In a different world

Monday was interesting. I couldn't stop being horny, all day. I longed to just get my husband home and take him to bed, to feel him touching me, filling up all the empty spaces within me. I told him as much too.

When we got him home from work we spent some time snuggling and making out like teenagers, kissing, kissing, endlessly kissing. It was glorious.

I went to take a bath after dinner, and afterward the intensity of my need was dampened quite a bit. That's not to say I wasn't still up for sex, but I wasn't raring to go.

He was writing some code after we put the little one to bed, and I went into our room and started making practice monkey fists for a new flogger. He followed me soon after, sat on the bed and talked to me, eventually convincing me to to stop making monkey fists and "have monkey sex."

I cleared away the ropes from the bed and lay down, facing away from him.

"Take off your clothes," he said.



I sighed and did as he requested, lying back down afterward, never actually looking at him. He lit candles and turned off the light, which actually instantly improved my mood.

"I hear all day about how horny you are and I can't do anything about it. And now when I can do something about it, you're not horny anymore?" He traced his fingertips along the line of my arm as he spoke, then snaked his arm around me and pulled me closer.

I laughed a little and shook my head.

"You probably don't even want sex now, huh?" he asked, his fingers exploring my nipples, making me sigh with pleasure.

I laughed again at the ridiculousness of that concept. "Is that what you think?"

"No, that's not what I think." His hand rubbed, squeezed, and stroked my breasts, and I moaned repeatedly as he manipulated the sensitive flesh. His lips were right above my ear, now, and his whispered words rasped directly into me. "That's not what I think because I know how you work. I know what you are."

I turned my head more toward him, to feel the words as they vibrated into my ear canal. A little whimper of expectation escaped me. "You're a fuck toy," he finished his thought, squeezing my breast in his hand as I moaned. He had named me and I was vanquished; any residual resistance I may have had to him melted away.

And then he completely overwhelmed me because he started slapping my breasts, rubbing, pinching my nipples, and talking. "You're a toy for my pleasure, isn't that right?" he asked, his hand slapping my breasts.

"Yes sir," I squealed as I slowly moved my shoulders - back when he hit me, forward again to beg for more.

"I could put you up somewhere for people to look at if I wanted, maybe on a pedestal, would you like that?" The soft slap slap of his hand against my breasts provided the background noise.

"No," I groaned particularly loudly as he tugged on my nipple before resuming his slapping.

"No? I could have you up there, and I could tell people 'this is the girl I fucked a lot. If I wanted I could take her down from there right now and she'd let me fuck her. Or I could have her bend over and she'd let me spank her.' And you wouldn't like that?"

"Oh my God, no," I moaned.

"I see, you'd prefer to be in a private cage, wouldn't you?"

Cages were one of my earliest fantasies. I once saw a soap where a woman built an entire cage in her basement to keep the man she wanted - iron bars and all. It gave me the tingles, though not the way it was carried out in that soap. The words "private cage" rang in my ears as he kept slowly slapping my breasts, making sure each blow was followed by a bit of rubbing, and I whined. "Oh, God, yes sir," I whispered.

"Yeah, that's what you'd like. I could keep you in a cage, and I'd come home after spending all day at work and let you out. 'Hey, you,' I'd say, 'suck my cock,' and you'd come crawling over to me and you'd do it. Wouldn't you?"

His very hard cock pressed against my backside as he wove the fantasy, and I groaned, rubbing against it with each slap of his hand on my breasts. I whined softly. "Yes sir."

"Of course, keeping you in a cage would mean I couldn't just fuck you any time I wanted. Maybe for that I'd get you a leash." I moaned at the suggestion. "Yeah, a leash would keep you close to me and I could fuck you whenever I wanted." He paused while that sank into me, waited for my soft noises of exposure to fade so he could speak again.

"I think in a different world, you wouldn't mind so much letting everyone know that you're mine. Am I right?"

