Desire
Take me Sir. i wear your collar and i am Yours.
i ache for your touch. In my mind You are here with your arms around me holding me, Your teeth biting into my shoulder.
i feel the marks You leave. i ache for You to take me further.
Take me Sir. Take me so that tears of blood are mingled with our pleasure, so that i faint with sweet pain into your care.
Naked and vulnerable, i feel You binding me hard, gagging me so i cannot cry out and blindfolding me so that i am anticipatory, edgy and helpless.
Take me Sir.
Spank me so that my arse is red. Cane me gently first then hard. Let me feel Your anger and frustration, let me share Your pain. i know it will be controlled and balanced, i trust in You to use me but not abuse Your ownership. You own me and i beg You use me, though i know my pain will be our pleasure and release. Stripe my arse so were my hands free to move i could feel the ridges.
Take me Sir.
Take me beyond the place where we have stopped in ecstasy before. Take me further. Push me, torment me with your knives, flog me hard so that i weep with pain and joy. i feel You holding me though my body is weightless, my mind numbed.
Take me Sir.
Whip me, let me hear the noise and not be able to flinch through being bound to You. Surprise me, use my body as Your science lab. Torture me until You know release.
Let me cum in Your arms and hold me while we sleep.
Thursday, 10 April 2008
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
A day in the country
she was dressed to his instruction.
Somewhat hesitantly as it was still February. It was cold outside and she knew the whole day would not be spent in the car. A flimsy silk skirt in pinks and black. A pink camisole top and a short angora pink cardigan. fluffy. she felt fluffy. Stockings and a white suspender belt. No knickers. No bra. she wore his collar round her neck and carried his marks on her shoulders with pride. High cream peeptoe sandals. Really not practical for walking in the country…but there you are. she was his and there was nothing she wouldn’t do at his instruction.
she was however, still learning. Still very apprehensive and unsure whether she was doing the right thing, whether her interpretation of his instruction was really what He wanted. And it mattered. she ached for his smile when she got it right. she always knew from the warmth in his eyes and the little twist to his lips.
As she arrived at his house, He was waiting at the gate. she pulled up and He beckoned her out. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her round, shielding her with his own frame. He lifted her skirt and she could feel his eyes burning into her pink naked arse. He spanked her firmly, just once and she felt herself moistening in anticipation.
“Did you enjoy that slut? There will be more for you later”
she opened the car door for him and He got in. she was his driver for the day and that in itself filled her with apprehension. Did He know how shocking her driving was! He directed her onto the motorway and they drove out of London, out of Surrey, way out into the countryside. Then, He instructed her to turn off the motorway and after a series of turns, to pull into a layby.
‘Time to get out my slut’
she slipped out of the car and opened the door on his side. He picked up a small holdall. she hadn’t noticed him carrying it before…he must have slipped it into the car while she was panicking about her dress.
‘Straight ahead my slut’.
she walked ahead of him, feeling him watching her arse…along a semi made-up footpath towards some woodland. As they approached the wood, she could see him looking at the trees. she was panicking. Was she to be tied naked to a tree? Left for strangers to wonder over? Was she to be bound and gagged on the ground? Would He flog her or beat her? she’d never been used in public, never played outdoors. And although she loved the fresh air and was secretly aroused at the idea she might be caught, there was as always a fear of the unknown. But…mixed with the wonderful knowledge that she was in his care and that He would never allow any harm to come to her.
They reached a small clearing and she was instructed to remove her top. From the bag He pulled a mask and blindfolded her quickly. Then He took her by surprise and gagged her – she felt the scarf tightly round her mouth. How helpless she felt in a strange place with no vision and no way of calling out. she felt his arms around her. she felt his mouth marking her shoulders, sweetly excruciating pain that she knew would give her a lasting reminder of this day. she ached. she felt rope binding her arms and corseting her breasts. So tightly that she could hardly breath. So tight that she felt safe and held. Embraced by the roughness. And then when she was all but helpless she was led to face what must have been a tree. she felt his hand hard on her arse, beating her so that she glowed and ached and glowed some more. she ached for the pain He offered her. she ached to be marked by him. she was dripping. His hands spread her legs and He pushed hard into her. Soon she was quivering and close to orgasm, dripping and vulnerable. And yet she could say nothing.
