a person again."
He stroked my hair. "Maybe I treat you how you want to be treated, and that acknowledges your wants and desires and makes you feel like a person."
He's a smart man.
And hella sexy.
We went hiking, and I sprained the hell out of my ankle after nearly 4.5 miles on the trail. Thankfully it was a loop, and we were almost finished, so the ranger station was close. My love fetched a ranger to help us.
But now I am injured, and one of my deepest, darkest, most frightening and, yes, most exciting fantasies is to be used while being genuinely injured. The fear of possibly being hurt more, the true helplessness, it all blends together beautifully in my brain. I have a swollen, aching foot and the opposite knee is a mass of bruised tissue that hurts really badly as well.
It's been exhausting, relying on my arms, my good knee, and my good foot to get around. My brilliant, loving, sexy husband has been amazing - helpful and solicitous. He's let me give him blow jobs, and he's touched me, brought me to orgasm with his fingers, but he's been terrified of hurting me further - overwhelming me with gentleness. Which feels lovely and like love and I adore him for it, but I was ready for something a little rougher after a few days.
In the mean time, I had been sinking into the feeling of uselessness that comes with not being able to do much. I began to feel more and more like a useless lump of humanity.
I told him. I steeled myself for his shock or disgust, but I should know by now it's hard to faze this man. Even so, revealing these little hidden bits of myself feels terrifying. I told him that my injuries turned me on, made me feel actually, truly helpless. Not like I could get up and run away or anything.
And my man. My wonderful, open-minded, beautiful man who apparently would in actual fact do anything to make me happy, he responded by turning into an evil sadist bastard and beating me, just like I'd asked. He started once we were in bed and he was holding me, long enough after the conversation that I was a little surprised when he went for my ass.
My ass already hurt from sitting on it way too much with my foot up to keep the swelling down, but he didn't care as his hand smacked into my backside. I squealed, I stretched, I squirmed, but I couldn't even kick my injured foot out, couldn't stretch and push away from him with it. Couldn't bash my bruised knee into his leg. I couldn't do much of anything except accept it, cry out, process the pain.
Oh, how I processed the pain. It was brutal but it was teetering on the edge of orgasmic. My brain really, really processed it. It took that pain and wrung every morsel of feeling out of it, through the entire gamut from true discomfort to bliss. He wasn't holding back either, or if he was I couldn't tell. It hurt, and it felt incredible, all at once.
I carefully turned onto my other side, my back toward him, and he had an even better swing now, even more force into my backside. He brought a flogger into play then, smacking the heavy rope strands into my back, my ass, the backs of my legs. It felt incredibly heavy, nearly unbearable, and my body writhed. My foot wanted to push against the mattress, to stretch and to fight, but I had to keep it still or suffer even more.
"You can't get away from me," he growled into my ear, his free hand tangling into and tugging on my hair, "and I think I will fuck you tonight."
I whimpered in response, feeling my body respond, swell, lubricate for the fucking he was promising. But not yet.
My arms were over my head to protect my face and neck from any stray strands of the flogger, and he was taking a break, dragging the soft trailing nylon ends against my skin, making me purr. And then he targeted my breasts - a heavy smack of the heavy rope into my nipple. A knot caught me right on center and the breath whooshed out of me.
"Oh fuck," I breathed out, stretching as much as I could, thrusting my chest forward for more. Holy shit, that was incredible. I can't remember the last time he'd flogged my breasts and my breast was singing a hallelujah chorus of delight while my nipple simultaneously screamed in pain.
"Oh, I think you like that," he growled as he did it again, and again, and again. I screamed for the joy of it, for the pain of it when a knot would catch my nipple again, about every third strike.
"Don't even think of trying to get away," he said, trading the flogger for a braided version that terrifies me when he uses it on my ass. The nylon braids stroked my screaming nipple, made me gasp and whimper. "Writhe for me, girl, writhe. Good fuck toy," he whispered into my ear, swinging the braids down hard against my breast. "If you try to get away, I'll just have to drag you back and beat you more. Can you imagine how much that would hurt?"
I nodded, whimpering with a kind of aroused fear that is completely unique. The thought of him dragging me back to him and beating me after I'd tried to run away on my damaged foot made me even wetter as I writhed under the heavy blows from the braided flogger.
