Hired! ~17~

“Ahah! Found you, you little cunt!”

Alex Kimbrell wrote down the address of  Jackson, LTD. She’d moved all the way to New York City, the whore. So, she was scared, a little, and needed some attention. So he would give it to her. He knew she wanted him to find her, to take her back home, by force if necessary. She was into that whole kidnap/beating scene, apparently. He wasn’t sure if this Lance Jackson had actually hired her after their conversation, but it would be a good starting place to find her. As head of his division, he was entitled to 6 weeks of vacation time. He’d use all of it, if need be, to get his little slut back. Tapping the paper with the precious address on it with one long finger, he turned back to his computer and logged in the appropriate request for time off.

“Here, Kitty Kitty Kitty,” he muttered, shoving the address into his breast pocket. It was time to make some plans.

*********************************

Her pulse was hammering, but not just in the heart beating hard between her tits. The small bud between her thighs was throbbing, matching the achy feeling of her tits and ass where he’d beaten on her yesterday. She could feel the wetness, feel the intense need building. It had begun when he’d snapped the collar around her throat, and intensified when he’d added the leash, tugging her along to the play room. But rather than taking her into the large public room, he had pulled her to a stop in front of a door.He exchanged a nod with the Watcher there, who buzzed the door open.

“Ladies–and I do use the term loosely–first.”

He gestured for her to precede him up the stairs that stretched up into another level. His fingers pinched at her calves as she climbed, causing her to stumble and yip.

“So clumsy, slut!”

Pausing, she shot him a fulminating glare before continuing up to the top. He poked her in the bum just for fun, then pushed her to the right where a door stood open.

“In there, slut.”

Stepping inside, she saw a plastic covered mattress, a built in cabinet with sheets and implements, and a variety of rings and hooks on the wall, ceiling, and the floor around the bed. She swallowed hard. The door shut with a quiet snick, and she glanced behind her. His expression had changed. He looked–feral. Fierce. His gaze, always direct, now had an intensity to it that made her feel like prey. Her belly felt quivery, a mix of fear and stark need. What this man stirred in her!

“Take off the coat, slut.”

Slowly, teasingly, she untied the knot of the tied belt, then eased it off of one shoulder. A thin black strap appeared as she shrugged the coat lower, then shook the other shoulder, allowing it to catch on her bent forearms. Cocking her head, she smiled at him.

He continued to look at her, not saying anything. After a long, silent minute, she rolled her eyes, and let the coat slip from her. Under it she wore a demi bra, which left her girls supported under the bust, but naked from the nipple upwards. The panties were black lace, and disdained to be called granny-pants. They covered the hated chastity belt, and much of her soft, round belly, and soft, round ass, but hinted at what lay between. A matching lace garter belt snugly held her hose. The stiletto’s that he’d surmised earlier, and seen going up the stairs, enhanced her softly curved thighs her shapely calves.

“Very nice. Aren’t you lucky I didn’t demand you shed the coat down in the main room?”

“Well, I would have explained…”

“And yet, I still would have demanded the coat be removed.”

Here he was, the full-Dom. Face to face with him, she wondered how she’d ever thought that Alex was? This man didn’t make her fearful, but rather, a nervous, turned-on agitation.  That he would hurt her, she had no doubt. Wasn’t she even now wearing bruises from yesterdays attack of the spatula and spoon? But he made her yearn.

“Remove the panties, leave the garter belt.”

She pouted, but slipped the panties off.

“You want that off too, don’t you?” He pointed at the chastity belt.

She nodded, eagerly anticipating the freedom. And the orgasms.

“You’ll need to earn this.”

He pulled the key up from under his shirt, let it dangle in the light. Her eyes followed the gleaming silver key. He saw the lust burn in her eyes as she leaned ever so slightly towards the shining key dangling from his neck.

“How?”

“So impatient.”

“I’ve been in this thing forEVER!”

“Not yet, no.”

“It feels like it.”

“Poor little slut. Horny as fuck and unable to touch or play with herself.”

“Yes. And … you haven’t…”

“What?”

“You know.”

“I know many things.”

She rolled her eyes. She hated when he played the obtuse game.

“You haven’t…sealed the deal. You know. Stop! I hate that when you put on that stupid face!”

“The Jerkface Jackson face, you mean?”

He pulled a long face, bugged out his eyes. She giggled, thought about slapping at him, but didn’t quite dare.

“Yes, that one. That…jerkface face.”

He stepped closer, into her personal space. She could feel the heat from him now, his breath on her forehead.

“Hands behind your back, slut.”

They went behind, promptly. He stepped around her, then bound her hands, of course with a tie. She could feel the slippery silk, but also felt him weaving it over and around her tightly.

“So tell me, slut, what haven’t I done?”

“The..ga-donk-a-donk. The crazy monkey dance. Belly bumping.”

“Ah. I see.”

She warmed to the topic.

“Boinking! Buttering the biscuit! Checking the oil…”

“Fucking. You forgot that one.”

