Transformations (i)

i’ve not forgotten this one …had to go through the dark to renew my ‘lighter’ side…*smiles* . Transformations (h) is  here…just to remind you

Her hair was dry, curling wildly around her face when she woke. It had been wet, trailing beads of moisture down her body when she’d come out of the bathroom, but now, hours later, and dried by a very different form of heat than her blow dryer…well, she imagined it took ‘bed head’ to new heights.

She lay, His arm curled ’round her waist holding her close even in sleep. She couldn’t help the smile that slipped over her face, any more than she could stop the joy blossoming in her heart.

In truth, her caterpillar had broken free of the chrysalis and was drying her new wings.

She had been transformed, the moment she had stood, transfixed, when she emerged from her bathroom to find Him in repose on her bed, holding her towel. Holding her fate, really.

She felt the soft warm wetness between her thighs, her pussy still gently pulsing from his attentions. Cock and hand, teeth and tongue, all had played a part in her multiple eruptions.

His cock was a delight;   nesting currently at the junction of ass and pussy and thighs, she could feel the silky skin grow hard and hot and thick once again. She wiggled, pressing that growing beast against the bottom curve of her ass.

He shifted his hips, sliding his thickening shaft deeper in the hot wet cleft. Was he awake, she wondered, or merely shifting in sleep to find a more comfortable niche for his rising penis?

The hand at her waist crawled upward and supplied that answer. He cupped her tit, hefting the weight of it, then pinching her nipple, gently, at first, then harder, firmer.

Teeth gnawed at her shoulder and she moaned. He’d managed to find the exact spot he’d bitten last night.

Gawd. Last night.

She fell backward in time, remembering. It would be hard to forget, this first time with a lover who was as filling  to her spirit as her body.  There had been some kind of magic in the air, as they had stood, face to face for a moment before he’d laid her on the bed, and traced her body with the lightest of touches.

The memory of those feathery caresses made her shiver even now.  He’d learned every curve of her body, every hollow. He’d probed, tasted, touched every inch of skin, sucking her big toe as avidly as he’d twirled his tongue in her belly button.

That had made her giggle like a school-girl.

He’d lapped at her breasts, sucked her nipples, all done with a gentle tenderness. Then He’d blown across her wetted skin, raising goose-flesh all along the round globes of her tits, which he attacked with his teeth.

He was playfully ferocious at first, growling and nipping along her tits, into her armpits, but play became infused with lust, with ardor, and with a deep, nearly savage groan, he’d sunk his teeth into her shoulder, biting hard, and deeply as his cock had found her swollen lower lips, wet with her need. His cock parted her, entered her, and they had attacked each other with a ferocity she’d not known herself capable of.

He’d fucked her through several orgasms, despite her gasping pleas to wait, so sensitive, please please please…He smiled down at her, fucking deeply, slowly into her belly. She was filled with Him, surrounded by Him.

And then He pulled away, and told her to turn on her belly. His cock gleamed in the soft lighting from her dresser lamp, wet with her sex juice. The thick shaft was at full attention, and she moaned and licked her lips.

He denied her.

“if I tell you again to roll over, little one…” His voice trailed off.

She rolled. His hands circled her round fanny, then kneaded the full globes. From kneading, to slapping, from slapping to hitting, from hitting to nipping, from nipping to biting.





Gasping, moaning. Was there anything as painfully humbling as having a Man bite the tender flesh of ones bottom? she wondered.  She knew there would be deep marks there come morning.

She could hardly wait.

His stiff cock probed along her leg as His teeth worked over her ass.  He licked up her spine, then reaching under her hips, pulled her up, instructing her to bend her knees under her, head pressed into the mattress.

Subbie, supplicant position, He called it.

She called it embarrassing…yet it turned her on immensely to be so exposed.

Vulnerable. Open. Available for use.

He began weaving threads of submission into their sex play. Two fingers in her pussy. His thumb in her ass. His left hand slapping between her thighs, bidding her to spread more, open more to Him.

Her breathing became more ragged, raw. Her need flared suddenly. She needed pain. She needed submission. She craved Him.

He didn’t disappoint. The fingers left her pussy, entered her ass. The bed shifted as he moved up behind her, began fucking her pussy from behind, driving himself ever deeper into her tummy.

Fingers from each hand slid into her ass, and her mouth was open making soft grunting noises as cock and fingers worked her bottom holes. He stretched her tenderest, tightest hole, persistently, gently preparing her.

It had been a long, very long, time since she’d been ass-fucked, and her heart raced. This was her ultimate surrender.

“Yes, little one?” His voice, always mesmerizing, sent a shiver straight through her body to her clitoris, and she moaned.

“Is that a yes?” He asked again.  He understood her reticence, though how, she had no idea. He was just that good … a man, a Dom…knowing that if she said yes it was to more than just a vigorous ass fucking.

She nodded.

“Tell me.”

“yesssss, gods above, yessss, please fuck my ass ….Master..”

He took her ass completely, the pain expected, exciting, and eventually, fading away to full-blown, raw lust.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease” she begged.

He fucked harder, deeper, then she had ever before been taken, and she came, and came again, before He shouted his own impending explosion. She couldn’t’ feel His release, as her cunt clamped down, hard, and sent her brain into a tailspin as yet another orgasm poured from her body.

They had collapsed together, entwined, and fallen asleep.

The crepuscular rays of the dawning sun began to transform night into day, illuminating the bare tops of the trees in her front yard, painting them with a patina of gold. That gold spilled into her room, dashing off the edges of the window, one post of her headboard, and her ‘Starry Night’ reproduction print on the far wall.

She could see his hand against her breast, feel the heat of his touch, the responding heat in her tit, the fullness of her nipple against his palm.

It was going to be a beautiful new day.