‘Kneel bitch’ He said, and laughed…
He knew that her greatest pleasure was to take him in her mouth.
she knelt obediently and He removed the gag. she felt his cock hard in her mouth and played it with her tongue. Her hands were bound so she had just her lips and mouth and had to work extra hard to pleasure him. But that in itself was erotic. she heard him gasping with pleasure and tried yet harder, till eventually He rewarded her by cumming in her mouth, reminding her of the precious gift she should not spill.
Then He gently unmasked her and untied the rope corsetry so that her breasts, still marked by the rope, stood proud and her nipples erect. He bit hard on the nipples before instructing her to dress. There was just a hint of blood on each nipple, no broken skin but the redness to remind her of his presence for the next few day. And they walked back to the car. A normal couple out for a quiet walk in the country.
‘Were you ever cold my slut?’ He asked…
and she replied honestly that not for one minute had she felt chilly.
‘So another time, trust my instruction’
He spanked her arse so hard that tears came to her eyes. And she knew she was His.
Somewhat hesitantly as it was still February. It was cold outside and she knew the whole day would not be spent in the car. A flimsy silk skirt in pinks and black. A pink camisole top and a short angora pink cardigan. fluffy. she felt fluffy. Stockings and a white suspender belt. No knickers. No bra. she wore his collar round her neck and carried his marks on her shoulders with pride. High cream peeptoe sandals. Really not practical for walking in the country…but there you are. she was his and there was nothing she wouldn’t do at his instruction.
she was however, still learning. Still very apprehensive and unsure whether she was doing the right thing, whether her interpretation of his instruction was really what He wanted. And it mattered. she ached for his smile when she got it right. she always knew from the warmth in his eyes and the little twist to his lips.
As she arrived at his house, He was waiting at the gate. she pulled up and He beckoned her out. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her round, shielding her with his own frame. He lifted her skirt and she could feel his eyes burning into her pink naked arse. He spanked her firmly, just once and she felt herself moistening in anticipation.
“Did you enjoy that slut? There will be more for you later”
she opened the car door for him and He got in. she was his driver for the day and that in itself filled her with apprehension. Did He know how shocking her driving was! He directed her onto the motorway and they drove out of London, out of Surrey, way out into the countryside. Then, He instructed her to turn off the motorway and after a series of turns, to pull into a layby.
‘Time to get out my slut’
she slipped out of the car and opened the door on his side. He picked up a small holdall. she hadn’t noticed him carrying it before…he must have slipped it into the car while she was panicking about her dress.
‘Straight ahead my slut’.
she walked ahead of him, feeling him watching her arse…along a semi made-up footpath towards some woodland. As they approached the wood, she could see him looking at the trees. she was panicking. Was she to be tied naked to a tree? Left for strangers to wonder over? Was she to be bound and gagged on the ground? Would He flog her or beat her? she’d never been used in public, never played outdoors. And although she loved the fresh air and was secretly aroused at the idea she might be caught, there was as always a fear of the unknown. But…mixed with the wonderful knowledge that she was in his care and that He would never allow any harm to come to her.
They reached a small clearing and she was instructed to remove her top. From the bag He pulled a mask and blindfolded her quickly. Then He took her by surprise and gagged her – she felt the scarf tightly round her mouth. How helpless she felt in a strange place with no vision and no way of calling out. she felt his arms around her. she felt his mouth marking her shoulders, sweetly excruciating pain that she knew would give her a lasting reminder of this day. she ached. she felt rope binding her arms and corseting her breasts. So tightly that she could hardly breath. So tight that she felt safe and held. Embraced by the roughness. And then when she was all but helpless she was led to face what must have been a tree. she felt his hand hard on her arse, beating her so that she glowed and ached and glowed some more. she ached for the pain He offered her. she ached to be marked by him. she was dripping. His hands spread her legs and He pushed hard into her. Soon she was quivering and close to orgasm, dripping and vulnerable. And yet she could say nothing.