He reached around, pinched her left nipple.

“Say it.”

“It.”

He twisted the nipple.

“Ittt…OKAY…OKAYYYYY!!!  FUCK!  YOU HAVEN’T FUCKED ME!”

He let go of her nipple, flicking it gently with a fingertip. She sighed.

“Now I’m all embarrassed.”

“But it’s true. I haven’t fucked your cunt yet. Your lovely mouth, yes, but not your weeping, needy cunt.”

He paused and she leaned back against him. He filled his hands with her tits, molding and squashing them between his fingers. She sighed as he released her, and pushed away.

“Now slut, let me tell you how this works.”

“Oh, please do,” she said, her tone teetering on the edge of sarcastic.

“That wasn’t very submissive, now was it?”

“I’m not a doormat. I have a voice. I can follow orders and directions, but I’m going to speak my mind.”

Stepping in front of her, he grasped her nipples, twisting lightly. She rose to her toes, until her mouth, open and gasping, was close to his.

“Good girl,” he said, surprising her. “Doormats are boring. I like your spunk.”

“I like yours too,” she replied archly.

He laughed, then twisted her nipples, hard.

 

Hired! ~13~

thanks for your patience, pervie peeps. The flu hit my kiddo and I hard and fast. Finally back to  normal…whatever THAT is. And…back to writing… ~n~

He was standing outside of her door. Her feet were tangled in her sheets, and her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. Her mouth was dry, her hands trembled as she tried to untangle herself.

She finally kicked herself free and stood for a moment, adjusting the hard metal belt that nestled snugly between her thighs. Her pussy throbbed, mimicking her racing heart.

He was standing outside her door.

Her phone chimed and she reached back to her pillow for it.

Well, are you going to let me in, or should I be making other plans for the day?” She grinned. Even his texts sounded impatient.

“Imcumg”  she replied.

“That has yet to be determined…”

She shook her head, smiling. Equilibrium returned with the laughter. Pausing in the living room, she realized that she was only wearing the belt. Had she ever answered the door naked before?, she wondered, before unlatching the lock and opening the door a crack.

“Hi,” she said, feeling shy suddenly,  all but hiding behind the portal.

“May I enter?”

His eyeball peered through the crack, his tone dry, but edged with his typical impatience.

“Yes, yes, sure. Sorry.”

She pulled the door open, still standing behind it. The awkward feeling, mixed with embarrassment.

“Are you coming out from there, or should I go?”

For a moment, just a second, she wanted to say ‘go’. The door was tugged away from her hand, closed softly. A finger lifted her chin.

“Cold….feet?” he said, one finger flicking her nipple.

“I…uhm…”

“Kat.”

“Mmmm?”

“Look at me.”

“Can’t.”

“Won’t, more to the point. Up here, girl.”

His finger now tapped her nose, and rather firmly at that. Her eyes popped up to meet his. Though she wanted to melt into the carpet, he held her just there, just with those steely blue-gray eyes of his.

“Tell me what’s running through that head of yours.”

It was not a request and she recognized that instantly. It was full-Dom voice, and coupled with that look, she found herself stammering a reply.

“I..well, it’s…I’m..”

Taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he pulled her across the floor. It was move quickly or have it torn from her breast; she moved. Little squealing sounds came from her, but he ignored them. Sitting on her sofa, he pulled her down, hard and fast, across his lap.

She squealed one final time as his fingers snapped off her now tender nip.  A hand pressed against the back of her head, another across the small of her back, and somehow she was laying ass up while the metal band of the chastity belt she still wore ground into her waist.

The hand on her head remained, the other hand began attacking her ass. Blow after blow, varying in intensity, keeping her wiggly on his legs.  She yelped. She yelled. She squirmed, and moaned, and gasped. The pain was burning through her, not just her ass, but burning through embarrassment, and tension. Finally  everything simply drained from her. Limply she lay over him, her body trembling, her ass hot and throbby.

The hand on her head gathered a fistful of hair, pulled her up and off with it. Her mouth opened in a low moan as she knelt at his feet, his hair-wrapped hand  holding her close, keeping her steady. Her breathing was deeper now, no longer the fitful gasps of near-panic as had been the case only moments before when she’d opened the door to him.

“Better?”

He looked at her intently, his eyes just burning into hers. Her head moved fractionally, until he nodded it more vigorously with that hank of hair.

“Say thank you Sir”

“T-thank you….Sir,” she whispered.  He pulled her closer, until she was nestled between his thighs.

“No more shyness?”

“no, Sir.”

“You’re a very silly slut.”

“Well…I am…uh…well….you know…”

Her eyes fell again, then lifted when the fist in her hair tightened.

“Am…what, precisely?”

naked”

“What? I didn’t seem to hear that teeny tiny voice of yours. Which is especially shocking coming from you. For even the short time of our acquaintance, I’ve never known you to be so faint of heart nor voice.”

