Most of you may recall that wordwitch and her Dom, Wolf, sent me…or rather, my Master, a care package. The header picture shows them, ranked in order of my curiosity about them.
Master had me think about them, touch them, then arrange them in the order that made sense to me.
Right after dinner, I ran upstairs and got donned out in my slut outfit, and zipped back downstairs. But before I zipped down, I laid out all the “goodie bag” stuff in the order of curiosity upon my bed. You read yesterday of the “warm up” spanking, while He watched football, and I got paddled.
I didn’t mention Him pulling me roughly to the floor, fingering me, and leaving me gasping on the edge of an orgasm, as He stepped away and laughed at my dishabille.
“you’re a mess, girl,” He says, shaking with laughter.
Why do they like to mess us up like that? *sigh*
Eventually He shuts off the tv and we go upstairs. He sees the bed and smiles. My room is very tiny, with slanted walls. Not much “swing space” so to speak.
I thank the Goddess for that.
He grabs me by my hair and orders me onto the bed. There’s been some tit pinching and some tit slapping, and ass pinching between things, but now He is all business.
And He’s dressed. His shoes are shiny. His pants are neatly pressed. His polo shirt is immaculate. He looks…like a man of business. It is a huge fucking turn on.
In point of fact, our evening together was mostly focused on pain. He finger fucked me, He used His double-insertion vibe on me, but He didn’t fuck me.
Didn’t have me suck His cock.
It was like a fantasy I’d read some time ago.
The Professional Dom. (Or somesuch like that.)
He took the first whip up into His hand. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Him checking it out. Running the falls through His fingers. Telling me how nice it….
was constructed. How soft the….
falls were. Aren’t they, nilla?
I can’t breathe. I guess I looked like a red-headed carp. My mouth opened and closed. And then? Then? The bloody bastard took up the next one. The only real difference?
He hit me three times with that one.
That was…dunno. He doesn’t play “gentle”. We’re rough and hard and i like it that way. There was no dancing caress of whips on my ass. Oh no, it was full-force Master.
Each thing made me gasp or whimper.
I tried to get to the last two before Him, but He’s quick. Long, long falls of rubber “thread”. The kind that wrap around your hip and leave a bunch of thin red marks that persist days later. Hard to say which one I hated more, that one, or the one with the fat “s” shaped falls.
Prob’ly the Ssssssss one…. that bit into my ass like a dragon’s teeth.
He passed the lot of them to me, told me to hold them. If one fell off the bed He’d use it until His arm got tired. I cuddled them close like they were my children and it was the end of the world. Seriously.
He play “tried” to take them from me from time to time, using the opportunity to pinch my tits, or tickle me. Fucking Dom!
And then there was the game. I had to figure out the answer or He would swat me with a toy. Of His choosing. He gave me many clues. Eventually I got it (ginger snaps)…but i thought it was unfair because…well, i HATE ginger. The smell of it, the taste of it. Ugh. Shudder. Ugh. I always have, too. I remember making ginger snaps for my grandfather when I was in high school taking Home Ec. He adored them and it was all I could do to make them for him. Ugh.
Anyway, I got it just before the deadline. Or maybe He did hit me some after that…that’s about the time things got fuzzy.
And about the time He flipped me onto my back and started seriously fucking with my brain. And my pussy. Oh yeah. Pussy grabs, and intense finger fucking have a way of throwing me way out into sub space.
Way way out into subspace. And far, far away from those header toys. Yes, those are safely tucked away until next time. When, He tells me, that we must continue our research.
“Don’t forget, nilla, I owe Wolf a report about your “fear order” …and we just didn’t have time to delve into that this time. So, yes, those toys will *definitely* come to our next playtime.”
And then He laughs, that deep Dom laugh.
Gee, thanks, Wolf.