‘Kneel bitch’ He said, and laughed…
He knew that her greatest pleasure was to take him in her mouth.
she knelt obediently and He removed the gag. she felt his cock hard in her mouth and played it with her tongue. Her hands were bound so she had just her lips and mouth and had to work extra hard to pleasure him. But that in itself was erotic. she heard him gasping with pleasure and tried yet harder, till eventually He rewarded her by cumming in her mouth, reminding her of the precious gift she should not spill.
Then He gently unmasked her and untied the rope corsetry so that her breasts, still marked by the rope, stood proud and her nipples erect. He bit hard on the nipples before instructing her to dress. There was just a hint of blood on each nipple, no broken skin but the redness to remind her of his presence for the next few day. And they walked back to the car. A normal couple out for a quiet walk in the country.
‘Were you ever cold my slut?’ He asked…
and she replied honestly that not for one minute had she felt chilly.
‘So another time, trust my instruction’
He spanked her arse so hard that tears came to her eyes. And she knew she was His.
Phoenix rising
Naked she sits on bare earth
Fine dark soil spilling over her toes
Her fingers tracing patterns anxiously
Watching
A small pile of grey ash
Now shivering slightly as the glowing embers barely
Keep her warm
Time was when she burnt so close to fire
Her skin reddened, she could no longer look to the flames
His Fireplay pushed her to her limits
She ached to cry, to stop, but would not fail him so.
Naked she sits on bare earth
Feeding the soil through her hands, an egg timer,
Choked by his collar to tears she cannot shed
Waiting
Dark clouds cover the sky
Bring unnatural night to day
A whirling, sweeping, flapping noise
A flock of starlings?
A thousand million birds forming and reforming
The embers glow
Fed by churning air
Small flames appear from nowhere
A blaze, a fire
The sky is red with flames
Sunset or sunrise, time is meaningless
Her face is alight, magic dances in the mirror of her eyes
She smiles as she watches
Phoenix rising golden from the ashes
Wings beating sweeping all the ash and dirt away
Wings beating with the rhythm of her heart
Wings beating, breast of burnished gold warming her
Wrapped in His now still wings
Owned.
Fine dark soil spilling over her toes
Her fingers tracing patterns anxiously
Watching
A small pile of grey ash
Now shivering slightly as the glowing embers barely
Keep her warm
Time was when she burnt so close to fire
Her skin reddened, she could no longer look to the flames
His Fireplay pushed her to her limits
She ached to cry, to stop, but would not fail him so.
Naked she sits on bare earth
Feeding the soil through her hands, an egg timer,
Choked by his collar to tears she cannot shed
Waiting
Dark clouds cover the sky
Bring unnatural night to day
A whirling, sweeping, flapping noise
A flock of starlings?
A thousand million birds forming and reforming
The embers glow
Fed by churning air
Small flames appear from nowhere
A blaze, a fire
The sky is red with flames
Sunset or sunrise, time is meaningless
Her face is alight, magic dances in the mirror of her eyes
She smiles as she watches
Phoenix rising golden from the ashes
Wings beating sweeping all the ash and dirt away
Wings beating with the rhythm of her heart
Wings beating, breast of burnished gold warming her
Wrapped in His now still wings
Owned.
Friday, 1 February 2008
Odi et amo
Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.
My arms and legs
A cross.
Tied, held in silent torture,
One handhold glows red and fiery,
The other misted, iced and frozen.
Each foot rests on metal steps
Similarly tempered hot and cold.
You ask me why?
My legs are parted, open for You,
Do to me as You chose.
I am Your slut, Your slave, Your concubine
Without reason.
I have offered myself,
Chosen this
Consciously submitted,
So bear the heat and cold,
I writhe in agony and ecstasy
At Your objectification
Of me.
I feel.
Held in this state
Immobilised by Your control.
Crucified and so alive.
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.
My arms and legs
A cross.
Tied, held in silent torture,
One handhold glows red and fiery,
The other misted, iced and frozen.
Each foot rests on metal steps
Similarly tempered hot and cold.
You ask me why?
My legs are parted, open for You,
Do to me as You chose.
I am Your slut, Your slave, Your concubine
Without reason.
I have offered myself,
Chosen this
Consciously submitted,
So bear the heat and cold,
I writhe in agony and ecstasy
At Your objectification
Of me.
I feel.
Held in this state
Immobilised by Your control.
Crucified and so alive.