"Oh you are turning me on, girl," he said, moving the bedclothes from between us and letting me feel his erection against my sore ass. "I do think I will have to fuck you," he continued when I moaned my pleasure at feeling him. I moaned and wriggled, leaning forward to provide him easier access to do just that.
"Good hole," he murmured, pressing his hard cock against my slippery opening and resting with just the head inside, until I wriggled.
His fingers stroked my aching nipple and I begged. "Nipple hurts," I whimpered.
"Yeah? That's interesting," he said, squeezing it tighter, making me scream. I wriggled back against him again, wanting more cock, so turned on by his control.
"You want more cock?" he asked. "You want this cock to fuck you?"
"Yes, oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I begged.
And he did. He slid inside, pulling me to him by squeezing my breasts. My ass burned where he'd beaten it, a pleasantly aching reminder when his skin brushed mine. My breasts were still singing joyfully at having been flogged, my nipple screaming in burning agony while he held it tightly, and I loved all of it.
I was so wet. Surely I was wet enough he could fuck my ass. I wanted him to fuck my ass. I wanted to feel completely invaded by him, and I shifted a little to try it.
It wouldn't even go in a little bit. Not even the tiniest, little bit. I groaned my frustration as he resumed fucking my more willing opening.
But later, he went for it himself. He pushed me forward as he fucked me. "You want me to fuck your ass, slave?" he asked. "You want your master to invade you? Would that make you feel more used?"
"Oh my God, yes," I responded, panting, insane with the want of that.
He lubed my ass while he fucked my pussy, making me groan and whimper at the fullness of his finger in my backside.
And then his cock was aimed at the opening that had already rejected him once, but this was his decision and it was going in. As the head made it through I screamed, groaned, and bucked. So intense. Too intense. Couldn't handle it. My body tried to get away even as my brain relished the overload.
"Not going anywhere, fuck hole," he informed me, gripping my hair in one hand, my hip in the other, and pushing steadily onward - but slowly enough I felt properly invaded, not ripped open. It was delicious. "Going to fuck your ass now," he said, and he did.
His hand went back to my nipple, tortured me there a bit while he moved, and then moved between my legs. "Give me that pussy," he growled into my ear, and I opened my legs for him to touch me there, whimpering as his fingers contacted my sensitive clitoris. His cock never stopped moving in my ass, never stopped feeling amazing, as his fingers began to work their magic on my other bits. His thumb was on my clit and he sank some unknown (to me) number of fingers inside my pussy.
"Oh my God, too much, I can't," I groaned as he overloaded my brain with sensation and my body with fullness.
"Too much?" he asked. "No such thing. This is what you're for. You're for your master to fuck and to fill as much as he wants. Isn't that right?"
Oh God, I thought, you're right, I'm for you to fuck.
All that could make it out through my groans was "Yes sir,"
"Your ass makes such a good fuck hole," he growled as his fingers moved in my pussy. My ass clenched on him.
Oh. And I wanted to say You like fucking my good fuck hole? but the thought of saying it was too much and I started to tremble there, impaled on his various parts.
"Oooh," he said, knowing an impending orgasm when he feels one. "My girl is going to come for me while I fuck her ass, isn't she?"
"uhhhh-huh," I groaned, tremors racing over my body.
"Go on then, fuck hole, come while I fuck your ass," he growled, and the thought of it was too much, with his fingers moving inside me, against my clit, his cock in my ass. I came screaming and wishing I could say the things in my head that were contributing to making me come.
The orgasm lasted a long time - he drew it out on purpose with his fingers, his cock, and his voice. When my body was finally limp and relaxed, he pushed against me again. "Not done with you, fuck slave," he said. "You're going to come with my cock fucking your ass again."
It's not hard for him, once he's gotten me there once, to drive me there over and over to the point of exhaustion. So that's what he did this time, finally culminating with his own orgasm.
"You want me to come in your ass, slave? You want your master to fill you up? You want to feel well-used?"
"Oh, fuck, yes," I whispered, hoarse from screaming my own pleasure, still seriously enjoying the sensations of his cock and his hand moving on my sensitive parts.
He groaned his own release into my ear, pulling me tightly to him.
As I stretched in his embrace, practically purring as my faculties of speech came back to me, I said "It's strange that you have to treat me like an object to make me feel like a person again."
