Are You Gonna Go My Way
I swear and roll my eyes. It has been a day of one small thing after another going wrong. The last thing I want to do is drive all the way into Atlanta for a concert that I didn’t really want to go to and that I knew without any doubt that he definitely couldn’t afford. It’s one of those things he’s always doing. Spending money he doesn’t have. It drives me crazy!
As I lock the door to the convenience store, I let out a long frustrated sigh. I am beyond tired and my legs ache. Still, I know he bought the tickets as a treat for me. Lenny Kravitz’s music has always been in the background of our relationship. I can see how he would think of it as a way to celebrate our relationship. Still, what else could that money have been used for? I hope into my car and head home.
When I pull up, he’s already there, waiting on the doorstep in the rain. I try to plaster on a smile, and get out of my car. ‘Ya know, you could wait inside. It’d be a lot dryer.’ I try to keep the bite out of my words, but don’t quite manage it.
’You’d think so, wouldn’t you? However, your roommates disagree with you and think it’s far better that I sit out here in the rain. So kind of them.’ he bites back at me.
It’s my fault, this dislike between John and my friends. I can’t deny it. His ardour, his passion towards me scared me to no end. Add to that the fact that I was dating someone in our group, before John came in the scene, it was a recipe for disaster. I shake my head at myself. What’s done is done and there’s no way for me to change it now. What does he want from me? Love is a fantasy, a fairytale, one of those things people write about but doesn’t really exist. Growing up in my family, you couldn’t really think otherwise. ‘You could’ve waited in your car, ya know, that one right there.’ The minute the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could grab them and shove them back in. I know why he’s not in his car. He loves to play the martyr. I’ve just given him the perfect opportunity to do so by leaving work late tonight. ‘Never mind. Just give me a sec to change and we can head out. Do ya wanna come in with me?’
‘No, I’ll wait in my car,’ he says as he turns and walks away. I bite back the words of frustration and go on in. Five minutes later, I’m back outside and jump into his car. He’s angry, I can tell, but he’s trying to put a brave face on it. He’s trying to salvage this evening. He always wins bonus points for sheer determination. It’s how he won me over in the first place. From the first day we spoke, he told me that he knew we were meant to be together. I just laughed. That sort of thing doesn’t ever come along.
We make our way onto the interstate to head into Atlanta. The rain is miserable, and his wiper blades are not up to the challenge. We strain our eyes out of the windscreen, trying to see the road ahead of us. ‘I’m afraid we’re going to miss the opening act, but we should make it in time for Lenny,’ he says with a smile while he reaches across and takes my hand. I can’t help myself. I have to smile. Moments like these make me happy in spite of myself. He does some stupid things, but he also has one of the kindest hearts I‘ve come across. Lenny Kravitz comes out of the radio. ’Synchronicity,’ he says with a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. It’s his superpower. Whenever he needs a song to come on the radio, it does. If he is ever in a situation that a song can sum up perfectly, it magically comes out of the speakers. We’ve always joked about his superpower, but it really is uncanny. I give him my biggest smile and squeeze his hand and his eyes light up. I chuckle to myself.
As I turn my attention back to the road, we hear a bang, the car swerved and hydroplanes on the wet tarmac. John grabs the steering wheel and tries his best to turn into the skid. We slide across several lanes and I do my best not to scream. He manages to pull off onto the verge. The regular thump, thump, thump as we pull off leads no doubt in our minds. It’s a puncture. John puts the car in park and starts to get out of the car. ‘I can help,’ I offer. Goodness knows I know a lot more about cars than he does, but his chivalry prevents that.
’No, sweetheart, you stay here where it’s dry. I’m wet already, anyway. He disappears into the rain. I hear him rummaging around in the trunk. Some swearing penetrates the window panes and I can’t help but smile. He tries so hard. He is always so determined to make everything right. The swearing gets louder. I start laying odds on what has gone wrong this time. I feel like maybe I should double down on there being no jack in his car.
He opens the door and sticks his head in. Water is dripping from him everywhere. He’s rolling his eyes heavenward. His eyes lock again with mine and in the most deadpan voice says, ‘I think we’re going to miss the concert,’ he sighs, ‘no spare’. I burst out laughing. I can’t help myself. This whole day was a comedy of errors and of all the things on his mind, he’s worried we won’t make the concert.
I continue to laugh, and after a moment, he joins in, together we laugh until tears are rolling down our faces. ‘Man, I love you.’ and I try to regain my breath when I notice that John has gone absolutely still beside me. He doesn’t move. It’s like he doesn’t even dare breathe. Everything seems to stop.
John whispers so quietly, I almost don’t hear what he says. ‘You’ve never said that before.’ Now there are tears in his eyes but for a very different reason.
Pass the Popcorn, Please
‘A movie? Tonight? Sure, sounds grand.’ I’m not feeling great, but he seems so pleased so I didn’t like to say no. I know it’s vital to be open and honest, but on this one thing, it seems inconsequential, and I have wanted to see this film on the big screen.
We jump in the car and chatter back and forth on the way there, a fencing of words, flirting and not so subtle innuendo. It has always been this way for us. Wordplay is a big part of it all and we laugh back and forth as we parry and trust with our words. The automatic doors, of course, don’t open to regale our entry as if we were minor royalty. Instead, he reaches out and opens the door for me. He does it without thinking. It’s one of the things I find endearing.
As we enter the darkness of the cinema, I always get that thrill, that little bit of excitement as if I’m entering another realm. I let him lead the way. He keeps going up, higher and higher. I arch an eyebrow. He’s a middle of the middle type of guy. I’m guessing those seats were already sold as we only go a few rows behind where we’d usually sit.
The trailers play and we munch our way happily through our popcorn, cinema sweet. As we sit in the darkness, I lightly trace my fingers along the inside of his wrist. So, light and feathery. I feel something inside me clench and respond just to the feel of his body under my fingertips. I let my fingers stray farther, as i stoke back and forth along his forearm. The things those arms can do to me. My mind starts to wander from the movie. I‘m now hungry for something other than popcorn.
He must have heard the catch in my breathe as he takes the popcorn from between us and places it on the empty seat beside him. He raises up the armrest between us and he leans towards me. My fingertips continue to explore him. Gently up his arm, up over his shoulder and tickling his neck ever so slightly. I lean forward and shower little kisses on his neck and as I go to move away, I nibble and lick at his earlobe. I take a quick glance behind us. It seems no one has clocked us. All is well. I settle back in my seat, my attention returning to the movie momentarily.
As I settle in, I place my legs across his lap and run my fingers up and down his thighs. I can feel the muscles tense underneath my touch. I’m enjoying this. After a few minutes, I decide I’ll push my luck. My fingers trail higher. It becomes immediately apparent that my light touches are having an effect. I feel his cock, hard and ready under his trousers. I take my legs down off his lap as I swallow a self satisfied chuckle and continue my ministrations. I can feel his cock jump up towards my hand, pushing and straining against his clothing. I lick my lips. So seldom do I get the jump on him. I’m savouring the moment.