Sunday, 13 January 2008
Sunday, 30 December 2007
Double (triple) Dare
Cuddled up in bed one night we talked about the wildest things we’d done before we met. He’d had a threesome with his ex and a mutual friend. He described the scene as he left his friend to take his ex…more of a sharing and possession thing. He didn’t stay to watch.
My only threesome experience had been a little surreal. The man I was with asked me one evening if I would be interested in the experience. Whether it was the wine talking or some deep desire to try I don’t know…but I agreed. Since we had met through an online dating site, we agreed to try to pick some of the men on there and see if we could find any. It really wasn’t hard. We searched for men online within 10 miles, messaged about 6 and quickly got someone who agreed to come and join us. The guy in question turned up and I answered the flat door wearing a basque, hold-ups and stilettos. He undressed and joined us in my partner’s bed. He was clearly aroused…and my partner offered him first or second in a kind of matey way…he chose first…and fucked me quickly, coming within minutes, while my partner held me from behind. Then, he rolled over and muttered
‘Well if you don’t mind you two seem pretty into each other, so I’ll go now’
And dressed without washing, walked out into the night. Not quite the erotic experience we’d expected, though the anticipation was in itself enough.
So, this time we agreed it was to be a more planned event. I was to find someone through the internet, but to set a date rather than look for immediate fulfilment. The idea was that I had control over who to ask, but that I was not allowed to speak to the person in question or to see a photograph of them.
The man I found chatted to me on the internet. He told me that he was a regular at some of the London swingers clubs, that he had a partner who enjoyed that lifestyle and that they both enjoyed playing with other people when it suited them. He offered to call me and he offered to send me a photograph but I declined both. I wanted the thrill of the unexpected. I did have a description and I knew from his chat that he was reasonably articulate and could at least spell. That was enough.
The venue was to be my flat in West London, a high ceilinged Victorian mock gothic affair. My living room was dramatic with floor to ceiling red velvet curtains and a gold brocade covered chaise lounge. My bedroom small but private, with a large double bed taking up much of the room. I made sure the bed had fresh white bed linen, the living room had red roses on the table and white lilies in front of the fireplace. I lit scented candles so that the entire flat smelt of lavender and musk.
I bathed and prepared myself, rubbing body lotion on my arms and legs and baby oil onto my breasts and cunt. I put on make-up, strong red lipstick, mascara and black kohled eyes and dressed as suggested by my partner. Black hold-ups, a very short black leather skirt, a black basque, stiletto heels, a small silver choker round my neck. Then I poured myself a glass of champagne. I heard my partner returning and poured a glass for him too.
We had about half an hour to ourselves and played gently…no fucking, just fingers teasing and tormenting each other, lips playing and arousing each other, sipping champagne, nibbling on flesh. No fucking. I don’t know which of us was more nervous, which more excited.
The door bell rang; I hesitated before going to answer. Our guest was slightly built, clean and well dressed. He smelt faintly of fresh sweat, an honest clean smell. I offered him champagne but he refused…though he looked approvingly at me. I can’t remember how it started but I found myself kneeling on the chaise lounge sucking my partner…while our guest was fingering me. I was fucked. I remember being fucked with one man in my mouth, trying my best to concentrate on him, while becoming increasingly distracted by the cock in my cunt. I remember a swap at a certain point, cum spilling down my face and over my breasts. I remember one man pushing his cock into my arse. I don’t remember how it ended or how many times they came or how many times I came. It wasn’t like that - it was seamless, continuous and endless. I loved it.
Afterwards our guest showered and thanked us both. He offered to take us with him to the swingers clubs he used. He offered to take us both or me alone. But, something about that seemed tacky at the time. When he had left, my partner ran a bath for me and washed me gently, dried me and put me into the unused bed. Then bathed himself before joining me in bed. We held each other and slept.