He stroked my hair. "Maybe I treat you how you want to be treated, and that acknowledges your wants and desires and makes you feel like a person."
He's a smart man.
And hella sexy.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Owned
He joins me in bed, and I immediately put my Kindle away and turn toward him, into his embrace. "No one said you had to put that away," he says, sounding amused as his arms wrap around me, his fingertips tracing goosebumps along my bare skin.
"Mmm, I know what's good for me," I answer softly, kissing his chest, peppering his warm skin with my love.
"I know what's good for me, and it's here in my arms," he says. Smoothness, rolling off his tongue like honey. I purr, and before the sound even finishes coming out of my throat, he's got my nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard. Harder, harder, and I'm squealing because it's an intense pain. The nipple is still sore from what he did to it the night before. He lets it go, briefly, rubs his palm across it and then grabs it between his fingers again, pulling up on it. I scream as quietly as I can manage.
"Mmm, I know what's good for me," I answer softly, kissing his chest, peppering his warm skin with my love.
"I know what's good for me, and it's here in my arms," he says. Smoothness, rolling off his tongue like honey. I purr, and before the sound even finishes coming out of my throat, he's got my nipple between his fingers, pinching it hard. Harder, harder, and I'm squealing because it's an intense pain. The nipple is still sore from what he did to it the night before. He lets it go, briefly, rubs his palm across it and then grabs it between his fingers again, pulling up on it. I scream as quietly as I can manage.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Say thank you
12:45 AM. What the hell? How? A chat with a good friend, a project to complete, lots of wonderful emails to respond to, and a bath. That's how. Time just flies away when you're mixing work and pleasure so very thoroughly.
Climbing into bed with my husband, I was a little put-out. Just a little. He'd coaxed me out of bed in the late morning with an implication we would go back to bed in the afternoon, and it hadn't happened. "In the interest of open communication," I told him as I cleaned up the bathroom vanity and then climbed in next to him, "when you coax a girl out of bed with promises of going to bed later, not going to bed later is going to lead to a discontented girl."
I wouldn't have even been put out if it was earlier, and of course the lateness of the hour was not entirely his fault, although he did nothing to stop my mad typing in the late evening. He is meant to be the one making the command decisions.
He drew me close to him, spooning me with his arm draped around me, and I started playing a game on my Kindle Fire. No tech in the bedroom has been suffering due to my cold - so I just started playing. Fruit Ninja. I assumed he would go to sleep. He didn't. His hand started to slowly, slowly squeeze a nipple until I was gasping in pain, and then he moved to the other one.
"What are you doing?" I squeaked, as he squeezed it hard and moved back to the first one.
"Playing with you," he said blithely, alternating slow painful squeezes with hard, sharp, twisting ones as he moved between my nipples. I was still trying to play. "I bet it makes it hard to slice fruit," he observed as I gasped. Eventually I let the Kindle drop to the bed and I gave myself to the sensations he was causing. God, I love when he hurts my nipples. I raised my arm over my head to provide better targets, breathing through it as he slowly, slowly, slowly squeezed. Through pleasure and into pain that was just a more intense pleasure and I was panting. I could feel myself getting wet just from this.
His hand moved and he slapped my ass, hard. Oh, that's been a while. Pain, spanking, oh, fuck, yes. Who cares how late it is? I rolled over enough to offer my ass up for more, and he gave it. He was landing hard smacks that resonated deep into my being, making me groan because they were so delicious and shook my very bones. "Good girl," he said, and tugged on my shoulder to pull me back onto my side, so he could access my nipples again. He alternated between smacking my ass and slowly pinching my nipple then, until I was groaning near-constantly, my breath coming in short sharp pants.
He pulled me onto my back and then he was smacking me right on my nipples, back and forth between them. "Oh my God," I cried out, far too loudly, arching up into his smacks. Oh, so good. So fucking good.
He yanked my legs apart and then he was smacking me on my inner thighs.
It's been weeks since I've been hit anywhere but on the nipples, and I was super-sensitive to it all, the thighs most of all. I cried out. "Oh my God, that hurts, that hurts, it's sensitive," I panted as I struggled to keep my legs open.
"Is my girl sensitive?" he asked mockingly, knowing that I was, not caring, knowing that it turned me on like a faucet. "Does it hurt when I hit you here?" he asked, slapping my right inner thigh several times.
"God, yes," I squealed.