I sit forward slightly, slide my hand higher and pop the button at his waistband and slide down the zip. I reach inside down inside and feel the warmth and hardness of his cock. I can’t stop myself, I grab the knob of his cock and gently tease the tip I run a fingertip just around the top. Feel his cock bob towards me. A small laugh sneaks out, as I love seeing the effect I can have on him. I can see the little drop of pre-cum sitting there, so close. I whisper loudly, ’excuse me, I’m just going to grab the popcorn.’ I reach across and as I do so, my mouth sneaks down and sucks the tip clean, running my tongue around the knob, just for good measure. I can feel the jump inside my mouth. I love the taste, the feel, the silkiness of his flesh combined with that slightly salty taste. I pull my mouth away and settle the popcorn in my lap, as my hand reaches back, pulls down the elastic band of his underwear and release him to the cool air of the theatre. I begin to slide my hand slowly down to the base of his cock and then wrap and twist my wrist on the way back up. I can’t quite get to all of him, but I suspect this should suffice. Slowly again. Tantalizing. Teasing. I loosen my grip, turn over my hand and scrape my nails across the sensitive exposed skin. I feel him sinking deeper into his seat as his legs go wider.
I peek over my shoulder at the couples that are seated in the rows around us. They don’t seem to notice, or if they do, they don’t seem bothered. It just adds to the fun. I grasp him firmly and start a slow rhythm down and up, pulling slightly, increasing my grasp, moving just that little bit faster. i can feel his legs bounce as his feet start bouncing against the floor. I speed up, moving my wrist around to get to the sensitive back of his cock. I go even faster. I can see him holding his composure, but I know he can’t be far off now. ‘Thanks for the popcorn,’ I stage whisper again, and lean across his lap. I place the popcorn in the empty seat next to him and lower my mouth. I take him in my mouth. I run my tongue all the way around and so slowly, run my mouth down the length of him until I can go no further due to the confinement of his trousers. I laugh with him inside my mouth. I hear him grind his teeth. I breathe in, increasing the suction on his cock. I lock up and down first on one side, then on the other, all the while keeping the suction strong. I let my tongue lazily wrap itself around him, then as I pull my mouth up, flick the lip between his cock and his knob. I feel fingers tangle in my hair, trying to shove me back down, but for this once, I’m in control. I push back, refusing to let him dictate the pace. This time I bob quickly, as far as I can and then back up again, fast as a shot. The fingers in my hair increase their pressure. Two more quick trips down until I languidly pull my mouth back up and torment his knob some more, licking in lazy circles all the way around all the while running my nails down and back up the shaft. I hear it then, half growl, half command, ‘slave’. I can hear his desire His want. I have done this. I can arouse him like this. The sheer happiness of that knowledge causes me to smile, inadvertently scraping his cock with my teeth. His thigh muscles tense under me. I can’t resist any longer, I slide my mouth down his cock until I can feel him, deep within my mouth and back up again. I increase the speed with each stroke of my mouth. My tongue shooting around constantly. My pace is more frenzied now. I want to taste him shoot into the back of my mouth. I want to feel his cum shoot down my throat. I try not to let my hunger become too noisy as I go faster and faster up and down his cock, loving every minute of it. The fingers clench in my hair, shove my head all the way down and I can feel his pleasure slamming into the back of my mouth and then sliding down my throat. Just what I wanted.
As he finishes, I lick off every last drop, I tuck his cock back into his underpants and zip up his trousers. I leave the button to him, they are not my strong suit. I lean towards his ear and whisper, ‘I love a good snack when I watch a movie.’ I chuckle and settle back and once again prop my legs across his.
‘So I noticed,’ he replies wryly. I return my attention to the screen and pick up the storyline again. It’s not tricky. It’s relatively straight forward. I’m feeling very pleased with myself. As his hand rests upon my knee, I smile to myself and then up at him. He arches an eyebrow and gives me that slight smirk I’ve come to know so well. He grabs the popcorn tub and hands it to me. ‘Can you hang onto that for me?’ he asks. I take it in my hand, a little puzzled, but presume he may be off to the loo to help reorganise anything that isn’t quite back to where it should be. I go to move my legs away, but he holds on tight. I tilt my head to the side in a half shrug and let my attention return to the scenes on the screen ahead of me.
Then I feel it. Slight at first, and I realise what’s happening and I fight back the urge to swear under my breath. I feel his fingers slide up the leg of my shorts. He doesn’t waste time and makes quick work of my underpants as he pushes them aside and slides his fingers straight inside of me with no warning at all. I feel my muscles clench around his fingers. They slid in so easily as I was already wet from the pleasure of sucking cock. It has always made me wet. I can feel his fingers there, just wiggly back and forth inside of me. My thighs muscles tense. Oh. This is so not going to be good. He may have the ability to come almost silently but that is not a skill I possess. Right now, it’s just teasing, but even that is starting to drive me crazy. He leans over and whispers in my ear. ‘My dear slut, your challenge is to not come before the end of the movie, unless I tell you otherwise.’ I tightly nod my head.
Why would I think he’d play fair? He left his fingers there inside of me, just teasing, taunting me, making me wetter. Just when I thought I could adjust to holding back the urge from those fingers, he slid them slowly, painfully slowly, all the way in as deep as he could go. A slight wiggle, then oh so slowly back until just the tips of his fingers were just barely inside of me. His thumb brushes across my clit. I grit my teeth and will the sensation back. Try to push the desire down. As I feel my breathing start to even out. He slams his fingers hard inside of me, once, twice, three times and then rests them again to gently stroke my inner walls. I take a deep breath in and count to ten. ‘Was that you asking for ten, slut?’ he asks quietly. My head shakes vigorously back and forth. ‘I’m sure that’s what you said,’ he chuckles and starting slowly, but increasing in speed after every number I count in my head. 1,2,3…each time faster, after number five, he pauses for a moment and adds a third finger to the two already fucking me. 8,9,10. I am so grateful I was able to hold off. I’m not sure I can again. If he does it. If he pumps me even harder, or faster will I be able to stave off the orgasm I feel building inside of me? I think it unlikely. I try to focus on the movie. Anything to pull me away from my body. I can feel my brows furrow in concentration. Trying my best to shut down my overwhelming desire to come, I drive my nails into the palms of my hands. I want to please him, but I want to come. How dang long is this movie anyways? I have zero idea where we are in the plot line. How much time has gone past. Just as I think I’m back into the world around me, he pumps his fingers a few times, just to remind me. Like I could forget? Like I could pretend I couldn’t feel him there, penetrating me? Each time, I could feel my body getting used to his fingera there, he’d move them again, my muscles tightening around him, trying to draw him in, take me hard and fast. I close my eyes. My legs start to shake. I am oblivious to the world around me. My whole being has come down to focus only on that desire, my need, my want. I can’t hold off much longer. There they are, pumping again. Will this moving never end?
Almost as if on que, the end credits start to roll, I feel sheer relief as I think I can finally come now. In a heartbeat of a second, he slides his fingers out of me, and presents them to my mouth. I feel so utterly empty now. I can feel my muscles searching for something to clamp around. I open my mouth and suck his fingers clean of every drop of me, but the scent is still there. I can smell me in the air. The realisation hits. Those people around us must be able to smell me too. I lower my head in mortification. Please don’t make eye contact. Don’t look around, just let me go without having to actually see the faces around me. My forehead is covered in a sheen of sweat, even though the cinema is air conditione. My legs twitch back and forth. I am So hungry, I want any and all holes filled. I just want to be fucked into oblivion. He puts his hand under my chin and raises my head until my eyes meet his. ‘Pass the popcorn, please,’ he smiles and grabs my hand as we walk out of the cinema.