He could feel that switch again, as she moved from bashful to irked. Good. She needed pushing. He continued, aiming his words like tiny darts. They were meant to get her dander up.

“Always so sure of yourself, and here you are, all wimpy and mewling at my feet. I must say, I’m surprised. So much for all that blustery bravado.”

Her eyes shot up.

“I was NOT blustering. I’m brave, damn you! But right now, I’m naked”.

“N A K E D.”

She was not quite shouting when she repeated herself.  But her dander was up, and the shyness was gone. How dare he call her a…a wimp. 

“And …you’re not.”

She pointed at him, plucking at his jeans.

“And…and…well, I was just feeling a bit of NORMAL nervousness. Which SOME Doms would be gentle and caring about.”

“I am always gentle and caring. Didn’t you feel  tenderness as I slapped your ass?”

“That was NOT tender. Tender-izing, maybe. But tender? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Well, I suppose I could have started with the cane. Perhaps you should be shown the difference between tender and…not so tender?”

His smile, those eyes. She shuddered as a fresh gush of lust surged through her. He was a bastard, because she knew that he knew what he was doing to her. Making her not feel shy.

And turning her on.

“Are you going to take this archaic thing off me?” She plucked at the belt around her waist.

“No.”

“Now wait…you didn’t even stop to think about your answer…it just…just spurted out of your mouth! That’s just really ….bastardy… of you.”

“I do believe you’re changing the subject. And we’ve already discussed that I’m a bastard.”

“What subject was that?”

“Pick one. There have been several already.  The “should I use the cane” subject perhaps? or better yet, the naked subject. That oh-so-pitiful ‘i’m naked and you’re not‘ subject. Tsk. Really?”

He let a fair amount of derision flow through his voice. She was nearly there. Nearly.

“Well, ah, do correct me if I’m wrong but I AM naked. And you are NOT naked. So we’re on totally unequal footing here.”

His head cocked, his eyes danced, even as the tiny upward quirk of his lips foretold some awful damn Dom comment. Damn him for looking so fucking sexy while doing his best Bastard act. Then again, it likely wasn’t an act at all.

“Little girl, did you ever even remotely assume that there would be equal footing here?”

He threw back his head and laughed.  She punched him. Not too hard. But right there in his guffawing belly, oh yes, she planted one on him. He stopped laughing. He looked at her in something akin to shock.

“You so totally deserved that.”

“In East Bumfuck, do submissives routinely beat on their Doms?” His tone was bland, deceptively so.

“Well, no. But…we’ve yet to determine if you are my Dom. I know,” she held up a hand to forestall him, even though she was still sitting at his feet, his hand still tight in her tresses.

“I know you’re a Dom…that’s more than a little evident. Last night notwithstanding, and this fucking thing,” she said, her fingers tapping the metal band. “I said I wanted to fuck you…but now I’m wearing this and you’re acting all Dommish, and, well, I don’t know the rules. You don’t know my limits. And I’m confused.”

She paused, then placed her hands on his thighs, rising up on her knees to put her face closer to his.

“And horny. You’ve made me incredibly, unbelievably horny. And I didn’t think I’d ever want to be this way with a Dominant man again. Yet here I am. And if you don’t fuck me soon, I could die of the wanting.”

“There you are. Was that so hard, little one?”

She looked at him.

“You confuse me! Was what so hard?”

“To admit to yourself that you want me. To understand fully that I do want you. And to understand that I won’t fuck you until we come to an understanding. Ergo, your belt. It stops temptation in both of us, you know.”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t…I mean…” she paused, gathering her thoughts. She was so confused! And gods, so horny too!

“I told you last night I wanted you…”

“You weren’t ready. That was lust. Hormones. Not a thinking reaction. Yes. We played. And play can be fun and stimulating…and non-sexual. You can be turned on, and I can be turned on, and still not have sex. For some, that is the fun. The denial, the wanting, but not the getting. You needed time to think through this, and not just let lust carry you away.”

“Your spanking turned me on.”

“The spanking was to settle you. To stop your panic. To give you a different sort of release.”

“Yeah, but I really need the other kind of release, too!”

Hearing the almost-whine in her voice, he smiled.

“And I don’t mind that, not at all. Your delayed gratification is very…gratifying to me.”

She actually growled. Then, unexpectedly, arched up on her arms, hands braced on his thighs, and planted a kiss on him, one that could have melted concrete. He was really glad he’d left the key at home on his dresser. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction when he told her. Eventually.

 

 

 

 

Hired! ~11~

Time moved, she was certain of it. Yet she couldn’t say if 5 minutes had passed, or 50. She felt the warm leather of his crop between her thighs, and wished he were there to use it on her. She was needy, uncomfortable, and half naked for crissakes! Facing the rustic wooden wall, her tits and ass exposed, she was flushed with embarrassment. Eventually even that faded during those interminable, unknown minutes. Behind her she could hear people moving around the cavernous room. She could hear those who were otherwise engaged in play. There were slaps and *tings* of implements striking flesh, closely followed by shockingly loud screams as the recipient responded. There were moans and whimpers and the sounds of those in deepest ecstasy.