"And here?" he switched to the other leg, slapping even harder.
"Oh, fuck, yes, hurts," I begged.
"And here?" he asked, centering the blows, right on my pussy. He wasn't slapping nearly as hard, but was doing it faster.
"No no no no no," I panted with each fast strike, and with each "no," he increased the force behind the next blow.
"No no no no no," I said, and then he hit the pain point and it did hurt. "Yes yes yes," I was squealing, squirming, as he continued his rapid-fire assault on my genitals.
When he stopped, his fingers gently explored and found me soaking wet. "Ooooooooooh, what have we here?" he asked, his finger slipping inside and making me groan. "Does the fuck toy like to be played with? Does the fuck toy like to be used?"
"Yes sir," I whispered, arching into his touch.
"Good girl," he said. "Let's see what else you might like."
He climbed up over me, pulled off his shirt in front of me, and put his cock in front of my face, just out of reach of my mouth. I was panting. I am still stuffy and can't breathe well, so most of my breathing is through my mouth, but this was beyond just mouth-breathing. He was straddling my body, so I couldn't bend at the waist to lift up and take his cock in my mouth.
He rubbed it against my cheek, over my open lips. I licked it as it passed, groaning.
"You like that cock?" he asked roughly, already knowing the answer.
I moaned in response, lifting my head as best I could to lick it. He rubbed it against my other cheek, and humped against my face as if he was fucking it, just not quite letting his cock in my mouth. I groaned, and then he was pushing into my mouth, pressing his cock in as I moaned, pushing it in as far as he dared considering my sore throat. He pulled away for me to cough and breathe, and then he pushed in again, fucking my face slowly until I had to breathe, then giving me a moment for air again.
I can't quite put into words how hot it was for me that he was fucking my access to air, and he knew it.
He pressed in so deeply he was almost in my throat, pinning my head to the pillow, and I couldn't breathe. I could feel myself becoming wetter and wetter, and then he pulled away for me to cough, to haul in lungfuls of air.
"Poor fuck toy. You like sucking cock?"
I nodded desperately, as he rubbed his saliva-slick cock against my cheek while I panted for air.
"It's one of your favorite things, isn't it?" he said, shoving his cock back into my mouth.
I sucked, nodding slightly.
"I know. One day, you'll be able to have your face fucked without needing to cough, without needing to breathe. Won't that be nice?"
"Uh-huh," I grunted, as he pulled his cock away again for me to breathe.
He slid down my body then, and unceremoniously started to sink his hardness into my soaking wet pussy. I grunted as the head penetrated me - it felt enormous and I made a lot of noise.
"Good girl, take it, take me," he said, slowly, slowly pressing more into me. Slowly. So fucking slowly. I was writhing beneath him as he made his way into my body, making a lot of noise. He felt so incredible, stretching my internal walls apart, all the way down, and then he kept driving all the way through me, as if I wasn't there, pinning me thoroughly with his cock. I moved under him, squeezing my muscles around his hardness, relishing the feeling of being full of him. It was good. He pulled away slightly only to drive just as hard back down again, and then he was fucking me in earnest, pausing periodically to pin me down with both his cock and his gaze.
"Good fuck hole." My shuddery moan must have prodded him to keep talking, because he continued in the same vein. "This is what you're for, isn't it? For me to shove my cock into over, and over, and over." He accentuated each "over" with a hard thrust into my body that I gladly met, moaning with pleasure.
"Uh-huh," I agreed, out of my mind as we moved together.
"I give it to you and you just say 'thank you,' isn't that right, fuck toy?"
"Uh-huh," I agreed again, not processing what he was doing, the pleasure nerves that kept firing interfering with my normal brain function.
He drove into me, leaned his face down. One of my ears is dead right now, his lips were near my good ear. "Say thank you," he ordered roughly, his voice rasping along my ear canal all the way into my brain.
"Thank you," I whispered, breathless, and then, as if his command and the following words had unleashed some floodgate holding back my voice, I continued as we fucked. "Thank you, thank you, oh my God, thank you," I babbled, unable to hold it back.
"Good girl," he praised me through my babbling. "Are you thankful for my cock, fuck toy?" He drove it inside me and flexed for emphasis.