Absentmindedly
I didn’t even realise I was doing it. I was completely unaware until I went to reach for my glass of water. I had pulled my shirt up over my breasts and was slowly running two fingers ever so gently around my right nipple. Once I realised, I was loathe to take my fingers away. It was so light and subtle and there was a sweetness to it that I couldn’t resist. I licked my lips and decided I didn’t need that glass of water as much as I thought I did. I let my attention again go out of focus as I continued to tease my nipple into a lovely taut hardness. I eye up my glass of water again. Granted, to reach it, I’d have to remove my fingers, but something catches my eye. There’s ice in that water. I smile wickedly to myself and with a force of will, relinquish my playing to take that drink of water but to also plunge my hand into that water to retrieve one of the ice cubes.
I take the ice cube and continue my lazy circles. My body responds strongly to the ice and my nipple is quickly hard and solid. I flick at it with my other hand and that sweet pain tweaks through me. That is definitely not going to be sufficient to my needs this evening.
I lean over and grab one of the clothespegs sitting on the bookshelf by my chair. I snap it without a moment‘s hesitation and gasp sharply as it clips down hard onto my frozen nipple. That is definitely better. I pinch down on the clamp and twist it hard around to the right. I stamp a foot on the ground and throw my head back. I can feel myself beginning to get wet. I hear your voice in the back of my mind, ‘Are you ever not hungry, my dear slut?’
‘Seldom, Sir’ I answer aloud. ‘It seems a pity to waste a good ice cube, Sir, don‘t you think?’ I hear your chuckle in response.
‘Go ahead then, slave. I’d hate to interrupt your ministrations when I so enjoy watching you squirm.’ I blush brightly, but I’m not a fool. I’m not going to pass up an opportunity to release the tension riding throughout my body.
I move the ice to my other nipple. At first, I just set it on top of my nipple as I watch it harden and rise of its own accord. I hold it there. Longer. Just a bit more, until I pull it away. ‘Clothespegs, whore, NOW!’ I snatched it rapidly and clamp it down hard.
‘Oh, thank you, Sir, you do know what I like.’
‘And why would I not know what my slave likes, craves? That’s pretty close to impertinenc, wouldn’t you say? As you know, impertinenc can be a very fine line. Are you sure that’s a line you want to walk this evening? Now twist your nipples. Harder! Further!’ Oh, I can feel my arousal growing. I moan with pleasure. I do so love the pain. ‘This time, I want you To clamp your fingers over the clothespegs pads and squeeze your nipples in between those teeth. Then, when I say, I want you to squeeze down and twist with all your might. Please me well and we just might please you this evening as well.’
I keep my eyes on my breasts as I start squeezing my nipples even harder between the clothespegs. Just as I think I’ve adjusted, I add a little more force. I try hard to keep my eyes open. I want to close my eyes and feel the desire build within my body and mind. ‘NOW!’ And I wrench hard with my fingers, twisting my nipples a full 180 while squashing the tips. ‘Oh, oh Sir, thank you. Thank you so much,’ I manage to gasp out.
‘Nice, slut. Now, release your fingers but leave the clothespegs on.’ I’m torn. I don’t want to let go. I don’t want the pain rippling through me to stop. I like the way the need is growing inside of me and the wetness that I can feel building. ‘Tut, tut, slut. Are you not following directions? That’s just not on. Let go, now.’ Regretfully, I do as he asks, but now I’m wondering if those few moments of added pleasure were worth whatever consequences may lay before me.
I see you’ve dropped your ice. How very remiss of you. Grab another one, whore.’ I reach over and grab another ice cube out of my glass. ‘Spread your legs for me, slut. Let me see that beautiful pussy of yours.’ I do as he asked, squirming in my discomfort of so exposing myself. ‘Now take that lovely little ice cube and rub it all around your hungry little clit. I want to see if go rock hard and turn that brilliant shade of maroon I so like to see.’ I swallow hard. This, I’m not used to. I take a deep breath and press the ice cube to my clit. Oh holy hell! My legs go wider. My hips rise up. Oh, this definitely was not what I was expecting, it hurt but in such a brilliantly wonderful way. I would very much like to get used to this, I think as I continue to tease myself. ‘Now, now, time to take it away, don’t you think, whore?’
‘No! No, Sir, just a bit longer, please, just a short bit. I’ll be ever so good if you let me.’ I can feel my hips wanting to start thrusting upward.
‘Again? I’m sure that was an order. You are in rare form this evening, but aren’t you? So very impertinent.’ I hear the sound, but before I can recognise it the leather single tail smacks across first one breast, then the other, torturing my nipples all the more. Four more times I hear the swish of the air before the contact with my breasts which causes me to arch my back and buck upwards with desire. I hear the swish again. I try to prepare myself, but I couldn’t have imagined what was coming my way. The snap of the leather and the movement of air before it slammed down on my ice hardened clit. A scream flew out of my mouth. Again, four more times I felt it snap across my most sensitive of places. I could feel my mind fog as desire took over my thoughts. It was so painful and yet I loved it. I was so glad to have been given this gift. It’s in that moment I realise I’ve not thanked him.
‘Thank you, please, thank you, Sir, I am so grateful, it feels so good, I am your slave, happy to do with as you will, thank you, sir.’ I realise I’m rambling but I can’t seem to string a full sentence together. I hear him chuckle lightly again.
‘Oh, slut, you have no idea. No idea how tempting you look with your legs spread wide, feet braced on the floor, and pussy open to all. Speaking of which, could you join me, please?’ I try to focus, to open my eyes but right now I can only seem to take the pleasure that is burning into my flesh. ‘You remember my good friend?’ I turn my eyes on the newcomer and recognise him immediately. He is a good friend of my Master. A shiver of embarrassment shoots through me And I try to pull my legs together. I feel his hands on my thighs. ‘I don’t think that’s going to play tonight. I’ve had quite enough of your disobedience tonight. Open them back up.’ I swallow hard as I do what he asks. I’ve no doubt his compatriot can see everything, including my utter wetness.
‘Now, I’d like you to show my friend here how you like to please yourself, slut.’ I start to shake my head and the inevitable whistle of leather through the air comes to me, but I buck back as I realise he has changed tools and the full width of the leather belt smacks across my cunt. I scream as the pain rifles through me. My hips start bucking. Oh no, no, no. If I come now, without asking, there really will be hell to pay. I tense my muscles trying to prevent them from thrusting upward, seeking release. I hear him clear his throat. I quickly drop the ice and fin my clit with my fingers. Fuck! It’s a triple whammy. My clit is still hard from the ice, stinging from the whip and burning from the belt. Then the cold hits me again. Stupidly, I’d not even thought about the fact that my fingers had been holding an ice cube up until a few moments ago. The minute I touch my clit, I moan loudly, and slide my ass towards the end of the chair, my hips raise up into the air and I increase the speed as I run my fingers back and forth across my nib.
‘Please, Sir, May I cum?’