"Yes sir." My body kept moving, his voice kept pouring into my ear, his cock prodded against me, his hand stroked and slapped. I groaned, lots of deep, soul-baring groans.

"You'd like for people to look at you and just know: this is the mouth your Master fucks."

"Oh, God." He just kept driving deeper into my psyche and I couldn't say much in response. My body was saying a lot, though. I was wet and aching to be touched, slapped, kissed. It didn't matter; anything he wanted.

"Your mouth is a fuck hole, isn't that right? You'd want people to know that, yes, your mouth can be used for talking, your master lets you talk, isn't he a good master? But its main purpose is to be fucked."

"Oh, fuck, yes." I writhed.

"You'd tell them 'He can fuck me anytime he wants, anywhere he wants,' isn't that right?" His hands were exploring now, they spent some time spanking my breasts, some time stroking my body. His fingers traced my open mouth as the moans came out of it, and he dragged his fingertips through my wetness as he kept talking.

"What a wet fuckhole," he commented, "maybe I'll just fuck it now." I felt him move away briefly, and then he was on top of me, pressing his cock against my pussy.

"Oh my God," I said as he pressed it against me. "Want you."

"I know you do. Take me," he said as he slid slowly inside me, filling me up, pressing me down.

He kept talking even then, even as he thrust his cock deliberately into my wet pussy. "I think you wouldn't mind the cage either, in this other world," he continued. "I could push you up against the cold, metal bars, maybe cuff you to them," he paused while I absorbed that, moaning, writhing, impaled by his cock, "and fuck you from behind."

"Oh, God, like a bitch," I whispered heatedly, the words barely escaping as my throat constricted, trying to claim them back.

"Just like a bitch," he agreed, pressing into me hard, fucking straight through me into the bed beneath me, making me pant and scream. "I'd have to go places sometimes, too," he said, "and I'd have to just tie your leash to something and leave you there."

"Oh, God, and I'd just have to wait for you," I whispered, my eyes fixed on a point somewhere past his shoulder, the images he'd put into my head playing there.

"Mmm, that's right, toy, you'd just have to wait for me, thinking about what I'd do when I got back. Of course, I couldn't leave you too long, could I? You'd get all hot thinking about me and I can't have a bunch of other men attracted by a bitch in heat."

I groaned loudly, twisting beneath him, desperate to get away from the images playing out in my head, but he wouldn't let me. "Not that I don't trust you, but those other men, you know."

"Please, please, please," I begged him, tugging up on the shirt he was still wearing. He let me take it off him, and I stroked his bared skin, leaning up into him and kissing all the parts of him I could reach.

We kept moving together, my moans filling the space between us. My eyes were closed, my brain focusing on the sensation of his cock moving within me, of the sounds and the suggestions of his words as they poured over me.

"Look at me, toy," he demanded. I opened my eyes and there he was, his gaze pinning me as surely as his cock did when he drove into me fully. His hand moved to cover and press against my forehead, holding my head still for his eyes to stare into mine as he desired. "There she is. Good girl," he said, as my body arched into him.

"Oh, God," I moaned loudly. He could see into my soul like this, surely, even in the flickering candlelight, and my soul responded wantonly to the things he was saying and doing.

His other hand moved down behind my knee, and at his tug I lifted my leg up, splaying myself open, one leg up by my head and the other down, knee bent outward as he kept thrusting into me. I left my leg there even when his hand wandered off. "Good pussy," he said as he ground into me, "take me, pussy."

His words shook me and my leg dropped, my knee bending outward, my feet pressing against his knees, which soon moved atop the arches of my feet, pinning them to the bed. I groaned and struggled futilely as he kept thrusting into me, my hands stroking along his back and sides.

"You think you could get up on that ramp, fuck toy?" he asked, raising up on his arms, putting more power into his thrusts into my body.

"Oh, God," I whispered, my hands trailing down his chest as my hips rose to meet his thrusts, "I will do anything you want me to."