"Yes sir, ohmyGod, thank you." I was overwhelmed. I kept periodically babbling "Thank you, thank you," when he felt particularly amazing, his body moving against me. His hands grabbed my legs, pulled them up higher as he fucked down into me, and my eyes were rolling, open, closed, open. They caught his gaze once.
"That's right, fuck hole, look at me," he said. I did, as long as I could.
"Oh my God," I murmured, as his eyes burned heat into my soul and I couldn't stand it anymore - the pleasure was too great and my head rolled back, tossing as he kept fucking me. My hands roamed his back, pulling his hips into me hard when he allowed it. Sometimes he pulled away, lifting himself higher to slam into me with more force, but mostly he let me pull him close, our bodies merged and moving together.
His climax approached slowly, intensely. He was groaning for long moments as he came, as the pleasure washed over him. I glanced up at his face - if there ever was an image of bliss, it was his face at that moment.
Before he slid his fingers inside me and made me scream with pleasure over and over, as we lay tangled together, he whispered, breathlessly, "You forgive me for this afternoon?"
I laughed, loudly.
"No, that's not what this was about," he assured me, as he let his fingers take over the pleasure they had initiated so long ago.
Climbing into bed with my husband, I was a little put-out. Just a little. He'd coaxed me out of bed in the late morning with an implication we would go back to bed in the afternoon, and it hadn't happened. "In the interest of open communication," I told him as I cleaned up the bathroom vanity and then climbed in next to him, "when you coax a girl out of bed with promises of going to bed later, not going to bed later is going to lead to a discontented girl."
I wouldn't have even been put out if it was earlier, and of course the lateness of the hour was not entirely his fault, although he did nothing to stop my mad typing in the late evening. He is meant to be the one making the command decisions.
He drew me close to him, spooning me with his arm draped around me, and I started playing a game on my Kindle Fire. No tech in the bedroom has been suffering due to my cold - so I just started playing. Fruit Ninja. I assumed he would go to sleep. He didn't. His hand started to slowly, slowly squeeze a nipple until I was gasping in pain, and then he moved to the other one.
"What are you doing?" I squeaked, as he squeezed it hard and moved back to the first one.
"Playing with you," he said blithely, alternating slow painful squeezes with hard, sharp, twisting ones as he moved between my nipples. I was still trying to play. "I bet it makes it hard to slice fruit," he observed as I gasped. Eventually I let the Kindle drop to the bed and I gave myself to the sensations he was causing. God, I love when he hurts my nipples. I raised my arm over my head to provide better targets, breathing through it as he slowly, slowly, slowly squeezed. Through pleasure and into pain that was just a more intense pleasure and I was panting. I could feel myself getting wet just from this.
His hand moved and he slapped my ass, hard. Oh, that's been a while. Pain, spanking, oh, fuck, yes. Who cares how late it is? I rolled over enough to offer my ass up for more, and he gave it. He was landing hard smacks that resonated deep into my being, making me groan because they were so delicious and shook my very bones. "Good girl," he said, and tugged on my shoulder to pull me back onto my side, so he could access my nipples again. He alternated between smacking my ass and slowly pinching my nipple then, until I was groaning near-constantly, my breath coming in short sharp pants.
He pulled me onto my back and then he was smacking me right on my nipples, back and forth between them. "Oh my God," I cried out, far too loudly, arching up into his smacks. Oh, so good. So fucking good.
He yanked my legs apart and then he was smacking me on my inner thighs.
It's been weeks since I've been hit anywhere but on the nipples, and I was super-sensitive to it all, the thighs most of all. I cried out. "Oh my God, that hurts, that hurts, it's sensitive," I panted as I struggled to keep my legs open.
"Is my girl sensitive?" he asked mockingly, knowing that I was, not caring, knowing that it turned me on like a faucet. "Does it hurt when I hit you here?" he asked, slapping my right inner thigh several times.
"God, yes," I squealed.
"And here?" he switched to the other leg, slapping even harder.
"Oh, fuck, yes, hurts," I begged.
"And here?" he asked, centering the blows, right on my pussy. He wasn't slapping nearly as hard, but was doing it faster.
"No no no no no," I panted with each fast strike, and with each "no," he increased the force behind the next blow.
"No no no no no," I said, and then he hit the pain point and it did hurt. "Yes yes yes," I was squealing, squirming, as he continued his rapid-fire assault on my genitals.