I hear his wicked laugh. ’Oh no, slut, nothing so easy this evening, I think. Impertinence, you know. Now, I could now ask my friend to go get another piece of ice and rub it back over your clit to keep it nice and cool as I’m sure we don’t want you to overheat, BUT, I know just how hard it is going to be for you to pull those fingers of yours away to reach out and grab the ice and once again, cool down your clit, though it does seem the more we cool it, the hotter it gets. So, slave, stop playing with yourself, get another piece of ice and ice yourself down again please. I grit my teeth and am tempted to mutter under my breath, but catch myself just in time. The minute the ice makes contact with my sensitive organ, my ass flies up off the chair. I thrust, harder and harder in the air, each thrust causing the clothespegs on my nipples to smack and twist of their own accord sending even more pain shooting through me.
‘Please, now sir? May I come?’ There is a pained tone in my voice. I don’t honestly know if I can hold off.
’No, slut. Keep going.’ I hold the ice there, bucking up and down, thrusting up my hips, I can hear the clothespegs smacking against my flesh. I shake my head from side to side but that seems to only jiggle the clothespegs more, teasing me more. The speed of my hips increases. I want to pull the ice away, but then again, I don’t want to pull it away. ‘Shove the ice cube into your hungry fucking hole, slut.’ I don’t hesitate and shove it in. A low moan begins inside my chest and grows and grows until it forces itself out from behind my lips. ‘Play with your clit, now, dear.’ I do as he asks. I can feel tears forming at the corner of my eyes. I must be a spectacle but I can’t help myself. I need it. I want this. My fingers flick rapidly back and forth, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I want to scream out. My head just rocks back and forth, animal noises echo in my ears. Harder and harder I fuck the empty air while my fingers fiddle my clit which wants nothing more than release.
‘Please…..please….i want….please…May I? Please? Sir? May I come? May I show you? Please sir, please!’ I’m desperate now. It seems forever before I hear his voice.
‘What do you think, would you like to see her come? We can just leave her like this. Come back to her later? Should we let her? Do you think she has done enough to earn that treat?’ I am screaming inside my head. They can’t leave me like this! I must come! I manage to keep it in my mind as more moans fill the room.
The two men move forward, it’s only then that I really see them. I realise they are standing there, each with their cocks in their hands, stroking, pulling, teasing. They increase the speed. My body still writhes for release. I want those cocks. I don’t care where. I just want them. Now! ‘Fuck me, please fuck me, fill me up, both of you please,’ but they ignore my pleas. I keep fucking my clit but feeling a new hunger growing inside me. Now my body is just jerking in every direction begging to be filled.
’Come NOW bitch!’ I don’t have to be told twice, I release the last wall if put up to hold my orgasm back. I scream and scream as my whole body strains and shakes and pushes up in the air as my release shakes me down to my toes. I feel my wetness come spraying out, making my embarrassment complete. At that precise moment, both men step closer as they shoot their loads all over my body. It seems to keep coming. More and more. My mind swims away from me. ‘Rub it in,slave.’ I finally remove my finger from my clit as shockwaves still jerk me involuntarily. I place my hands on my stomach and start to rub their semen all over my stomach, and over my breasts. I slide my fingers through the still warm come and blend them together covering my entire torso. ‘Good girl. Now, lick your fingers and hands clean.’ I do that but as I do so, I imagine just what it would have felt like to have both men alternate turns, fucking my mouth. In the corner of my mind, I hear someone counting down. 3-2-1-Now! Each one of them grabs one of the clothespegs, twists hard and them takes them off my nipples. My body shoots back into the air as blood returns to my nipples and I scream as yet another orgasm shakes through what feels like every nerve in my body. I fall back and fall asleep.
How things change in a minute
I stand up and sigh. I walk slowly across the landing to the bedroom. As I shut the door behind me, I nearly collapse to my knees. My head follows down to the floor. It has been one of those days. One of those days when I just seemed to keep taking blows. As I close my eyes I feel it. Slowly sliding over my body is that shield of safety, of protection. I am engulfed and cocooned by you. There is no need to be anyone or anything. I can just breathe in, then breathe out. This minute, set aside for you, but today feels more for me than for you as you give me the freedom to not be. I know your protection is around me. I need not worry about anything. I am in your hands and I have no doubt that you will keep me safe. As my body settles, my mind follows, it lets go of all the pain, stress and loss of the last 12 hours. It all seeps out of me and I am instead filled with your presence. I sense you there above me. Knowing I am in the periphery of your eye, should I have need of you. Time goes. I don’t notice. Eventually, my eyes reopen. I quietly whisper ‘thank you, sir’ into the air. I rise up, crawl into bed and sleep comes quickly.
Just a minute
The compulsion is so strong. I step out of the shower and turn off my music. I grab my towel and lay it on the floor. I kneel down, put my hands down in front of me and place my head on my hands. I can feel it, it’s moving through me. I am yours. I serve you. I am there for your pleasure. I serve only you and those you wish me to serve. My breathing slows. I feel your presence, watching. As the water drips off of me, I remember. I remember the light touch of your hand on my head and then the tight pulling of my hair as you turn me and plunge your cock into my mouth. I remember crawling around your flat, hating it, but knowing it pleases you. I feel your feet on my naked back as you sit down and put your feet up on me. You’d warned me this posture, this brief minute in time might arouse me. As usual, you are correct. What I didn’t expect was the peace that settled over me. The stillness that came and caused me to pause and lose track of time. I smile deeply all the way down into the core of myself. I give.
I stand up, towel off and go to get dressed.
Lazy days
I look up and a smile spreads across my face. ‘Hey’. With that, my smile gets a little bit wider. I can’t help it, I can feel that desire brewing inside of me. Some days, it’s just up to you to make the most of it.
He’s busy, but that’s okay. I don’t mind. I walk barefoot across the room. The sounds of his computer keys muffling any other sound. I lean down and lightly kiss his neck, I move a little lower, and press my lips to his throat. I can feel him swallow. He tries to give me that look. Not today. I move around to the other side of his neck and leave a trail of kisses as I then take his ear, lightly, teasingly in between my teeth. I tug ever so gently. I flick my tongue over his ear lobe. I look down at his lap and can tell by the results there that my attention is not entirely unwelcome.
I slide down to the floor and climb under his desk. I push his chair that slightest bit away and nudge my head up between his legs. I raise my eyes and smile again. I rub my face against the growing lump of his cock under his trousers. I close my eyes and I remember just how nice that cock feels sliding into my mouth. I can feel myself start to salivate.
I reach my arms up and run my hands up his chest, feeling him just underneath the material of his shirt causes my heart speed up. I start with the top button, and undo it deftly. Then the next button. Oops, did my hand accidentally glide over your crotch. I can feel my hunger start to grow. I shake my head and refocus my thoughts. My hands are a little less certain as I undo the next button. Slowly, so slowly, I undo each one in turn. I push his chair a little further away from his desk. I can still hear his typing, but I imagine that it has slowed a bit.
