Hired! ~10~

y’all have stuck with this for 9 chapters without ANY sex. That’s over 10,000 words, you guys!  I’m so happy that you’re reading, and commenting and loving this tale. You’re wait is about to be over…. ~n~ oh…and today is my birthday…but I’m giving you all the gift! Enjoy!

 

The room was designed to look like the interior of an old barn, all wood beams, studs, and rustic boards. Around the room were alcoves, formed by thicker beams. They weren’t private, but they were intimate, she thought. Eyeing the heavy iron rings, nails, and hooks, she licked her lips. He watched her take in the great space, feeling himself harden when that wily tongue slipped over her shapely mouth. He could see the need within her, feel her fascination with the variety of straps and chains which hung near each station. He led her to one niche, pushing her against the wall. The heat of his body settled against her ass. She wiggled against him, smiling to herself. His hand, still holding her tie-wrapped wrists, pulled them up over her head. Hanging in this particular space were a pair of heavy cuffs, hung on a length of chain. Pausing a moment, he felt her bum press hard into his groin and wiggled.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered into her hair, slapping her bum.

“Me?” she said, her voice a husky tease as she looked over her shoulder at him. “I was just warming up.”

“Indeed,” he said wryly. She had certainly warmed up parts of his anatomy. Now it was time to return the favor. He slipped each wrist into a cuff, sliding away his tie. He looped it around her throat, the ends trailing down her back.  Pressing forward, he squashed her against the roughness of the wall, centering his shaft on her buttcrack, and moved suggestively along that welcoming valley.  When she moaned, he took a step back. Time to dance, he thought.

He lifted her chin, serious now.

“Yes? Or no?”

She gazed at him a moment, looking into his eyes, then at his mouth, before returning to his eyes. Smiling slightly, her lips parted.

“Yes.”

He nodded, accepting her acquiescence.

“Safe-word?”

She’d pondered that, actually. She couldn’t use “red”…that had been her safeword with Alex, and it conjured up too many hard memories.

“Ouch?” she said at last, grinning cheekily.

“Oh, I think you’ll be saying that far to often for that to be a good choice. Besides, with that “ouch” comes the pleasure. Would you deny yourself that?”

He made a good point, damn him. It was interesting seeing the Dom-mode begin to suffuse him. There’d been flashes, to be sure, but this was way more intense. He wasn’t scary-Dom, but he was…

Something.

More primal, perhaps. Eyes sharp and keen. It was body language and a way he had of engaging visually.

“I see the wheels turning again, Ms. Bobblehead.”

“Oh, right, safe-word. Uhm…” she paused, and he wondered what was coming out of that cheeky mouth next. Her eyes were dancing.

“What about asshole?”

He grinned, shook his head.

“You’re a smartass to the core, aren’t you? No. A word you’ll remember.”

“Oh, I have no problem remembering to call you an asshole,” she said sweetly. “I already have, many times.”

“You may want to remember your position here, little girl. You’re rather…vulnerable… just now, yes?”

She thought he might smack her ass then, give her a taste of what she needed. Her mouth formed into a round () of surprise at his next move.

He reached out then, and firmly tugged down the top of her dress. Her tits popped free, bobbing back and forth as if to entice his touch. He gave a quick slap to the top of each, making her gasp. He slapped at the sides, but couldn’t get a good angle. She was too close to the wall for him to get a good swing going. Moving behind her, he tugged her hips back, forcing her to bend. Her tits swung in the air. He reached for something, she couldn’t see from the angle, but the slap of a crop against the underside of her breast was familiar, and painful. There was no sound for some minutes as he beat her tits, top, sides, bottom. When he paused, she was breathing heavily.

“Was there a word, miss?”

She shuddered a deep breath into her lungs, her tits blazing fire. For a long moment she couldn’t even remember her name let alone a word. A word. A safe-word. Right. She thought she might cum right then and there. A quick slap of the crop on her nipple made her gasp.

“Mercy!.” She yelped out the word.

“Good choice,” he said, then returned to slapping at her tits. He alternated using the crop and his hands in equal measure. She thought she would scream with the hurt, but the pleasure of it held her silent other than moans and gasps. Finally, when she thought she was going to have to cry her safe-word, he stopped. How these Tops knew the breaking point was a mystery to her.

“Good girl,” he crooned, rubbing her aching breasts, his crotch coming to rest hard against her ass. And she could feel him. Feel the rock hard jut of his cock against her rear. She was salivating at the thought of that hardness sliding between her thighs and soothing the fire he’d managed to light in her pussy.

His hands slid down her sides, then hooked into the hem of the bandage dress. Lifting it slowly, she wanted to scream ‘hurry, please, touch me’, but held onto herself. Gawd, but he was taking his time, his fingers sliding over her round belly, trailing along the curve of her hips, the tops of her thighs.