My only threesome experience had been a little surreal. The man I was with asked me one evening if I would be interested in the experience. Whether it was the wine talking or some deep desire to try I don’t know…but I agreed. Since we had met through an online dating site, we agreed to try to pick some of the men on there and see if we could find any. It really wasn’t hard. We searched for men online within 10 miles, messaged about 6 and quickly got someone who agreed to come and join us. The guy in question turned up and I answered the flat door wearing a basque, hold-ups and stilettos. He undressed and joined us in my partner’s bed. He was clearly aroused…and my partner offered him first or second in a kind of matey way…he chose first…and fucked me quickly, coming within minutes, while my partner held me from behind. Then, he rolled over and muttered
‘Well if you don’t mind you two seem pretty into each other, so I’ll go now’
And dressed without washing, walked out into the night. Not quite the erotic experience we’d expected, though the anticipation was in itself enough.
So, this time we agreed it was to be a more planned event. I was to find someone through the internet, but to set a date rather than look for immediate fulfilment. The idea was that I had control over who to ask, but that I was not allowed to speak to the person in question or to see a photograph of them.
The man I found chatted to me on the internet. He told me that he was a regular at some of the London swingers clubs, that he had a partner who enjoyed that lifestyle and that they both enjoyed playing with other people when it suited them. He offered to call me and he offered to send me a photograph but I declined both. I wanted the thrill of the unexpected. I did have a description and I knew from his chat that he was reasonably articulate and could at least spell. That was enough.
The venue was to be my flat in West London, a high ceilinged Victorian mock gothic affair. My living room was dramatic with floor to ceiling red velvet curtains and a gold brocade covered chaise lounge. My bedroom small but private, with a large double bed taking up much of the room. I made sure the bed had fresh white bed linen, the living room had red roses on the table and white lilies in front of the fireplace. I lit scented candles so that the entire flat smelt of lavender and musk.
I bathed and prepared myself, rubbing body lotion on my arms and legs and baby oil onto my breasts and cunt. I put on make-up, strong red lipstick, mascara and black kohled eyes and dressed as suggested by my partner. Black hold-ups, a very short black leather skirt, a black basque, stiletto heels, a small silver choker round my neck. Then I poured myself a glass of champagne. I heard my partner returning and poured a glass for him too.
We had about half an hour to ourselves and played gently…no fucking, just fingers teasing and tormenting each other, lips playing and arousing each other, sipping champagne, nibbling on flesh. No fucking. I don’t know which of us was more nervous, which more excited.
The door bell rang; I hesitated before going to answer. Our guest was slightly built, clean and well dressed. He smelt faintly of fresh sweat, an honest clean smell. I offered him champagne but he refused…though he looked approvingly at me. I can’t remember how it started but I found myself kneeling on the chaise lounge sucking my partner…while our guest was fingering me. I was fucked. I remember being fucked with one man in my mouth, trying my best to concentrate on him, while becoming increasingly distracted by the cock in my cunt. I remember a swap at a certain point, cum spilling down my face and over my breasts. I remember one man pushing his cock into my arse. I don’t remember how it ended or how many times they came or how many times I came. It wasn’t like that - it was seamless, continuous and endless. I loved it.
Afterwards our guest showered and thanked us both. He offered to take us with him to the swingers clubs he used. He offered to take us both or me alone. But, something about that seemed tacky at the time. When he had left, my partner ran a bath for me and washed me gently, dried me and put me into the unused bed. Then bathed himself before joining me in bed. We held each other and slept.
Saturday, 29 December 2007
Silence
Silence can be frightening, it can be erotic, it can be frustrating and it can be depressing if it is not consensual. When I hear nothing from you I quickly become depressed because I worry that you no longer want me. When I cannot ask you a question I can panic and fret, fearing I will fail you unintentionally.
Silence when I know it is intentionally controlled by you is frightening and erotic. When you first instructed me, told me that my role tonight was to serve you without words, without a sound, without saying anything I was both frightened and excited. You told me that no matter what you instructed I was to obey without question. And, as I was to be silent, I was not to answer the phone. You would keep me occupied and I wasn’t to chat on msn either…words without sound counted. My focus was to be on serving you.
I’m excited and aroused. The anticipation of following your instructions does that to me even (or perhaps even more so) if I am not sure what is going to result. I arrive by car at your house dressed as I have been told. I am wearing seamed stockings and a waspie style suspender belt. I have on a sheer white blouse, no bra and a tight fitting pencil skirt which buttons through from waist to knee. On my feet, high black patent stilettos, around my neck a fine black ribbon choker. Were it not for the extreme height of the heels, the arse clinging tightness of the skirt and the transparency of the blouse, I could be your PA visiting to take minutes of an extraordinary meeting...
