“Are you sure you’re up for this, Sir?”

She kept her eyes downcast, mostly, as she stood naked before him. She saw the cane move with him as he came closer, one fragile step at a time. Why she’d answered the ad for “D/s companionship” was beyond her. He was old, his face worn by time. Yet his eyes had burned into hers as they met at the coffee shop last week. Agreeing to a trial run of play, she had assumed she’d be naked and trying to raise his aged cock to some semblance of erection.

Or maybe he’d just take that little blue pill.

The hand not holding the walking cane flashed out, unexpectedly quick, striking her on the cheek.

“Don’t be rude, girl” he admonished, as that same hand whipped into her ponytail, wrapping the long strands round his palm and fingers. With a quick hard jerk her head was bowed back.

“OW!” she yelped. She liked pain, she did, but…she admitted that she had let herself believe that this old guy wasn’t really a “true” Dom.

She heard the thunk of the cane as it fell to the floor beside her and felt his hand grasp her nipple. Twisting it hard to the right, she rose to her toes at the sudden sharp hurt.

“Still think I’m too old, little girl?” His voice was a soft croon in her ear.


The words burst from her lips in an excess of enthusiasm. He tugged her hair again, then let the long tail of hair fall freely. Now both her nipples were caught, twisted this way and that as she gasped and moaned. He pinched like a sonofabitch. Her eyes fluttered up to look at him, seeing the satisfaction on his face. His eyes glittered in pleasure, the cruel devil shining back at her.

He released her nipples, but rather than giving her a moment for breath, grabbed large handfuls of tit, squeezing and then mashing them together. Her head fell back at the pleasure of the pain, as her clit began a steady pulsing.

“Do I smell wet cunt?”

“yes Sir, most likely.” Her gasp interrupted her words. “I…ooooh….i….”

“yes girl?”

His fingers worked cruel magic on her breasts. Small whimpers slipped from her as her pussy continued heating.

i like that…oh..hurts…”

“You did mention that you are a painslut. It seems that you know yourself very well.”

His hands fell away.

Her eyes opened after a moment. He stood there, arms crossed, staring at her. She could feel the heat of bruises starting to form on her tits, and the need between her thighs was most…disconcerting. Not nearly as much as his eyes, boring into hers. A quick hard swallow, and lowering her eyes helped her find her equilibrium.

“Display yourself properly on the bed.”

He’d sent her an email earlier showing several positions that he favored. She turned and stepped to the bed, throwing an uncertain look over her shoulder. He watched her, not moving a muscle. The quick thought that maybe he was frozen in some sort of catatonic state briefly flitted through her head. Before the nervous titter could escape, she crawled up onto the mattress and knelt the way he liked.

“Ass higher.”

She drew her knees further under her belly, until they were right up under her breasts.

“Spread your feet.”

Ankles were flared, her back arched as she bared her most intimate places to his view for the first time. She waited for his hand to stroke over her, but there was nothing. Forehead pressed to the bed, she could see nothing, only wait.


The sharp crack of his hand on her thigh made her squeak with shock. Again he hit her thigh, closer to her pussy and again she made a wee noise.

“You do carry on so.”

She swore she heard the smile in his voice. Waiting for the next slap, she tensed. It didn’t fall. Something poked at her anus.

“OH!” she gasped.

“Relax your butthole, girl.”

She tried. She gave it her all, but every press made her whimper and tense up. Whatever it was, it was smooth with a rounded tip. And hard, more like wood than rubber. It pressed through her tense muscle, and slipped inside. Her pussy threatened to spurt.

“NO! No cumming yet, girl.”

The whimper this time was for the denial of pleasure. Having her ass penetrated always turned her on like a motherfucker. It was the darkest of her desires, the one she feared most, but reacted to intensely.

“please?” she begged, “Please Sir…i…I so do so need to cum…”

He didn’t reply and she was close, so close.

“My walking stick looks amusing sticking out of your ass like that.”

The quick hard bite of leather on her ass and hip made her shift position. He kept smacking her, all unaware.

“FUCK!” she yelped.

A hand pressed on the back of her head, pushing her face into the mattress.

“Stay, whore.”

“yes Sir.” The muffled words came from the sheets.

He took up whacking her ass, moving from one side to the other, until tears wet the bedding under her face and her ass throbbed with heat. Occasionally he would adjust the tool in her ass, pumping it in, pulling it out. She would wiggle and moan, which would earn yet another admonishment.

He tugged it free at last, her asshole throbbing like a second clit.

“Yes, well, we will have to clean that up later, won’t we?”

He spoke matter-of-factly as he placed the stick in the bathroom. She was mortified. It wasn’t like it was unexpected for there to be shit there. It was, after all, an ass’s primary function.

She said nothing, but felt her face glowing with the embarrassment.

“Down on your belly, legs to the floor.”

Slithering, she moved until her toes were touching. He moved between her thighs, until she felt the heat of her ass come into contact with his belly. His cock slipped between her pussy lips, cleaving them like the prow of a warship.

“Your cunt is soaked.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Your ass burns. Does it hurt?”

“Yes Sir,” she spoke again.

“Good,” he said, as he pulled back and away. He entered her slowly. His cock may not have been ginormous (for which she was grateful) but it certainly felt divine as he pushed deeper into her. She needed this!

His fingers pinched loose skin at the top of her hips, and she whimpered as he pressed himself all the way home. He fucked her, each stroke measured, each stroke buried deeply into her, while his fingers tormented  her ass, her back, her hips, leaving bruises in his wake.

The pain was like adding fuel the to fire.


She exploded, her pussy clamping down on his shaft like a hot velvet vice. His voice came to her from someplace in the ether as she felt herself come apart, then back together as he stroked, stroked, stroked, never changing tempo despite her paroxysms.


Fireworks. Lightning bugs. Sparks from a campfire. She was all of these and more. Shooting skyward as her cunt clamped and convulsed around the steadily fucking cock. She’d never been fucked so deeply, so thoroughly.


She flew through the stars. Blackness erupted into pinpricks of light, rivers of sensation. He may have cum, she wasn’t sure. She only knew that her body was flying outward, her consciousness flung far out to the universe.

She woke, coming back to a body that throbbed. She moved, every muscle loose and hot. She was liquid, poured back into her skin, trembling with the aftershocks.

He slapped her ass firmly.


His voice was amused.

“Still think I’m too old, girl?”

Turning, she smiled sleepily at him, shaking her head in dissent.

“I think you are perfect.”

“And so you should. Next week then, slut.”

Reaching down, he lifted her head and kissed her for the first time. It was as firm and strong as everything else he had done. Dropping her head back to the bed, he turned and hobbled out of the room with the cane that He must have washed  while she was out.

Catching her look, and the blush, he smiled a wicked smile.

“Next week, you will wash it.”

The door closed softly behind him.


17 thoughts on “Old

    1. Thanks S.Sir…I’m so glad you enjoyed it. One for all us “older” folks…(still sexah and we know it!)


    1. 😀 I’m so glad you liked it enough to want more. Perhaps our Gentleman Friend will return someday. 😀

      (I’ve learned to never say ‘never’!)


    1. Thanks abby! This was one of those “boom” stories that just showed up in my head and needed to get out there right away!


    1. I’m so glad you liked it. It was one of those *popped into my head* tales. Maybe He will walk through my mind again…


    1. OOOHHH! Wicked awesome rope work!!! M is appx 10 years older than me (He’s evasive!)…but I don’t care. I like older guys, and gosh the things they know…:D
      So glad you enjoyed this one, Dee!

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