I rest my elbows on his thighs and slide my hands up his chest and push His shirt down his shoulders. His arms are slightly restricted, but I don’t doubt that if he wanted to stop me, he would. I start at the base of his throat and slowly leave a trail of light kisses down his chest. My mouth moves to the side, seeking out his nipple. I hold it in place tenderly between my teeth as I start to flick my tongue back and forth and I am rewarded by the hardening I can feel in my mouth. I can’t help myself. I bite down hard and I start lashing his nipple with my tongue, then biting down that little bit more and sucking it into my mouth. I smile as I pull back. His typing is most assuredly going more slowly than before. I rain a small shower of kisses across his chest as I make my way to his other nipple. This time, I’m not so kind. I grab his nipple tightly between my teeth and twist. I feel his body jerk momentarily, before the clacking of the keys begins again. I run my tongue around and around his nipple. Flicking first hard then light. I chuckle while I still hold it there. I bite down again and then release as I begin to move down his chest moving lower and lower.
As I reach his waistband, I glide my tongue just along the top of his trousers. I lower my head. First, I run my right cheek up the length of him and then run my left cheek down the other side. I can’t help myself. I run my tongue over His trousers, feeling his cock jump at the feel of my mouth.
I reach up and undo the button on his trousers. Then I grip the zipper and take all the time in the world to slowly pull it down tooth by tooth. I can see his cock there, peeking out of the top of his pants. I feel my hunger kick into overdrive. I slide my hands down his hips, trying to get access. I glance up. He’s watching me, Almost challenging me. I rise up just slightly and take the knob, just barely visible, and take it in my mouth. My nose nudges away the waistband. I increase the suction as I pull and tug at him. Wanting more. I lap at him. Tongue slathering what little I can see. Tasting him is always so damn good. I reach between his legs and start to massage his balls between my fingers. A catch a small sound coming from his mouth. Was that a groan? A curse? I can’t be certain, but his feet plant down hard as he lifts his hips from the chair. Without missing a beat, I grab the waistbands and shuck them down his legs.
I dip my head and take his balls into my mouth. I pull back gently, feeling them stretch and then relieving the pressure as I massage his balls around my mouth. With my mouth full, I pause for the slightest of moments as I take a deep breath. Smelling him, his arousal, his sexuality. It makes my head hum. I reach up with my hand and grasp the shaft of his cock, letting my hand increase its pressure along the back of his cock. Regretfull, I remove my mouth from his balls and finally get to take the full length of his rock hard cock into my mouth. This time, I’m pretty sure the sound came from my lips, not his.
I slide my head all the way down, feeling it hit the back of my throat. Painstakingly slowly, I pull my mouth up and down on him all the while keeping his balls in my hand, manipulating and Massaging them almost absently. As my head slides up his cock again, I scrape my teeth along the back of his cock. I hear a hand slam down on the table and can’t help but smile, but I don’t let my suction decrease. Faster and faster, my head bobs up and down over his lap. I feel a hand grab my hair and force his cock deeper than I thought I could take it. That’s right. Use your fuckhole, please, Sir. I wrap my tongue around the shaft as my head pulls its way back up, only to feel you slam your cock hard into my throat. I can’t help it. A frenzy takes me over. I clamp down and use all the suction I can muster as my tongue flies all over your cock. It so thick and solid and tastes so good. Oh the taste of your pre-cum, just sets me flying. Up and down at breakneck speed. I suck you in. Lash you with my tongue and then pull almost completely back, only to dodge back down again. Hungry for more. The taste, the smell, the pleasure mounting in me as well as in you. My actions become frenzied. I can feel my own wetness soaking through my pants but all I can really focus on is just how much I love having your cock in my mouth. I bob down on one side to then only pull back against the other side. I feel your muscles start to tense. I hear that mutter under your breath. i can tell you’re close and all that does it ratchet my desire up. move my mouth all around your cock, my mouth going one while while my tongue wraps and latches and releases. Not long now. I slow down to try to savour you, but you’re having none of it. You put both hands in my hair and starting mercilessly fucking my mouth. I try my best to keep up but am not always successful. Before I realise, your cum shoots down the back of my throat and I swallow as quickly as I can. I feel your legs unclench and slowly let your spent cock slide back out of my mouth.
I crawl out from under the desk. I look in your direction, walk across the room the residual taste of you dominating all of my thoughts.
I sit up on the sofa, pick up my book and proceed to read. I like lazy days.
Consequences
True. He didn’t say I could. But I certainly know he didn’t say I couldn’t. I mean, c’mon, it’s been at least three days since my last orgasm. What’s a girl to do? I waiver for just a moment. Consequences. The unwelcome word brushes against my mind. I smirk and then a broad smile breaks across my face.
I lick my lips as my hunger rises. I open my knees and spread my legs wide. This one, this one I’m going to enjoy. As soon as the decision was made in my mind, I could feel my wetness start to grow. I take one finger and dip it into my hungry cunt, and let it linger for the briefest of moments before pulling it back out again. I raise my finger up to my nose and breathe in deeply. The smell of myself only serves to increase my hunger. I pop my finger into my mouth and slowly suck down the length of it as I then lick my wetness away.
I slip my finger down to my cunt and gently trace around my lips, feeling the wetness increase. My other hand sneaks inside the side of my basketball jersey and find my nipple there. Slowly, I flick my nipple with my finger and feel it begin to harden. I grab my nipple between my finger and thumb. I pinch down hard and twist my nipple while at the same time, shoving my finger into my cunt. I moan as my arousal spikes. That’s just what I like. Some pain to help bring the pleasure into focus.
I slide another finger in and start pumping. I can feel my desire mounting. My body is so hungry. I brace my heels against the footstool as my hips raise up out of the chair. I hear a voice inside my head, ‘you like that don’t you? You love fucking your own pussy. To sit there and fuck the air. What a hungry little slut you are.’
I answer into the empty room, ‘yes, I do, I know exactly how I like it. Just like that,’ I say as I pull my fingers out of my cunt and slap down hard on my pussy. A moan of pure pleasure sneaks out of me. ‘More,’ I beg. Again my hand rises into the air and cuts through the air as it slaps down hard. ‘Yes, please, again,’ I beg myself. I raise my hand up into the air and prepare to feel it come lashing down when all the sudden a quiet, tinny ping echoes around the room. I grit my teeth and mutter under my breath. Buzzing through my brain, trying to bombard its way through my pleasure is only one thought. Please don’t let it be him.
I glance over at my phone. The message is crystal clear. ‘What are you doing?’ At the back of my head, a voice is screeching at me. No, no, no, no, NO! I let go of my nipple and try to slow my rampant breathing. I close my eyes and try to focus, to think clearly. After all, he doesn’t know anything. He can’t see me. My heart rate slows and I wipe my finger on my leg and pick up my phone.
‘Ummmmmm, nothing?’ I respond. Oh yeah, that was smooth. I can almost hear his voice through the screen. He might not know, but with something as vague as that, he will definitely know something. When will my brain ever learn that you don’t have to put in a text exactly what your mouth might say in the same situation.
Another ping. ‘That surprises me. Are you sure you’re not up to anything? After all, it has been three looooong days. Has it not? So, you wouldn’t be, say, fingering yourself? Or maybe have clothespegs clamped to your nipples?’ I glance to the clothespegs on the shelf next to me. ‘How unlike my very hungry slave. I would have thought you’d be doing at least playing with your clit, but if you’re telling me that you’re doing nothing, then surely that must be precisely what you are doing. Is that not correct, slave?’