You open the door and take me inside. The house is silent, no television or radio. In the hallway you turn me and inspect me. You open my bag and remove my mobile phone, disconnecting the battery before returning it. You pull my head back with one hand and unfasten my blouse with the other.
‘Now show me how pleased you are to see me slut’
I kneel in front of you and look up into your eyes. I clench my eyes closed for a minute, silently praying that I understand your first instruction this evening, then unzip your trousers and take you in my mouth. At least there is no temptation to speak this way with my mouth filled.
I taste the precum and play the head of your cock round my tongue. I ache for you to hold me but you are just watching, smiling and saying nothing. I cup your balls and gently stroke the area from your arse to your cock…and watch you groan with pleasure.
‘That’s enough for now. You haven’t earned that yet…Now, I want to watch you strip for me. I will tell you when to stop. Stand now and I will direct you.’
You push me in front of you into the living room. I’m embarrassed and nervous. The lights are on full and there’s space in the middle of the room for me. You put on a CD and I start to strip. I unbutton my skirt and step out of it. I slowly unbutton my blouse. My breasts are bare and exposed, the nipples erect. I wriggle out of the blouse and try a poor imitation of a stripper by turning and winding it round my head. My intention is to leave the choker till the end, for me that has a special meaning and is my sign to you of my submission.
‘That’s enough. Definitely more practise needed there but you may keep your shoes and stockings – they rather please me’
I was actually rather hoping to be barefoot. The shoes have 5inch heels and I am walking on tiptoes. But I think you’ve noticed that I am more vulnerable this way than barefoot.
‘Now if you go into the kitchen you’ll see My supper waiting for you to cook’
You’ve laid out a single steak, some mushrooms, a tomato and the ingredients for a salad. I am feeling a little more confident now; I know how you like this prepared. As the steak sizzles I hear your footsteps behind me. I feel your eyes on my bare arse and almost, but don’t quite anticipate what happens next as you grab my hair and spank me hard. And, I almost squeak…but bite my lip. You turn me and kiss me gently tasting the blood, then sucking vampire like on my lips and tongue. I And then you release me from your grip.
The steak is ready and I serve you. I’m hungry now and watching you eating is making me feel slightly dizzy.
‘Kneel girl; you should know your place by now!’
I am quickly on my knees, prostrate in front of you.
I stay for what seems like hours. I want to ask you what you have planned for the rest of the evening but cannot speak. Finally I hear the noise of you finishing your food. Calling You Sir makes me tremble and wriggle with excitement and I am frustrated at not being able to ask you if there is anything you need. But, warm in the knowledge I have not failed you yet.
‘Stand up girl – it’s time for you to clear and ready yourself’
I stand up and take your plate to the kitchen. I hear you behind me again…your hands on my waist, your lips biting at my neck. You turn me round and look at me hard. Smiling, but firm.
‘Are you hungry girl?’
I know not to answer…I nod my head and once again I am instructed to kneel and suck again. This time, you cum shudderingly in my mouth and as you have taught me, I hold your sweet cum in my mouth, waiting for your permission to swallow.
‘You have done well girl, swallow but don’t spill any or I will be annoyed’.
I gulp gratefully. My nervousness had made my lips and mouth quite dry and I had worried my service would not suffice. I love the feeling of you cumming in my mouth. It makes me want to gag sometimes but, I will not fail you and spill the cum you have honoured me with.
As I have been taught, I lick you clean and close your trousers. You lift me by my arms to a standing position facing you and look smiling but sternly at me.
‘You won’t fail me’
A statement not a question…but I am still tempted to answer. Instead I smile back and try my best to hide my trepidation.
Now you push me gently up the stairs. I know where we are heading. I am, it must be said, deeply nervous. It is not that I have ever questioned you. It is that I have not been forbidden to do so. There are things upstairs in your dungeon that you have suggested I will enjoy and that you have not yet used on me.