What she didn’t hear was his footfall. No sound of those beautifully polished shoes coming towards her. How was this even a date, she wondered, feeling suddenly angry. It happened that way sometimes, the submission and the annoyance jockeying for position in her emotions. Her hands felt numb, and her back was tiring when she felt the warmth of hands on her back…and ass.

“Ohh, poor kitten…he left you here all alone and unattended,” crooned a sexy and female voice. “So pretty, this round ass of yours..” the voice trailed off as a long fingernail scratched lightly down her crack and circled her anus. There was a slight tug around her throat as the ends of the tie were pulled taut for a moment, before more fingernails scrabbled down her spine. She wasn’t sure if it was the lack of his attention, or just that those sharp fingernails hit the line between pleasure and pain. The voice continued, the owner clearly knowing that she was having an affect on the tied submissive. One nail trailed up and over her left ass cheek, scratching just hard enough to leave a thin, red line there. Goosebumps rose along her shoulders, her arms, and her nipples crinkled tightly.

“I–I’m waiting for him, t-to…” she stopped on a gasp as the fingernails pinched a piece of flesh where her ass and thighs met.

“I know, that hurts so much, doesn’t it honey?” The voice was husky now, clearly lapping up the subtle signs of pain;  Kat’s arching back, her in-drawn breath, the short pants as she released it against the hurting.

The pinch seemed to last an hour. The relief when the nails released her was nearly as intense as the pain had been, as was the sudden surge of moisture between her thighs.

“Mona,” a deep voice said, the tone admonishing. “Didn’t MamaLa have a conversation with you about poaching?”

There was a pouty “mmm” of sullen agreement.  “But Dirk…! You weren’t here. She looked so lonely, the poor thing. And there was that very pretty ass just begging to be touched..how could I resist?

“Resist,” he replied drolly.

“I’m resisting… authority…” she said with a husky chuckle.”Okay, fine, have it your way, you big greedy bastard.”

The soft sound of her feet moving off gave some measure of peace to Kat.

“You left me,” she accused. Her hair had fallen forward, obscuring her vision.

“Yeah, so?”

He moved beside her, then freed her arms from the iron ring on the wall. Though she tried to hold back the gasp, the blood flowing back to her hands and cramped shoulders made being silent impossible.

“Oh, owww,” she whimpered.

“Poor little kitty cat,” he mocked, all falsely sympathetic as he brushed the hair from her face. He leaned close, kissed her top lip, nipped at her eyebrow. She moaned again. damn him. The last semblance of her snark was fading fast, under a hot and heavy need. She wondered if she’d ever been so horny. Feeling his hands on her breasts, she tried to move closer, but was surprised to feel the fabric of her dress being tugged back up to cover her. In moments he had slid the crop from between her thighs, then pulled down the hem of her dress, covering her bottom. She blinked at him, not comprehending his game.

Taking the tie from around her neck, he bound her wrists, then led her by the trailing length of his tie across the room. They paused for a moment to watch a submissive. Her face was a portrait of beautiful agony as her master nailed her tits to a rough wooden board. Katherine shuddered at the thought of it, but the woman was obviously far gone in subspace. She could see the puddle forming on the floor between her legs; it was obviously a kink that worked for them.

“Interested?” he asked, pulling her attention from the scene.

“No,” she replied. His grin was devilish, managing to be both mocking and humorous. Only a Dom would find that sort of thing funny, she mused. By damn he was one sexy bastard when he smiled. And when he didn’t. 

Damn.

She was hooked.

He tugged her “leash” and she was obliged to follow him. He slowed to watch a leather-clad woman bullwhip a burly man. His cock was locked in a cage, his nipples cruelly pegged. As he shuddered beneath a snapping blow, she clearly saw the back end of a plug up his bum. It made her wet, which surprised her. His cock twitched with every whip-stroke, and she felt an answering tingle in her clit.

“You seem very…interested,” he said in a low voice.

“He’s…amazing. So is she,” she replied, equally quiet.

“Mistress Dominica is a master of the whip. Shall I sign you up for one of her classes?”

She couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not, so she shook her head.

“If you’re sure…” his voice trailed off as the sub roared out a yell when the tip of the whip hit just near his balls. “Well, that had to hurt,” he said, cupping a hand over his groin and making her almost giggle out loud.

“Stop,” she hissed, but she grinned as he made a faux scared face at her, still cupping himself. He tugged her onward.

She frowned as they left the play room, entering the bar. What the hell was he up to now?

*************************

Not only had he ushered her through the bar and outside, but he’d led her to his car, all but shoved her in, hands still tied, and belted her safety belt. He’d driven her home with no conversation whatsoever, which made her curious. Her tits were tender from his earlier slap-fest, but her clit pounded like it was a gong.