When he stopped, his fingers gently explored and found me soaking wet. "Ooooooooooh, what have we here?" he asked, his finger slipping inside and making me groan. "Does the fuck toy like to be played with? Does the fuck toy like to be used?"
"Yes sir," I whispered, arching into his touch.
"Good girl," he said. "Let's see what else you might like."
He climbed up over me, pulled off his shirt in front of me, and put his cock in front of my face, just out of reach of my mouth. I was panting. I am still stuffy and can't breathe well, so most of my breathing is through my mouth, but this was beyond just mouth-breathing. He was straddling my body, so I couldn't bend at the waist to lift up and take his cock in my mouth.
He rubbed it against my cheek, over my open lips. I licked it as it passed, groaning.
"You like that cock?" he asked roughly, already knowing the answer.
I moaned in response, lifting my head as best I could to lick it. He rubbed it against my other cheek, and humped against my face as if he was fucking it, just not quite letting his cock in my mouth. I groaned, and then he was pushing into my mouth, pressing his cock in as I moaned, pushing it in as far as he dared considering my sore throat. He pulled away for me to cough and breathe, and then he pushed in again, fucking my face slowly until I had to breathe, then giving me a moment for air again.
I can't quite put into words how hot it was for me that he was fucking my access to air, and he knew it.
He pressed in so deeply he was almost in my throat, pinning my head to the pillow, and I couldn't breathe. I could feel myself becoming wetter and wetter, and then he pulled away for me to cough, to haul in lungfuls of air.
"Poor fuck toy. You like sucking cock?"
I nodded desperately, as he rubbed his saliva-slick cock against my cheek while I panted for air.
"It's one of your favorite things, isn't it?" he said, shoving his cock back into my mouth.
I sucked, nodding slightly.
"I know. One day, you'll be able to have your face fucked without needing to cough, without needing to breathe. Won't that be nice?"
"Uh-huh," I grunted, as he pulled his cock away again for me to breathe.
He slid down my body then, and unceremoniously started to sink his hardness into my soaking wet pussy. I grunted as the head penetrated me - it felt enormous and I made a lot of noise.
"Good girl, take it, take me," he said, slowly, slowly pressing more into me. Slowly. So fucking slowly. I was writhing beneath him as he made his way into my body, making a lot of noise. He felt so incredible, stretching my internal walls apart, all the way down, and then he kept driving all the way through me, as if I wasn't there, pinning me thoroughly with his cock. I moved under him, squeezing my muscles around his hardness, relishing the feeling of being full of him. It was good. He pulled away slightly only to drive just as hard back down again, and then he was fucking me in earnest, pausing periodically to pin me down with both his cock and his gaze.
"Good fuck hole." My shuddery moan must have prodded him to keep talking, because he continued in the same vein. "This is what you're for, isn't it? For me to shove my cock into over, and over, and over." He accentuated each "over" with a hard thrust into my body that I gladly met, moaning with pleasure.
"Uh-huh," I agreed, out of my mind as we moved together.
"I give it to you and you just say 'thank you,' isn't that right, fuck toy?"
"Uh-huh," I agreed again, not processing what he was doing, the pleasure nerves that kept firing interfering with my normal brain function.
He drove into me, leaned his face down. One of my ears is dead right now, his lips were near my good ear. "Say thank you," he ordered roughly, his voice rasping along my ear canal all the way into my brain.
"Thank you," I whispered, breathless, and then, as if his command and the following words had unleashed some floodgate holding back my voice, I continued as we fucked. "Thank you, thank you, oh my God, thank you," I babbled, unable to hold it back.
"Good girl," he praised me through my babbling. "Are you thankful for my cock, fuck toy?" He drove it inside me and flexed for emphasis.
"Yes sir, ohmyGod, thank you." I was overwhelmed. I kept periodically babbling "Thank you, thank you," when he felt particularly amazing, his body moving against me. His hands grabbed my legs, pulled them up higher as he fucked down into me, and my eyes were rolling, open, closed, open. They caught his gaze once.
"That's right, fuck hole, look at me," he said. I did, as long as I could.
"Oh my God," I murmured, as his eyes burned heat into my soul and I couldn't stand it anymore - the pleasure was too great and my head rolled back, tossing as he kept fucking me. My hands roamed his back, pulling his hips into me hard when he allowed it. Sometimes he pulled away, lifting himself higher to slam into me with more force, but mostly he let me pull him close, our bodies merged and moving together.