Whips of various sorts including something you call a Sjambok…I’ve seen them. They scare me and I wonder just how far my love of pain will go. I try my best to keep an open mind about this, you know me and my body language and I trust you to torment me, beat me, flog me, cane me and spank me. I love you for the pain you inflict which overwhelms me, arouses me and excites me. And, I want you to push me further and further. Then there are the knives. Shiny beasts. You tell me that you don’t have to cut or break the skin with them. That play can be based completely on fear.
And then, I am sure, there are other things I haven’t spotted yet.
I decide the best course of action is to stop thinking and start trusting. Or rather I probably don’t decide consciously, I’m already far too much on edge. I just let my existence rest entirely in your hands.
I’m still silent.
You instruct me to kneel, as I have done before, on your bench. I do so happily. I love your spankings, I know I will tingle, be aroused and ache for more. And, as I feel your hand first firmly but gently and then harder on my arse I want to murmur ‘thank you Sir’ as I would do normally. I can’t. I can’t let you know how I feel…and that makes me powerless again.
Now, my arse nicely warm and tingling I hear you moving across the room and picking out a new instrument of torture. I hear a swoosh and guess this is the whip that scares me so much. I brace myself not to flinch or move. It’s gentle…almost like a stingy massage and I relax. I peep and see you smiling down at me again. Another swoosh, another impact…harder, then harder still till tears run down my face and I drift away to a different place.
You are there beating me and whipping me, yet holding me and cherishing me and fucking me I want so much to scream and I am close to cumming and I know I must not do so will not do so and you stop.
‘Shall I mark you girl?’
You reach for your trouser fly…and then stop again…
‘No…just a little too obvious…we’ll save that for another time. This silence is golden enough I think’
You wrap me in your arms and carry me away to bed and cuddle me, run your fingers through my hair, bite my breasts and nipples, fuck me and then fall asleep around me. And I silently weep with joy.
Silence when I know it is intentionally controlled by you is frightening and erotic. When you first instructed me, told me that my role tonight was to serve you without words, without a sound, without saying anything I was both frightened and excited. You told me that no matter what you instructed I was to obey without question. And, as I was to be silent, I was not to answer the phone. You would keep me occupied and I wasn’t to chat on msn either…words without sound counted. My focus was to be on serving you.
I’m excited and aroused. The anticipation of following your instructions does that to me even (or perhaps even more so) if I am not sure what is going to result. I arrive by car at your house dressed as I have been told. I am wearing seamed stockings and a waspie style suspender belt. I have on a sheer white blouse, no bra and a tight fitting pencil skirt which buttons through from waist to knee. On my feet, high black patent stilettos, around my neck a fine black ribbon choker. Were it not for the extreme height of the heels, the arse clinging tightness of the skirt and the transparency of the blouse, I could be your PA visiting to take minutes of an extraordinary meeting...
You open the door and take me inside. The house is silent, no television or radio. In the hallway you turn me and inspect me. You open my bag and remove my mobile phone, disconnecting the battery before returning it. You pull my head back with one hand and unfasten my blouse with the other.
‘Now show me how pleased you are to see me slut’
I kneel in front of you and look up into your eyes. I clench my eyes closed for a minute, silently praying that I understand your first instruction this evening, then unzip your trousers and take you in my mouth. At least there is no temptation to speak this way with my mouth filled.
I taste the precum and play the head of your cock round my tongue. I ache for you to hold me but you are just watching, smiling and saying nothing. I cup your balls and gently stroke the area from your arse to your cock…and watch you groan with pleasure.
‘That’s enough for now. You haven’t earned that yet…Now, I want to watch you strip for me. I will tell you when to stop. Stand now and I will direct you.’
You push me in front of you into the living room. I’m embarrassed and nervous. The lights are on full and there’s space in the middle of the room for me. You put on a CD and I start to strip. I unbutton my skirt and step out of it. I slowly unbutton my blouse. My breasts are bare and exposed, the nipples erect. I wriggle out of the blouse and try a poor imitation of a stripper by turning and winding it round my head. My intention is to leave the choker till the end, for me that has a special meaning and is my sign to you of my submission.
‘That’s enough. Definitely more practise needed there but you may keep your shoes and stockings – they rather please me’
I was actually rather hoping to be barefoot. The shoes have 5inch heels and I am walking on tiptoes. But I think you’ve noticed that I am more vulnerable this way than barefoot.