She needed to be fucked. She needed to cum. She wanted.

Wanted.

Damn him for stirring her up like this. She fidgeted in her seat. She caught just the faintest hint of a grin on his mouth; no, not even a grin, just the sexy upturn on one corner.

“Where are we going?”

The smile deepened. Thank gods above and below, she thought. He’s taking me home to fuck me there. 

He pulled into her driveway, parked, then came around to let her out. Releasing her hands, he slipped the tie loosely around her neck. Arm around her back, he led her upstairs, took her key and opened her door. Stepping inside, she all but threw herself at him, pulling his head down and kissing him fervently.

He tugged her dress down, then off. Helping her step free of it, he held up his hand to forestall her.

“Go to the bathroom.”

“Now?” she all but moaned.

“No, tomorrow. Yes, of course now. Do you  need me to assist you? Watch you?”

“Oh hell no!” 

She scurried to the bathroom, used the toilet quickly. Looking at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands, she noted the bruises already blushing along her breasts.  She felt weak in the knees. Oh gods, she so needed this.

He was leaning against the dining room wall, pulling the tie absently through his fingers. Shyly she walked towards him, she naked as the day she was born, he, so well dressed in his suit. Straightening, he gestured to her to come.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the floor in front of him. “Good girl, now turn.”

She presented her back to him as instructed. What was coming? Her heart was all fluttery in her chest, her nipples grew taut. When he tapped her inner thigh, she spread her feet wider. She felt something between her thighs…the cool silk of his tie. He pulled it forward and back, teasing her clit for a moment.

“Hold the ends,” he said, and she took them, one in front, one behind, holding them. It took all her willpower to not rub it against her clit, but he hadn’t indicated to do so, and she didn’t want to push it.

“I picked this up at the club, while watching your delightful ass from across the room. Several of my friends were hoping that I’d share you, you know. You made such a pretty picture there, vulnerable, yet wanting.”

The shiver of need ran up and down her spine. A fresh drool from her pussy was soaked up by his tie.

“But I declined. After all, you and I hardly know one another. 13 working days, and one evening run-in hardly qualifies as getting to know you, right?”

She nodded, glad he hadn’t shared her. So wrapped up in the thoughts of that, that she didn’t notice at first, the heavy metal belt he fastened around her waist.

“Open wider, slut.”

Her legs spread, and a thick metal spine was pressed against her pussy. She jolted at the chill of it. There was a click at her backside. His fingers slid under the front of the band.

“Your pussy is so fucking hot,” he murmured. “Wet, juicy, I’ll bet you need to cum, don’t you?”

“oh, yesss,” she moaned, pressing against his probing fingers. Then they were gone, and a second click sealed the band firmly between her legs.

“No cumming tonight, I’m afraid.”

He lifted his fingers to her mouth.

“Taste that. Taste that needy cunt juice. Yours, little girl. Your needy cunt is going to leak all night, I’m afraid. I’ll be back in the morning to release you so that you can pee.”

He slid the tie from under the crotch band as she stared in shock at him.

“Wait…what? What?? YOU….you…you can’t… ” she yelped. “I…I need….”

“..to wait until I decide it’s time for you to come. Just…be careful what you wish for, little girl. I am a sadist, after all.”

He tied her wrists quickly with the tie, binding them firmly but not so tight that it would be harmful.

“Tonight you will sleep, smelling your arousal all night long. Your pussy will ache and weep and …eventually, you will sleep, and dream of all the wonderful, awful, delightful torments I will do to you.”

He kissed her on her nose, then pushed her into her room, closed the door. Quietly, he let himself out of the apartment, heaving a deep sigh. His cock throbbed. He patted his crotch as he jogged down the steps.

“Soon, my raging friend. Soon.”

His cock knew it would not be soon enough for either of them.

He Returns with a Vengence

After many months of vanilla with M and I…

which isn’t to say that we’ve not talked and texted…but no D/s…

suddenly out of the blue, He’s back.

He sent me a text last night that I need to wear my nipple clamps for 22 minutes a day. At work. (Except for tonight, since it’s a Holiday. Which kind of makes me giggle but then again, I am a sick fuck. 😀 So instead I am wearing them while I write to you all about these epic changes! )

And it’s fine,  because I mostly work alone. But still. Then I’m supposed to wear a butt plug on Friday…but I can’t find them! I think I remember him taking them after our last playtime. I just know they aren’t here.  So…I can’t do that Friday task. Still waiting to see his solution for that.

My gods. My nipples hurt! I’m pegged now, and I’ve forgotten how much “virginal nipples” ache when clamped. I like it, don’t get me wrong, but man oh man !! OUCH!

Then I find my phone and I have yet another text from the Dom.

“BTW, nilla,  no playing with yourself until I get some satisfaction from your torture.”

Waaaait.

Whaaaa?

I’m staring at my phone in shock, horror, and okay, total awe at the awesomeness that is my Master.