His climax approached slowly, intensely. He was groaning for long moments as he came, as the pleasure washed over him. I glanced up at his face - if there ever was an image of bliss, it was his face at that moment.
Before he slid his fingers inside me and made me scream with pleasure over and over, as we lay tangled together, he whispered, breathlessly, "You forgive me for this afternoon?"
I laughed, loudly.
"No, that's not what this was about," he assured me, as he let his fingers take over the pleasure they had initiated so long ago.
"Sometimes I just ignore these things and pretend they don't exist.
Unless we have special Thanksgiving-themed sex or something. Which would be hilarious
and I'm about to burst into laughter thinking about it."
Turns out, it's not so funny. It's actually insanely hot.
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..."
Oooh.
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.
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..."
Oooh.
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.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Saturday, April 14, 2012
It was beautiful
I started writing this post back in December, just notes and quotes to fill in later, but as I wrote, I felt the urge to describe, and then we went on our long vacation over the holidays. By the time I had time to look at it, I'd forgotten the details I meant to fill in, and there's no ending because I didn't take notes for it. Yeah, sloppy habit. Even some of the descriptive writing is just barebones notes, in this case.
I thought my readers could enjoy it as-is, anyway.
Idea shamelessly stolen from Liza.
December 11, 2011
He held me tightly in his arms, we were spooned and his lips were near my ear.
"You like it when I do lots of different things to you, don't you?"
"Yes.."
"How do I go about starting? Maybe I just... do them?"
"All at once?"
"That'd be a neat trick, eh?"
"You could start a circus act."
We bantered. His hand slowly, deliberately, crept into my hair and he pulled a handful of it by squeezing. I gasped in mid-sentence, falling silent.
"You like when I pull your hair, don't you?"
"Mmhmm."
"Even if we're in the middle of a conversation."
"Anytime you want."
He squeezed his handful a few more times, my place in this interaction solidifying to me with each tug. My banter was replaced with small whimpers. He hit my ass, hard. My breath whooshed out of me. "Looks like you're getting a beating first." He slammed his open palm against my flesh several more times. "Do you like this?"
"Yes," I whispered in between gasps.
"But there's more. I can do more than just beat you." He opened the nightstand drawer, retrieved something. "I can also flog you." He slapped the flogger against my ass and hip and I squealed. "You like this too, don't you? I thought so."
He started pulling my shirt off. "Take this off!" he barked.
"But it's coooolld," I whined protestingly.
"I have love to keep you warm," he assured me as he shoved it off of me.
His hand slowly crept up to my breast, and he cupped it gingerly. "You know what's next, don't you?"
I whimpered.
"Oh, you don't know, but you can imagine. I could pinch your nipple," he said menacingly as he rolled it, "do you like having your nipples pinched?"
"Nuh-uh," I lied.
"Oh, that's too bad," he responded as he pinched my nipple firmly, tugging on it a little, generating a nice distressed noise from me. He pulled me onto my back, slapped my breast hard, making it bounce around on my chest. "You like that?" he asked as he hit me again.
"Oh yessss.." I hissed.
He rained several more blows onto my breasts with his hand, then tugged my nipples again. He brought up the flogger and flogged me there too. "Can you feel how much you turn me on?" he asked, pressing his cock against me and putting down the flogger. I could. "Why do you think I get so turned on by doing these things to you? Do you think I like the power I have over you?" He grabbed my wrist and squeezed. "Or maybe I like to hear your reactions." He tugged a handful of my hair and I moaned. "Or maybe I like knowing how much it turns you on." He tugged on my nipples some more. "It could be all of those things.."
His hand slid down under the blankets to my thigh and he hit me there, over and over, covering the entire length of my inner thigh in burning tingles. "It hurts," I whimpered.
"Oh I know. You're sensitive here, aren't you? I'm not a very nice man, am I?" He let his fingers glide across the sensitive skin. He treated the other thigh to the same abuse, then brushed his fingertips gently along my pussy. "I bet you're really sensitive here. I'd be a really bad man if I hit you here, wouldn't I?" His hand hovered over me, just brushing against the curly hairs there, tension building. He pulled back slightly and I tensed more, but he returned just to pet me gently. I exhaled and then he drew his hand back and hit my pussy once, hard. "Looks like I'm a really bad man," he whispered into my ear as I squirmed, a cry of pain escaping me.