I grit my teeth. Fuck! I sigh and pick up my phone. My fingers fly across the keys. ‘Okay, maybe not nothing. Maybe, just maybe, I had a couple of fingers shoved in deep as I was preparing to clamp my nipples. But! I had only just started, and you know, you didn’t tell me that I couldn’t and I know you’ve been busy and so much on your plate and I didn’t want to bother you to ask if I could. I thought it’d be better if I took things into my own hands and just let you get on with it. Ummmm, Sir?’ I roll my eyes at myself.
’Whose cunt is that? I don’t believe that is yours. As a matter of fact, I happen to know it is mine and not yours. You wouldn’t be playing with something of mine without permission, would you? Because, you know, that would just be foolish. Now, I ask you again, what are you doing?’
Crap. This is not going to be good. I type in, I was playing with your cunt, Sir. I shake my head at myself. You knew. Of course I knew. I should have asked, but I didn’t and now, there were going to be consequences.
Tell me, slut, do you remember early in our acquaintance when you were at my home? We all decided to journey to a friend‘s house for a gathering of fun? We made our way to one of the rooms and I reminded you that you were mine. I told you to look around the room and name anything at all that you could see. Anything that you named, I could use as an implement to bring pleasure or indeed, punishment. Do you remember what I did with the stapler you’d selected. You never looked at staplers the same way again, I’d wager. So, slut, look around the room and tell me what you can see.
I look around the small room. ’Well, Sir, there’s the television, my bookcase full of books, my exercise bike, my wet suit, my cricket bat, my blanket, a pillow, and my mug. That’s it.’ I keep my eyes on the three little dots at the bottom of the screen. I hold my breath, but I suspect I know what’s coming.
‘Whore. You’re going to need to stand up.’ I stand up. ‘Now, I know, that as you were playing with my cunt, you will be pretty soaking wet. So, I need you to pick up that cricket bat, and I want you to insert the handle of that bat into that wet cunt.’ I reach over and grab the cricket bat. I spread my legs and slide the handle up inside of me. My legs uncomfortably bowed out from the width of the blade. I feel pulled apart and uncomfortable, but it still feels good. I feel the urge to start pushing the bat deeper. Before I get into any more trouble, I grab my phone, ‘It’s in, Sir’.
’Good girl. Now, what I want you to do is put the tip of the bat to the ground. Once the tip is resting on the ground, I want you to lower yourself down deeper on the handle to the point where your legs are spread wide, the handle is deep inside of you, and it is merely this stance which keeps the bat standing up. I rest the bat as instructed and I begin to slowly lower myself down the length of the handle. My feet are on tiptoes but my body gives me away. I can feel the wetness beginning to encase the handle. ’Now, bitch, don’t move. I know you will want to grind, you will want to ride that handle and pump up and down on it until you cum. I’m not sure I’ll let you do that. It depends on just how good you are now. So, for the next five minutes, I want you to stay in that position. No sliding up and down, no clamping your muscles down, nothing other than feeling violated by the bat. Because that’s what you did. You violated what belongs to me.
I respond back, ‘yes, Sir’. I know this is going to be hard. The first thing to try to give in is that my body wants to slide up and down the length of the handle. I just want to bury it deeper. I want to shove it all the way in, to feel it slam into the back of me. Part of me wonders if it would be more like a cock or would it feel more like being fisted. I don’t really care which. I just want to cum. I bite back the urge and look at the clock. Are you kidding me? Not even a minute has gone by. Okay, this may be a lot harder than I thought. I try to take deep breaths but with each breath, I can feel the bat inside me. Oh hell. Next my muscles start trying to clench. If my legs aren’t going to drive the bay in, then my muscles seem convinced that they are going to suck them in deeper. I clamp my teeth down and try to get my muscles to hold on tight but not to clench and unclench. I take a side glance at the clock. Two minutes down. I don’t even realise it until I catch my reflection in the television screen. My hips are rolling and causing the bay to move around in a circular motion inside of me. I groan as I try to make my hips stop. In the end, I have to place My hands on my hips to get them to stop. What is the stupid time? Had that clock stopped? There’s no way that’s only three minutes. I can now feel my wetness running down the shaft of the handle. The whole room smells of me.
I grab my phone. Just that small motion had me trying to pump and grind with the bat Inside me. ’Please, Sir, I’m sorry. I really am, but I desperately need to fuck this bat. my whole body wants it. To shove it deep inside of me, to slide up and down feeling the handle sliding in deeper and then pulling back out. I want to fuck fast and hard and make myself scream. Please, Sir, May I?’
‘I count that as only three and a half minutes, slut. What I need you to do right now is take a selfie. I want to see a picture of you fucking your cricket bat. I want to see that desire in your face, the hunger in every taught muscle in your body. I want you to know it’s up to me when you cum, when you feel release, or indeed if you do at all.’
This then is the punishment. It was all working up to this moment. I can’t. I really really can‘t. My body screams at me that I damn well better because it is not going to be denied because of my stupid pride. The internal debate rages inside of me. It’s one thing for him to see me like this, another for him to have a permanent reminder of my desperation. As I feel my need rise, I snatch my phone and snap the picture and send it on its way.
‘What a good little whore. Remember, you’re the one who wanted to cum. Next time, maybe you’ll think twice before doing so without asking me. Now, we’re nearly done here, but not quite. You may now pump and grind and slam your pussy on that handle as much as you like, but you will record the sound as you do so. I want you to hear every sound of your hunger.’
Bastard! Thank goodness he’s only on the phone, but really, I don’t think I could hold out any longer anyway. I hit the record button on my phone and instantly I start sliding up and down. A groan escapes me. That is so deep. So fucking deep and so hard. Feel it there. Feel my thighs burn as they squat up and down taking the handle in deeper. Faster I slide up and down. It feels so good. So damn good. My pace becomes frenzied as my hips get in on the action. I hear the sound of the wetness squelching, the slight pop of the suction each time I drive myself up and then down. Oh my cunt. It’s so full and so wet.i pump don harder and faster. ’C’mon bitch, f it, fuck it you dirty little whore. You like doing that don’t you. You’re loving this fucking bat in your pussy. Keep going. Slam it deep. Oooooh!!! Fuck me! Oh! Yes! Yes please! Fuck me! I beg you! Fuck it hard. Slide that dirty little cunt all the way down until you feel like that handles going to pop out through your mouth you dirty, hungry, horny, desperate little whore! A scream tears out of my throat as my orgasm rocks through me. It goes on and on. Oh thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you. Oh yes. Yes. Thank you. Gradually, my breathing slows, my body stops thrashing, I fall back across the footstool and gently, oh so gently, pull the cricket bat out of my cunt. I close my eyes and fall back.
I don’t know how much time has passed when my eyes next open. I reach for my phone. I know what I need to do. I listen to the sound recording. I had no idea. None at all that all of those things weren’t running through my head. I was telling them out at myself. This is going to be more mortifying than I thought. First the picture, and now this. I shake my head and hit send. I sit there, still recovering when an answering ping catches my attention a few minutes later. I look down at the screen.
‘Whose cunt it that?’ I respond back with a single word.
Yours.