Holy hell, I’m hot. I’m bothered. I’m turned on and alive and …where the fuck did this come from? Waaaay outta left field, pervie peeps. I mean, we’ve been in vanilla mode for a looooooong time.

And okay, perhaps, maybe, possibly I’ve stalled a bit on setting up a playtime. I can own up to that. I’m busy and I didn’t really think I was a priority for him. I know he loves to beat me, but he’s busy too, so I figured business dealings took my place. Work fills my needs…and I guessed that his did the same. Maybe even moreso.

So, yeah, go ahead. Sue me for being all “whatever”  about playtime.

And hell, the weather up here in the frozen north has NOT been conducive to meet-ups, and the 36 hours we were above freezing were spent working at a fever pitch to get outside things attended to before the temps came crashing down. I don’t think my blow-up Santa Claus will ever be quite the same…he was hard-frozen by the ice storm, then pelted into the ground with 15 inches of snow! I’ve had clients out the ass (see what I did there?!) and more work that I can handle, and and and…

Well he’s changed things up, because…suddenly, planning for a playtime with my Tormentor is becoming a necessity.

Did I mention how absolutely horny I am now?

He has gone from zero to 85 in a heartbeat. I’m not sure *my* heart can keep up. I’m all fuddled and ‘whoa’ and…and did I mention that as I write this,  my nipples hurt? Well, they do! And my pussy aches. And I want.

No.

I. WANT.

Suddenly I’m starving for something I haven’t had in so long, almost like wanting fresh-from-the-tree cherries… in January. Like those cherries, I’ve been out of season. I’ve been frozen just like my blow up Santa Claus.

But magically, there’s been a thaw -a Master Thaw – and that’s cracked my ice, cleaved it neatly in two, and the boiling needs have thrust their way up and out. I may never get them put back.

Oh gods, the slut is out. The slut is loose. She …me…I…crave Him. Crave His pain. Crave His sadism, His lust, His desires. I’ll be the recipient of His slapping hands, His biting teeth, His pinching and clamping and smacking. I need it more than mere words can express.

I can’t believe I forgot how much I need this side of Him.

So for now, I’ll be clamped…and horny…and wanton…and looking desperately  for time to be with Master, and get the full-on beating I’ve been promised.

I’ve missed my Dom. I’m glad He’s back, glad he’s still that mean, tormenting Bastard that I adore.

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PS I forgot how much these fuckers hurt when you take them off….*moans*…

Sex Police

Whoa! Oh my, the things i dream about when i’m taking nyquill…! ~n~

She sat watching the flashing blues pull tight behind her. Her fingers twisted nervously on the steering wheel of her car. What had she done, she wondered? She’d been driving the speed limit, her car had just passed inspection last week, and there was no one else on the road except for her.

“Lower your car window.”

She complied instantly.

“Step out of the car.”  Looking up at him through the window, all she saw was unsmiling lips and mirrored glasses.

“O-oh, okay,” she said, her voice quivering just a bit. She had nothing to hide, but who didn’t get the nervous butterflies when being pulled over by the law?

Her fingers shook as she released her seat belt and opened the door.

“Hands against the the door. Grip over the open window frame.”

When she hesitated, he pushed her forward, pressing her hands over the curved edge. He tugged her hips back until she was partly bent over. His booted foot kicked her legs wider.

“You haven’t had sex in over a year.”

Oh. Oh! So that’s what this was about. How had she forgotten the law that a female had to copulate at least once a calendar year? Fucking government! First they controlled her reproduction, now they actually controlled her sex!

“I…no. My boyfriend left …”

“Save it. You know there are repercussions. There are agencies out there to aid in that. When we’re done here I’ll give you a pamphlet with all the contact information.”

“Oh…please officer. Please. I’ll take the pamphlet now and get on it right away…”

“It’s too late, you’re more than a little overdue. I’m here to rectify that for you.”

He laughed a dry laugh and she knew instantly what was going to happen to her.

“Please, please no, please Officer, please.”

“I like it when my charges beg.”

She whimpered.

His hands lifted her skirt, baring her ass to the late evening air. A car slowed as it passed.

“UNFUCKED BITCH!” someone yelled, throwing a half-full soda bottle in their direction. The cap was off and her leg was splashed by the dark, sticky drink.

“Move along,” the cop said firmly, not even turning from his duty. There was the sound of wheels scraping through sand, and it gunned off. Then there was silence, and the feeling of his hands running over her ass.

Into the silence, she heard him pull It from the sheath. The sound of metal on metal was grating.

“This will only hurt a little. It’s self-lubricating. Be a good girl and push that ass back now.”

She shook her head, crying openly.

“P-p-please…officer please…”

Warm metal pressed against her cunt lips. Without a moments hesitation, he pushed it fully inside of her. She moaned, a deep sound of misery. A pair of thick rubber-like straps attached to each inner thigh to keep the huge metal beast inside of her.