"Mmm, that's right, you will." He pulled his cock away from me, out of my body, and I made a sad noise at the empty feeling. "But I think I'll fuck your face first." His hips moved up over my body toward my face, and his cock slid between my lips, claiming my mouth for its purpose. I groaned, enjoying the taste of my arousal on his skin, the feel of him filling up my mouth and eventually bumping into the back of my throat.

I love pleasing him like this, with my lips and tongue, my moans and screams absorbed into his flesh. I love that my pussy throbs with jealousy while he fills my mouth, and that my mouth doesn't care. I love that he knew exactly how much my pussy was aching to be filled again, and that he took this time to tease me, to take his own pleasure by using my face instead.

I lifted my head to allow his cock to enter my throat, and held it there, spasming, until I had to pull back to breathe. He pulled back, making me scoot down to take him back in my mouth. He fucked into my face and I was his fuck toy, pleasuring him as best I could, little noises escaping my throat whenever he allowed a gap. He pulled away and teased me, sliding it between my breasts that he squeezed around it before he'd let me take it back in my mouth.

"Time to get up on your ramp, fuck toy," he said after a while, pulling his cock away from my mouth. He stayed atop me, his thighs straddling my chest.

"You're on top of me," I pointed out to him, twisting a bit.

"So I am." He moved, standing up next to the bed, placing the Liberator ramp there for me. I got on it, but facing him. I took his cock in my mouth. "Oh, do you need your face fucked more?" he asked, his hands fisting in my hair and tugging my face more onto him, his cock travelling deeper than our previous position had allowed. I spent a good deal of time rubbing my lips against the smooth shiny head of his cock, looking up at him, before taking it deeply into my mouth, then pulling off with a slow slurping suck and repeating.

I could feel the wetness seeping out of me, my internal muscles clenching. My pussy doesn't have vocal chords but it knows how to complain nevertheless, so when my husband said "Are you ready to have your pussy fucked some more now?" I nodded.

He let my hair go and I climbed onto the ramp on my hands and knees. He grabbed my hips and his cock slid into me, making me groan with the fullness as he began to pump into me in earnest.

His hand slid back into my hair, clutching my head and pulling my hair at the same time, and his other hand slid around my throat, capturing my head between his hands. He pulled my head back, putting just enough pressure on my throat for me to feel it, for me to wheeze as he fucked me. "Oh God, oh, God, ohmyGod," I whispered, continuously.

"Good fuck toy," he said, and he pounded me. I went limp in all the parts that weren't holding me up, and his thrusts into my body set me to rocking. My breasts swayed beneath me and the hair that wasn't being pulled by his hand swished hard enough that it was flogging me in the face. I could hear it whooshing through the air before the ends licked delicately against my features. In these moments everything is perfect. I move when he moves me and there is nothing to do but be his - until I realize it. I start to examine it and then I am thinking and my ability to be a fuck doll is interrupted. I try to think about moving with him and often enough I disrupt the rhythm. This time I let the thoughts go as they occurred and the rhythm remained. He pounded me and my hair swished into my face.

His hands let go of my head and then they were tugging at my nipples, gently at first and then rougher, harder as it went on. "Feels so good," I said, "so good for you to fuck me."

"Of course it does, this is what you're for, isn't it?" he responded. "For me to fuck." He drove his cock in particularly hard as he said that, or maybe it just felt like he did.

"Oh, God, yes sir, I'm for you to fuck," I repeated, and everything that we were doing, everything that he had said, coalesced in that moment in my head, overwhelming me beyond my ability to really contain it. My word dam broke and I was babbling as he rocked into me. "All my fuck holes are for you to fuck, fuck me, fuck me, God, I'm yours."

My arms gave out and I lay with my face and shoulders pressed to the ramp, my ass still up, his cock still sliding into me repeatedly as I babbled, sometimes just moaning loudly, repeatedly. "You tired?" he asked, "You want to lie down with me?" I groaned deeply in response. "Ahh, you just want to lie just like this and let me fuck you, huh?"