When not serving is serving
I know. My own doing. I just had to let my mouth keep running after a day that had not gone to plan. And now? Silence. The absence of anything clanging more loudly than cymbals in my ears. I sigh and shake my head at myself. I mean, really, what did I expect?
I stand up, clear my throat lightly, hoping he will see me. Or choose to see me. ‘How did I get so busy?‘ he says. Even those words cause hope to rise within my heart. I daren‘t say a word. I don’t want to let my guilt and my mouth to get in between us again.
I slowly reach down and grab the bottom of my hoodie and pull it up and over my head. I drop it to the floor beside me. The quiet is so complete that I can hear it hit the floor. I lick my lips, and reach down again to my waist. I grab the hem of my t-shirt and lift it up and over my head and drop it on top of my hoodie. I feel exposed. He knows this is one of the things I find harder than any other. To simply bare myself with no other distraction, with all eyes on me.
I take a deep breath, and grab the waistband of my shorts. I slide them down my legs and step out of them. I force my arms to stay still, to not come up and cover myself. I can feel the muscles in my arms twitching want to move, but I use all my will not to let them.
‘May I come to you, Sir? May I come sit by your side?’ He tells me that I may. I lower down to all fours, and I make my way towards him. I can feel the weight of my breasts as they swing back and forth. So awkward. I slam down my mind on those thoughts. All of this is self imposed. He may or may not be disappointed in me, but I am. I doubted him. One of the few people that I know I can trust absolutely and I doubted I was worth anything to him.
He is busy writing. It’s been a productive day for him. I lean down, kiss each of his feet, then kneel down, and sit back on my heels. I lower my eyes, and I wait. I still feel the absence of him. I want to babble, to explain myself, to defend myself, but I don’t. I don’t want to disrupt him when the writing is going well.
I breathe deeply and steady myself. The mantra in my head begins, ‘waiting IS serving, waiting IS serving’. I know I’m trying to convince myself. Being still is an absolute weakness of mine. I cannot do it well. For him, I’ll try. I feel an excuse to talk to him welling up inside of me. I shake it off with a shake of my head. Deep breath. Again. ‘Waiting is serving. Waiting is serving.’ He has told me this before, but I am not great at passive serving. Want me to entertain your best friend? I’m in. Wish me to please your wife. I’m there for you. Serve someone to show others what service can look like? Happily all day long. But sit? Be quiet? Be still? Wait? Every part of me rails against it. I cannot stand it I find it harder than many other things he may have asked of me in the past, and he hasn’t even asked this of me. I have.
How long has passed? I don’t know. Every moment feels as if it’s stretched thin until every last second is wrung from it. My knees are starting to ache. Still, I persist. ‘Waiting is serving. Waiting is serving.’ It doesn’t feel so angry this time. It feels quieter in my mind as it slowly glides through. I feel calmer.
Quietly, the words sneak out of my mouth. ‘Sir, my knees are sore, May I change my position, please?’ From far away, I hear you tell me I may. I feel wrapped in cotton. Words sliding through to me. I shift and merely sit by your feet. Quieter now, it floats through my mind, ‘waiting is serving, waiting is serving.’
I shake my head. How much time has gone by? I’ve no idea. He works still. A smile quirks at the corner of my lips. I feel I’m pleasing him by not disrupting. Still, I have a small request. Surely, he won’t mind a small request? ‘Sir, May I please lean my head against your knee? The physical touch will help reassure me.’ I don’t think he realises how much I felt I might have lost him, pushed him away. He tells me I may.
A soft satisfied sigh escapes my lips as I lean my head against his leg. I close my eyes. I can feel the smile stretching across my lips. This feels so good, so right. The thought sneaks through, ‘waiting is serving’. I wait. I shut out all else. I listen for his breath. I breath deeply in hopes of taking in the smell of him and remembering. From time to time, I feel a slight pressure on my head as his hand absently comes down to rest upon me. Each time, I smile again. To feel that touch, that acknowledgement of what I am offering him. The knowledge that he knows I’m there.
My eyes start drifting shut and each time, it’s longer and longer before they open again. I whisper quietly, my voice has gone hoarse. ’Sir, I am very tired. I will need to sleep soon.’
‘Of course,’ he says. He continues to work, but I feel the back of his fingers brush lightly against my cheek. He is pleased, I think. With that thought, I curl up on the floor next to his feet. I tuck my arm under my head and I promptly fall off to sleep.
He moves. I uncurl my body, and stretch. I know that look in his eyes. He is pleased. I’ve done well, but more than that, I’ve done well which has enabled him to do the work he needed to do. I lean down, and place a single kiss on each foot and then raise my head and smile at him. ‘Good morning, Sir.’ He smiles back.
It would seem that waiting is serving.
When it rains, it pours
I roll my eyes to the sky. You have got to be kidding me. I rise from my desk and grab my bag as I head to the loo. Quickly, I strip out of my trousers and pants and grab yet another pair of pants out of my bag. What did I expect? After a week full of play, my clit and cunt are still swollen and in a constant state of arousal. I am constantly soaking wet.
All day long I could feel it, my arousal slowly dripping out of my cunt. As another colleague goes past, I sincerely hope they can’t smell me, because I certainly can. How many hours until I can go home? Touch myself?
Finally, I walk in my front door and just drop my things on the floor. I head upstairs to strip out of my clothes. I slide on my running shorts and a comfy old hoodie. I tell myself, I won’t touch myself today. I need time for my body to recuperate.
I turn on the ice hockey, but as I watch, I hear it. Thrum. I push my attention back to the telly. Thrum. I clench my thighs together. I try to think about something else. Thrum. Who am I kidding. I can feel my cunt muscles clenching, my arousal growing, the telltale wetness running down my thigh.
Just a light touch I tell myself. I let my finger slide up the leg of my shorts, I dip my finger into the juices as it glides up and over my clit. My legs instantly open up. I feel my hips already pushing up from the chair. No! I’m not touching myself today. I’m recuperating. If that’s the case, why has my hand not pulled away? I close my eyes and let my head fall back.
Oh yes, Sir. You like it when my pussy is wet and throbbing. Ready for you to use as you like. I imagine your smile, well, more a smirk as I continue to stroke myself. You knew my resolve would crumble. I try so hard, I focus all my attention and with all the will I can muster, I pull my fingers away.
I look down at my fingers and take them in my mouth. Oh I taste good. I slide my fingers in and out of my mouth suck every drop of wetness off of them. Pussy. I haven’t eaten pussy in far too long. Could I do that for you, Sir. Grace maybe?
As I shift position, I feel my rock hard nipples rub against my hoodie. My breath catches. So sensitive. So ripe. I lean over and open the drawer on the coffee table and pull out two clothespegs. I lift up my hoodie and grab my nipple between my fingers. I pull and twist viciously. My hips fly out of my chair and a hiss escapes my mouth, ‘Yes, oh yes.’ The pain is perfect. I push down harder on the clamp of the clothespeg and pull and twist again. ‘More!’ I demand. Like my demands would ever get me anywhere. I hear your voice in my head. ‘Just for that whore, unclamp your nipple.’
‘No, please, I’ll be good. It feels so good. I promise. I‘m sorry, Sir, so so sorry’. My eyes plead. You raise your eyebrow at me. I sigh heavily and bring my hand down to release the clothespeg. It hasn’t been on there long enough to have that rush of pain and pleasure when blood flows back into the nipple. Instead, I only feel the absence of the peg. I wait. My breathing slows. I know better than to ask, this as much as the removal of the peg is my punishment. My body twitches in restraint.