She tried to move, found herself locked in stasis. She cried out as she felt it quiver inside of her. His fingers moved over her mound. There was a slight pinch, then a vibration against her clit.

“The mini-vibe will help get you over the hump,” he said with a chuckle. There was no humor in the laughter, only the sound of pleasure. “You can struggle all you want, but the billy-cock will hold you immobile.”

Her fingers locked on the window frame, her body bent and ready to receive her punishment could attest to the immobility. In her mind she was struggling, but her only movement was the involuntary quivers from her cunt, and the tears she cried silently.

“Now, because you tried to weasel your way out of your punishment,” he said, his voice sly, “I’m going to add to it.”

His hands slipped up and opened her blouse, tugging her tits free of the no-nonsense bra she was wearing. Pinching and tugging at her nipples forced them to tighten. Once they were hard, he fished in his pocket, and produced a pair of clamps. He dangled them in front of her.

“These will remind you to be a good girl in the future and have your annual fucking taken care of properly.”

He fixed a clamp on her nipple. She cried out at the shocking pain. The other nipple was clamped, and then a sudden surge rippled through them.

“They’ll keep shocking your tits while you’re being opened,” he said, his hands mauling her breasts, which were suddenly alive with sensations. It hurt, but there was also a new feeling quivering through her.

“There you go,” he murmured. “There’s your first. There will be many more, you know. Eighteen months. Tsk. You have been a naughty girl.”

She wanted to explain, but the words stayed locked inside of her.  What good would it do. When did her sex become public property? Her body arched as a second orgasm rippled through her.

“Good. Now you’re ready for the rest of your punishment.”

With the vibe on her clit, and the heavy metal phallus inside of her she was lost in a steady roll of orgasms. But she screamed when his cock pierced her ass.

There was a slam of a car door.

“I love it when they scream,” said the cop to someone walking up behind them.

“If she screamed when your dick went in, wait till she feels mine,” the other voice laughed. His partner. Of course. Cops always traveled as a duo. She did speak then, begging and crying even as another orgasm caused her to squirt down her leg.

“A wet one,” the other cop observed dispassionately. His hand lifted her face.

“This is what happens when you break the law miss. The law has to break you.”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she came again.

 

Cum a Cane?

She shook her head as the cane fell across the bottom of her foot. The tug against her anus was immediate, reminding her of the ball-ended hook inserted there, and tightly tied to her ponytail. He lashed at her foot again. Her back arched, and she shrieked around the bright red ball between her lips. A pop of air allowed the drool that had pooled in her mouth to squirt out, and dribble down her chin.

He struck her again and her toes curled as the pain began to throb dully. All of her attention was focused on the streaks of white-hot pain across her aching foot. Again the cane lashed out, her calf took the blow and she jolted with the unexpected slash. Again her head was tugged, her ass burning at the repeated thrusts from her contortions. If she could stay still it would not hurt in so many places, she knew it. He’d said as much to her at the beginning.

He had known she would break. *whap! whap! whap!* The cane hit hard against her ass, then her calf, and her other foot. Her head tossed around, her back arching and twisting. The pain came in waves, the bright slashes of pain from his hand, the torque on her hair, the repeated movement of  the hook buried in her shitter.

His hand stroked over her hip and she crooned deep in her throat, but the quick slap of the reedy wood where his hand had gently touched was perverse. Kind and mean in equal measure, she knew he would be smiling now, watching the lines grow; she felt them rising, felt the hot red lines bursting from her smooth skin.

She wanted to touch them.

Later she’d admire the bruises, and remembering, would masturbate to the memory of the pain. But for now she would endure.

Three hard taps, sole, heel, toes, brought her back to pain. Behind the gag, she grit her teeth, then screamed as the blows moved on, up her thigh to her hip, across her ass. He body burned, and imagined flames ripped along the path of the hated toy.

Again she arched, whinnied, tossed her head, groaned at the pain. His voice came from somewhere, nowhere, in front or behind her.

“Cum. Cum for me, painslut. Cum for me you little whore.”

The dance of the cane was audible, around his words. The rushing whoosh of it though the air, the sharp crack of it against her skin. Her feet took more of the blows, each strike an explosion of needle-like pain. Her asshole clenched on the intruding hook, the ball teasing her guts with every writhing movement.

With a sighing quiver, her body clenched down, gathering pain and exploded.

She woke, cradled against him, his cock buried in her cunt. It was the best way to come back from beyond. His hairy legs rubbed all the sore swollen welts, and she trembled with the need to cum.

He whispered in her ear.

“Greedy little cunt. Cum.”

She complied, instantly.

Cumming

He stood looking down at her, an older, silver-haired man. He looked distinguised. His hair was combed tidily, his beard and mustache neatly groomed. His eyes, the color of deep honey, crinkled at the corners from many smiles. He looked classy.  Cultured. And yet she knew better. That face was a mask, for under the mask lay a monster. A tremor shook her violently, her body arching and her mind torn from thoughts of her tormentor.