‘Now if you go into the kitchen you’ll see My supper waiting for you to cook’
You’ve laid out a single steak, some mushrooms, a tomato and the ingredients for a salad. I am feeling a little more confident now; I know how you like this prepared. As the steak sizzles I hear your footsteps behind me. I feel your eyes on my bare arse and almost, but don’t quite anticipate what happens next as you grab my hair and spank me hard. And, I almost squeak…but bite my lip. You turn me and kiss me gently tasting the blood, then sucking vampire like on my lips and tongue. I And then you release me from your grip.
The steak is ready and I serve you. I’m hungry now and watching you eating is making me feel slightly dizzy.
‘Kneel girl; you should know your place by now!’
I am quickly on my knees, prostrate in front of you.
I stay for what seems like hours. I want to ask you what you have planned for the rest of the evening but cannot speak. Finally I hear the noise of you finishing your food. Calling You Sir makes me tremble and wriggle with excitement and I am frustrated at not being able to ask you if there is anything you need. But, warm in the knowledge I have not failed you yet.
‘Stand up girl – it’s time for you to clear and ready yourself’
I stand up and take your plate to the kitchen. I hear you behind me again…your hands on my waist, your lips biting at my neck. You turn me round and look at me hard. Smiling, but firm.
‘Are you hungry girl?’
I know not to answer…I nod my head and once again I am instructed to kneel and suck again. This time, you cum shudderingly in my mouth and as you have taught me, I hold your sweet cum in my mouth, waiting for your permission to swallow.
‘You have done well girl, swallow but don’t spill any or I will be annoyed’.
I gulp gratefully. My nervousness had made my lips and mouth quite dry and I had worried my service would not suffice. I love the feeling of you cumming in my mouth. It makes me want to gag sometimes but, I will not fail you and spill the cum you have honoured me with.
As I have been taught, I lick you clean and close your trousers. You lift me by my arms to a standing position facing you and look smiling but sternly at me.
‘You won’t fail me’
A statement not a question…but I am still tempted to answer. Instead I smile back and try my best to hide my trepidation.
Now you push me gently up the stairs. I know where we are heading. I am, it must be said, deeply nervous. It is not that I have ever questioned you. It is that I have not been forbidden to do so. There are things upstairs in your dungeon that you have suggested I will enjoy and that you have not yet used on me.
Whips of various sorts including something you call a Sjambok…I’ve seen them. They scare me and I wonder just how far my love of pain will go. I try my best to keep an open mind about this, you know me and my body language and I trust you to torment me, beat me, flog me, cane me and spank me. I love you for the pain you inflict which overwhelms me, arouses me and excites me. And, I want you to push me further and further. Then there are the knives. Shiny beasts. You tell me that you don’t have to cut or break the skin with them. That play can be based completely on fear.
And then, I am sure, there are other things I haven’t spotted yet.
I decide the best course of action is to stop thinking and start trusting. Or rather I probably don’t decide consciously, I’m already far too much on edge. I just let my existence rest entirely in your hands.
I’m still silent.
You instruct me to kneel, as I have done before, on your bench. I do so happily. I love your spankings, I know I will tingle, be aroused and ache for more. And, as I feel your hand first firmly but gently and then harder on my arse I want to murmur ‘thank you Sir’ as I would do normally. I can’t. I can’t let you know how I feel…and that makes me powerless again.
Now, my arse nicely warm and tingling I hear you moving across the room and picking out a new instrument of torture. I hear a swoosh and guess this is the whip that scares me so much. I brace myself not to flinch or move. It’s gentle…almost like a stingy massage and I relax. I peep and see you smiling down at me again. Another swoosh, another impact…harder, then harder still till tears run down my face and I drift away to a different place.
You are there beating me and whipping me, yet holding me and cherishing me and fucking me I want so much to scream and I am close to cumming and I know I must not do so will not do so and you stop.
‘Shall I mark you girl?’
You reach for your trouser fly…and then stop again…
‘No…just a little too obvious…we’ll save that for another time. This silence is golden enough I think’
You wrap me in your arms and carry me away to bed and cuddle me, run your fingers through my hair, bite my breasts and nipples, fuck me and then fall asleep around me. And I silently weep with joy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