’Well, whore, do you think you can remember who serves and who is being served?’ I nod my head. ‘Well?’
‘Yes, Sir, I am here to serve you, to please you,’ I try to let some of my indignation go. I can see your smile and with a jerk of your head, I grab for the clothespeg again. I pinch hard on my nipple and pull it and then with practiced skill, I twist viciously. As a shudder runs through my body and a ‘yes’ comes through my lips, I clamp the clothespeg back on my nipple. The pain just triggers my wetness again and my thoughts start to go hazy at the edges.
Without missing a beat, I lift my other breast to my mouth and suck the nipple into my mouth. I flick my tongue across it and feel the hardness solidifying. I bite down on my nipple and yelp as my teeth clench together. I gradually release the pressure and drop my breast from my mouth. I snatch at my nipple and squeeze it between my fingers. I pull it away from my body, stretching my breast out. Just when I don’t think it will pull any further, I twist and it gives a bit more. I snap the second clothespeg in place. I fall down on my knees. I adore the pain that pushes me further and further. I want it all.
I spread my legs apart and sit back on my heels. I stay like that for a moment, trying to slow my beating heart. I feel my arm start to move towards my pussy. I can’t not touch myself at this point. I know I need to cum. I need to push and push until I want to scream for anyone to hear. What do I care? As long as I get to cum, I couldn’t care less.
I squeeze my arms together so that my breasts are trapped between them. That way, every stroke, every thrust will cause my breasts to jiggle sending little shockwaves through my body. I slide my finger over my clit and let it stay there for a few moments, stroking gently, circling, as my pelvis lifts towards my finger, my breasts shake. So good .
I dip my finger into my cunt finally, warm, wet, enticing. I start slowly, sliding one finger in and out. Teasing at first, and then a bit harder, a bit faster. My head falls back. I slide a second finger in beside the first. Mmmmm. My hips thrust. I can hear the squelching of my wetness. I should be embarrassed, but I’m beyond caring. I slam my fingers in deeper. Harder. My breathing echoes in my ears. My nipples can feel the pull as the clothespegs bounce in time to the rhythm of my body. Now a third. You dirty, little whore. What a cunt. And you’re still not satisfied are you? You want more. The words scroll through my mind, as I reach down and shove my fourth finger in. A groan escapes me as I feel so full. My hips fly into the air, my head falls back, i can hear the sound of the clothespegs as they bump into one another. Harder whore, harder. I slam in as hard as I can and as fast as I can. I shake my head as I feel my orgasm mounting, pushing outward, I can feel my muscles tense and I scream as my orgasm hits, again and again. I can feel the water gushing out of me onto the floor. I fall forward and scream again as my nipples and clothespegs brush against the floor. I drag myself back upright. I shut my
eyes and bite down hard on my bottom lip. I raise my hands to each of my nipples. At the same time, I wrench both clothespegs from my nipples. As feeling returns another orgasm shoots through me. I let this one play out and slowly fade away. Every inch of my body feels like it’s throbbing. I lean forward my hands on the floor. I place my head on top of my hands. I whisper, ‘thank you, Sir.’ I hope you will be well pleased.
When the regular fantasies fail
I couldn’t help myself. I was so tired and couldn’t sleep. I’d been playing with myself for the better part of an hour but I just kept coming up to the edge. Having you tie me down for others to use, having people all around me, masturbating over me. None of it worked. I just couldn’t get myself there. I knew what the problem was. I was owned by you and without your permission, I wasn’t going to be able to come. But how? I knew you’d not been on.
The pleasure and the pain at having abused my clit for so long was wearing thin, and I wasn’t sure release would come even if you did. I went ahead and asked. How stupid was that? Once I’d asked, I knew I’d doomed myself. There was no way my body or my mind were going to let me come without your okay. I kicked, I bit through my lip stifling my groans, I was drenched in sweat. You weren’t there. I couldn’t go on but I likewise couldn’t pull my hand away from your clit.
I was aroused by thinking of you dominating me, owning me, and without that permission, I couldn’t. Or my body wouldn’t? Or my mind wouldn’t? I don’t know all I know was I just kept going up to the edge, and the thought of your displeasure would pull me back, no not your displeasure- more knowing that I was denying you the pleasure of having me come for you, being able to take me up to that edge and hold over me that control, that ownership. It’s your cunt, your clit. How dare I try to take that away from you. I couldn’t do that. I had to wait but each minute I became more and more incoherent. More desperate.
I wanted you to just say yes. Three little letters. I wanted to hear it. I wanted whatever I did to be yours. By your hand and of your will. Still the pleasure swelled as my clit got more sore. I can only beg for your mercy. As time creeps by and my body wants to betray you, I tell myself, if you’re not there by half past, then surely you won’t mind. You’d understand. You’d let me. I shake my head. I know better. Had I just done it. It would have been fine. But I asked. The minute I did that, it was in your hands and not mine. I was whimpering out my pleas. I so wanted to give my denial and my orgasm to you. To show how much I am your dirty little slut, how I was such a low little cunt that I couldn’t even come without your say so - and yet, I was so greedy, so hungry, I couldn’t take my fingers away.
I begged over and over again. I just wanted to be filled up, to have a big thick cock pumping into my pussy, taking it, using it, pumping in and out, deeper, harder and faster, until my thoughts just disappeared out of my head. To have that cock taken out as I scream for it to go back in. To have that cock shoved between my lips as another of your holes is filled, licking clean my own juices. I clamp down with my throat and lash around your cock with my tongue. Sucking in deeper. Wanting it deeper. Wanting it everywhere. Anywhere. I am yours to fill as you see fit. Just throwing me around. Filling one hole after another. I couldn’t tell you what you used or how long it went on. I just wanted you to use me.
I’m on the verge of giving in. It feels so good and I can feel my cunt clamping down on my fingers wanting more. I have to come. One more minute. I can’t take one more minute. Please. I am so desperate. I’m going to break apart when three little words appear on my screen. Come for me. The sweetest words. Wave after wave is torn out of mw, wrenched from your over stimulated cunt. Bucking off of the mattress. Gritting my teeth trying not to scream. Liquid pours out of me. My head is spinning and yet. And yet I’m a greedy little cunt and a hungry dirty whore and I want more.
I should be content. I know I should but I’m not. If I ask, either you’ll say yes and I will feel even more release as my body is given over to you. Or. You’ll say no and I will have to live with this torment. This need. A hunger burning with the constant throb of my clit at this point. I have to try as I still can’t seem to drag my fingers away. Again. Please. You respond. I know I’m such a hungry little cunt and often insatiable- always wanting more, but hopefully that serves you well. Maybe I can live up to all that you want me to take. Maybe I have the endurance. The ability to keep giving you what you want. I want to please you. I want to serve you. I want to see just what I can take. I grab a pillow and put it on top of my face as I can’t keep the sound from escaping as another orgasm comes ripping through me. Unbinding me and my whole body starts to shake. My head falls back. I just want to rest in that feeling. That bubble. I am nothing. I am Yours.