I bit my lip and nodded. "Mmhmm," I managed through the heat washing over me.
Sorry to be a tease, but that's all there is! We did continue, but the details are lost to the ravages of time.
I thought my readers could enjoy it as-is, anyway.
Idea shamelessly stolen from Liza.
December 11, 2011
He held me tightly in his arms, we were spooned and his lips were near my ear.
"You like it when I do lots of different things to you, don't you?"
"Yes.."
"How do I go about starting? Maybe I just... do them?"
"All at once?"
"That'd be a neat trick, eh?"
"You could start a circus act."
We bantered. His hand slowly, deliberately, crept into my hair and he pulled a handful of it by squeezing. I gasped in mid-sentence, falling silent.
"You like when I pull your hair, don't you?"
"Mmhmm."
"Even if we're in the middle of a conversation."
"Anytime you want."
He squeezed his handful a few more times, my place in this interaction solidifying to me with each tug. My banter was replaced with small whimpers. He hit my ass, hard. My breath whooshed out of me. "Looks like you're getting a beating first." He slammed his open palm against my flesh several more times. "Do you like this?"
"Yes," I whispered in between gasps.
"But there's more. I can do more than just beat you." He opened the nightstand drawer, retrieved something. "I can also flog you." He slapped the flogger against my ass and hip and I squealed. "You like this too, don't you? I thought so."
He started pulling my shirt off. "Take this off!" he barked.
"But it's coooolld," I whined protestingly.
"I have love to keep you warm," he assured me as he shoved it off of me.
His hand slowly crept up to my breast, and he cupped it gingerly. "You know what's next, don't you?"
I whimpered.
"Oh, you don't know, but you can imagine. I could pinch your nipple," he said menacingly as he rolled it, "do you like having your nipples pinched?"
"Nuh-uh," I lied.
"Oh, that's too bad," he responded as he pinched my nipple firmly, tugging on it a little, generating a nice distressed noise from me. He pulled me onto my back, slapped my breast hard, making it bounce around on my chest. "You like that?" he asked as he hit me again.
"Oh yessss.." I hissed.
He rained several more blows onto my breasts with his hand, then tugged my nipples again. He brought up the flogger and flogged me there too. "Can you feel how much you turn me on?" he asked, pressing his cock against me and putting down the flogger. I could. "Why do you think I get so turned on by doing these things to you? Do you think I like the power I have over you?" He grabbed my wrist and squeezed. "Or maybe I like to hear your reactions." He tugged a handful of my hair and I moaned. "Or maybe I like knowing how much it turns you on." He tugged on my nipples some more. "It could be all of those things.."
His hand slid down under the blankets to my thigh and he hit me there, over and over, covering the entire length of my inner thigh in burning tingles. "It hurts," I whimpered.
"Oh I know. You're sensitive here, aren't you? I'm not a very nice man, am I?" He let his fingers glide across the sensitive skin. He treated the other thigh to the same abuse, then brushed his fingertips gently along my pussy. "I bet you're really sensitive here. I'd be a really bad man if I hit you here, wouldn't I?" His hand hovered over me, just brushing against the curly hairs there, tension building. He pulled back slightly and I tensed more, but he returned just to pet me gently. I exhaled and then he drew his hand back and hit my pussy once, hard. "Looks like I'm a really bad man," he whispered into my ear as I squirmed, a cry of pain escaping me.
I bit my lip and nodded. "Mmhmm," I managed through the heat washing over me.
Sorry to be a tease, but that's all there is! We did continue, but the details are lost to the ravages of time.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
From bad heat to amazing heat
I wasn't feeling well - overheated from my bath, I believe. I lay on top of our blankets, my head toward one corner of the foot of the bed, and my feet toward the opposite corner at the head, so to better feel the fan on my body. My husband joined me, but he's not a fan of putting his head near the foot of the bed, and so his head was near my feet. He rested his leg across my chest, pinning me there, and I stroked his calf and thigh while he rubbed my legs. It was nice, soft, loving. I purred as I lavished attention on his legs, enjoying the feel of confinement having his leg across me was producing. His hands wandered up between my legs and his fingertips stroked along my pussy, just barely touching me. I could feel his cock growing hard where it was pressed against my side.
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