it’s been quite awhile since we last checked in with our intrepid news reporter…i hope you enjoy the next part of her story. know that i always appreciate your replies, but i am currently a bit under the weather, (being sick in the summer? sucks rotten eggs), so if i don’t reply, i’m not ignoring you, just trying to get better. Stories are set to publish all week, so enjoy, and i’ll try to catch a few extra hours of sleep….i will, eventually, respond to any and all comments…promise! ~n~
She wasn’t certain if she’d ever had a more daunting assignment. She’d been asked to visit, and write up an article about a BDSM club. She’d had no idea, going in, that she’d have become so introspective about her own personal wants/needs/desires.
She’d never considered herself a pervert, before today.
Yet here she was, hanging limply against the supports of a St. Andrews cross, her ass and hip burning from the very first flogging she had ever received.
And she was so turned on she could barely breathe. Yes, her ass throbbed. But equally so — her pussy. She swore she could count her heartbeats through the steady beat-beat-beat in her swollen lips, her aching clit. And she was soaked. She couldn’t feel the wetness, her legs being spread as they were. But by bending her head just a bit, she could see the embarrassing puddle on the concrete between her spread-eagled feet.
He came around the back of the cross, and looked at her. She looked back, unable to talk around the ball gag lodged behind her teeth. He kissed the tip of her nose.
“More, little one?” he asked, his voice kindly.
She thought about it. Really, really thought about it.
For about 2 nano seconds. And nodded her head, yes. She admired the fact that he didn’t laugh at her. After all, at the start of this, she had thought that this was almost a waste of paper. She’d rolled her eyes when her editor had suggested this piece. Nate always “suggested” with an iron fist.
Later, she’d thank him for that. But for now, all her attention was focused on what was going on behind her. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear much. He was moving around her, she felt the slight breeze on her skin as he stepped behind her. There was a whirring hum, and then his voice against her ear.
His warm breath tickled the soft whorls, sending a dart of electric current straight between her legs. She moaned at the sensation. So light, not even a caress, yet so intense.
“A bit of pleasure, little one, after the pain.”
She felt the press of something against her pussylips, and it was so stimulating! Talk about intense. The humming of the vibe against her was echoed in the sounds that came from behind the ball gag. Soon she was bucking against it, fucking into the pressure hitting her spots just exactly right.
She was that close to an orgasm when He pulled the device away. She whimpered in need. His breath against her ear only added to the erotic waves crashing against her body.
“A submissive, a slave, a slut must ask her Dom, her Master, her Owner for permission for her ultimate release. We do love the sounds of begging.”
He ducked under her arm, his nose almost against hers, his smile wide. She blinked, looked at him through blurry vision. She wanted. Yet how could she speak, gagged as she was?
“Say it,” He whispered, eyes fixed to hers.
“caw ah ……” she paused. Cum was such a ..dirty word.
“Yes?” He drawled. “Can you…? what? Say it little one. Tell your Master what it is you want.”
She blushed. She was so embarrassed. Her nipples rose with the flush, her lower body thrummed in pain and pleasure, and she looked into his eyes. He was …laughing at her. The bastard. Brought her to this state and laughed at her. She was a reporter, dammit, a fine writer, and here she was like a common trollop and he expected her to …
Her mental diatribe was cut off as the churning bulb was pressed once more against her mons.
“Perhaps the little slut has forgotten what it was she wanted?” He grinned at her as she writhed in her bonds. In her mind she was pulling away from the tool, but she felt the damning movements of her hips grinding forward, seeking.
“Caw ahh cuuu?”
She wasn’t even conscious of making that choice. The choice to beg. It was like her pussy had taken over her brain. And they said men thought with their dicks. “They” had no fucking idea!
“Hmmmm.” He tapped his lips with his free hand.
And pulled the massager away from her pussy. She groaned in frustration, her hips pressing forward. She could almost feel it. Almost…but not enough. Not enough.
No where near enough.
“Most D/s couples would be more formal. You’d have to say ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ before, but…since this is your very first D/s orgasm, ” He paused. Gods, He was playing Dom for full effect, wasn’t he?
His free hand snaked into her hair, lightning fast, and the tool was pressed hard against her pussy. He pulled her head back, even as her body strained forward, trusting her bonds to hold her in place as she fucked herself wildly on the device.
“Cum, slut. Cum for this Dom!”
Her last conscious thought as her body exploded was that He didn’t seem to be playing at Domness after all. He was a Dom…and then the room went dark.