“Please,” she moaned, pressing herself back against him.

“You know,” he said conversationally,  “I think this is the most pleasant you’ve ever been to me! Even saying ‘please’. It’s very out of character, you know.”

A long moan escaped as his hands teased up her inner thigh, stopping just short of where she most needed to be touched.

“Are you becoming a greedy slut?” he asked, his tone deepening. He could smell her arousal, feel the heat in her groin. His fingers moved an inch closer. She was quivering, her ass pushing out hard against him.

“Oh, please,” she whimpered.

His hands lifted, cupping her tits and flicking the nipples with his thumbs. He was holding her hard against him, his fingers kneading the tender flesh, constantly fluttering over her erect nips.

“Be right back,” he said cheerily, and stepped away.

He could hear her groan from across the room, and he smiled broadly. She heard him approach, hope blooming.

“Oh, by the way,  could you hold this for me until I come back?”

He slid the crop handle between her thighs, lifting it tight against her pussy. She ground down on it, rubbing her clit, moaning as he snugged it close. OH gawd, so close,she thought, trying to move to the best position.

He lowered the crop to mid-thigh.

“That’s better. Don’t want you leaking all over that,” he said. And he laughed. The asshole.

“Oh, and KittyCat? Don’t drop it. You won’t want to find out what happens if you do.”

The sound of his footsteps moving away made her want to scream. She wanted to shift position, to rub herself on something, anything. But if she moved, she’d drop the crop.  And his warning had been delivered in full-on Dom voice. Which made dropping the damn thing all the more tempting. The devious bastard!

 

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Of Lust and Desire

I write texts to Sir all the time. Some of the texts are just wee things, kisses i like to send to nudge at Him, some are quite salacious and naughty. Yeah, it’s a tough job, but this subbie is up to the task!!

The other day i sent him a text that went something like “where desire ends and lust begins”. He liked that line, but queried, “Where does desire end and lust begin?”   and suggested that i make a blog post out of it. Oh! an assignment! I love assignments (yes, i enjoyed school…)

I’ve spent the week since that text, pondering about that chance comment of mine. Does desire end when lust begins?

Or does it deepen and blossom and grow into lust…lust therefore being desire, transformed? Hmm..and does that preclude good old fashioned lust, whereby we see some hottie that appeals on a base animal level and makes us want. On the other hand, perhaps desire is lust transformed. See, i’m still all over the place about this!

for nilla? There are a few people i feel lusty about. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. (hot hunka hunka!). Captain Jean-Luc Picard. (I have a wicked  thing for bald guys …and no, Sir is not bald. Although i have suggested he shave his head…nilla laughs) Mariska Hariguay …c’mon you’d have to be dead not to notice her…, anyway, do i desire these folks? Um, not really.

So, lusty wench that i am, i am stimulated physically when i see some of those hotties on tv. That to me is just lust. I don’t know them. Who they are when they are not playing their character on tv. And that doesn’t stop me from erotic thoughts of any of them. That’s what i’d call “Lust”.

For me, whatever the hell Websters says (and i did not look up the definitions, i’m speaking just for da nilla here)…. lust is pure physical reaction to pheromones, visual stimulations, and whatever other wee cues our body picks up on to say “go fuck that person…i want it” . Talk about objectification!!

Desire involves more. It’s a knowing of something/someone…something that connects away from the purely physical…although that must certainly be a component. I love ice cream. I desire it when i haven’t had it in awhile. And sometimes when i really “need” a “fix”….i lust. I can taste it in my imagination. I feel all the physical sensations…the creamyness of the texture, the sweetness of the flavor, the chill snap waking up my mouth…Lust. A desire for something familiar, something wonderful, something craved deep within. I don’t lust for ‘chunky monkey”…i’ve never tried that flavor. But “chocolate chip cookie dough”? Oh, yes, my favorite. Familiar, desired, and on occasion, lusted for.

I think about how i desire Sir. His mouth on my body, his hands on me, the pain and the pleasure he pulls from me. It’s a yearning. A….deep need within me. I don’t feel it for other Dom’s or even other men. Or women. I get this desire from knowing Him. From talks and texts and physical contact. And Lust? Oh, hell ya!  Sometimes just the way He says something to me on the phone gets my juices running…i feel the shiver of it deep inside of me, a tingle that reverberates down my spine, and deep between my legs. This happens during every conversation. Sometimes i tell Him, sometimes i don’t but …always before the end of any conversation, i’m wet, and wanting and lusty.

In the nilla’s humble opinion, then, lust is just body wanting body. Desire is so much more! Sexual need wrapped in emotion….Love. Familiarity. Need.

nilla desires Sir.

as Martha would say…”it’s a very good thing”….