My groans and babbles indicated he was right, and so he kept on, his hands stroking my back and ass. "I suppose I could fuck your ass," he mused.

I groaned again. He could. The babbling part of my brain wanted to beg for him to, to impale my helpless ass with his hard cock. Those words played in my head but all I could do was groan, knowing the difficulties I have with anal while holding myself up.

"Get me the lube, fuck toy," he said, sliding his cock into me several more times before he removed himself. I literally dragged myself forward along the bed to get to the drawer, retrieving the lube and slowly crawling back to him. "Did you find it?" he said, as I knelt in front of him, breathing in large shuddery gasps. The act of getting the lube for him and giving it to him so he can bury his cock in my tiny hole, stretch me open, always overwhelms me. I nodded, shuddering hard as I passed it to him. "Poor thing," he said sarcastically, "is it hard for you to move when you're being fucked?"

I nodded. "You ready for me?" he asked, ignoring my trembling, or perhaps delighting in it.

For answer I leaned over farther, presenting him with my backside. His finger gently lubed me, but as it delved deeper inside me something in my head made me lunge away, flattening onto my belly. "Where do you think you're going, fuck hole?" he asked, incredulity seeping into his tone. "Get that ass back up here."

"Oh my God," I moaned as his words sank into my mind, the tone of absolute ownership of my body making me feel just as it was meant to: like a collection of fuck holes for his pleasure. I rose obediently back to my knees, and he pressed his cock into my ass, stretching it. I groaned, first vanquished and now conquered, my body merely a tool for both of our pleasure as my hole expanded to accept his hardness.

He started thrusting and I relaxed enough to adjust, but when my babblebrain took over and started chanting "oh, fuck, yes, fuck my ass, fuck me, I'm yours, yes," and he responded to my words by increasing the power of his thrusts, he was hitting something painful inside me, and I collapsed forward again, half on the ramp, half off it. "Oh, God," I begged as he followed me, "I'm not trying to get away from you."

"Sure you're not, slut," he said. We had to do some adjusting, he pulled away, moved the ramp away, and then plunged back into me.

"Oh my GOD, yes, yes, fuck me, yes," I screamed as his cock filled me up again. In this new position there was no pain even as he drove as deeply as he could into me. "I'm yours to fuck, anywhere you want, anyway you want," I babbled, on and on as he pounded my ass.

My voice was ragged and squealy by the time I heard him start to approach his release, but its raggedness didn't stop me from screaming more. "Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes," I screamed, an unrelenting stream of positive reinforcement for him, unbelievably excited by his taking his ultimate pleasure within my body. He kept slowly pumping me for several minutes afterward, as I panted into the sheets.

He rested atop me, his slim weight comforting on my back, his breathing pretty harsh into my ear. "Love you," he said softly, even that sounding loud with the closeness of his lips and the effects of his exertion.

"Love you," I groaned loudly.

He laughed. "I'm right here, you don't have to shout."

After a few lovely minutes he whispered "Why don't we lie like people?" we were across the bed, our feet hanging off the side of it.

"I don't want to be a person yet," I groaned, still relishing the feel of him.

He laughed again. "We'll just be us," and then, realizing what I meant, "and you can still be my fuck toy."

I shuddered at his words. "Okay," I relented, and we moved, his arm wrapping around me, his fingers sliding between my legs and into my very very wet and jealous pussy. He pressed against my g-spot and I cried out,  not believing how sensitive I was, how good he felt. "Don't know how much of that I can take," I half screamed, half gasped.

"This is a good time to find out," he said, touching me there again, again, again, until my brain melted from the heat, my body shuddering up into his touch, a soft wail emitting from my open mouth.

As I snuggled into his arms afterward, he gave me another order. "Be mine forever," he said softly, stroking my hair.

"Yes, please," I responded. Oh, yes, indeed.