“You wanted to cum. Remember, slut?”

His voice cut through the lingering shudders. Her wrists and ankles were already pinkened from straining at the bonds that held her spread upon the bed. She refused to answer, or couldn’t, it was hard to say at this point. Dispassionately he looked at her heaving chest, her tits still quivering from the force of the orgasm. Her nipples, once they’d been pinched hard by his fingers, were clamped now, weighted and tugged to the side of her body with her convulsive movements. Likewise, her cuntlips were spread, grabbed by clamps, and taped to her inner thighs to allow the fat-headed super vibe to press up against her innermost flesh, torturing her clit and pussy.

She shook her head at long last.

“Ah, but you did. When I came home last night, after sending you messages to edge yourself, what did I find but my slut, sprawled in the bed asleep, her cunt soaked. Why my dear, the very bed you’re laying upon betrayed you, soaked from your sated pussy.  I was very disappointed that your desires came before mine. Yet, for some reason, I feel the deep need for compassion here, and let you have what you wanted so desperately.”

He paused, leaning forward and flicking the buzzing vibe to high. She jerked in response to the sudden intensity, her head shaking back and forth, her mouth trying to say what sounded like ‘no’.

“The ball gag distorts your words so badly, my sweet horny slut. I’m sure you said ‘more’ right?”

Moving across the room to his toy chest, he removed a fat anal plug. She tried to see what he was doing, but another orgasm snatched thought from her mind as her body shimmied and jerked.

“Here you go, slut.”

He squirted lube over her pussy. It leaked downward, around the pressing head, making her contact with the device even more intense. When she felt the press of the plug against her ass, she knew that all that had transpired previously was just the warm up. She yelped as her butthole was filled, as he clicked the vibe on. The screeeeeetch of the duct tape roll he was fond of made her shake her head harder, but he ignored her again, and taped the ass vibe into her.

Two fingers slipped in and out of her cunt, making her moan. Felt so good to have him inside, but they moved out and away. He rubbed the juice of her fuck hole on her belly, slapping the soft, round skin there.

Again she arched, her body rocked by waves of pleasure, then waves of over-stimulation. So sensitive, she longed to scream out, but the gag held the pleading words inside her head.

“Aah. You must be so happy that you came again. Horny slut. What is that now? 10? 12? I’m afraid I’ve lost count. Oh.”

He tugged his phone from his pocket.

“I’m afraid I have to take this.  I’ll go into the kitchen so I won’t disturb your orgasms. The camera will record them for me so that I can watch them later. While I’m fucking your ass. I’ll be back in a while. No more than an hour, I think. Happy cumming, slut.”

With a wicked smile, he left the room, as she kicked and wriggled through another orgasm. From the hall she heard his ‘business voice’ as he took the call.

“Hello? Sure, hi. Oh, no not to worry. I wasn’t doing anything that I couldn’t interrupt.”

She came again, crying with the pleasure, and sobbing with the pain.

Hurts…So Much, So Good

I am an aching, bruised mess.

My hair is mussed. Tied into tangles and knots it will take a deep conditioning to untangle. Seriously…it was soooo bad when he finally let me up off the bed, that I looked like I’d been electrocuted! Long hair scrubbed all over the damn bed makes for one powerful, somewhat terrifying case of bedhead!

My body hurts, just about everyplace you can imagine. (And I know you all have wonderful imaginations!)

He spanked me long and hard. I felt the tension ease away, even as the pain built. He spanked my ass multiple times through the day, then later near the end of playtime, my pussy.

And oh, the pussy smacking. It was brutal and hard. The harder he attacked my cunt, the closer the intense need grew. I came just from that. He called me a cunt over it, and laughed. It still surprised him that I orgasm from having my pussy beaten. And not once. Twice, my pervie peeps.

Well, actually. Uhm…(maybe he’s right and I really AM  cunt?!)

Okay, three times.

And after that third time, he pushed me down, pinning me and roughly finger fucked me to many, many more orgasms. Until I moaned at the slightest touch on my poor battered girl bits.

And then he did it again.

Now i sit, a slut filled with pain- from throbbing cunt to aching ass, from battered tits to pinched and bitten arms and shoulders. Exhausted. Used up. Made to cum too many times to count, made to scream and cry and whimper as he slapped the fuckity fuck right out of me.

Okay, he tried. I was still impudent, wildly silly, and at times, a growly beast with him. (To his utter delight!)

There are many stories to tell, but for now, this very tired, very sore slut is going to bed.

And smiling.

 

 

 

Admonished (again!)

If you’ve been reading here any amount of time you’ve likely heard me talk about “Like Day.” The evolution of the day isn’t so important just now, just the information that this is the one day that I get an Orgasm. Yup, just one lonely orgasm a week.

This past week, He didn’t have me do anything torturous the night before as he has had me do in the past. I was coming off of my cold/illness, and he was, well, feeling benevolent. Because I was out of commission most of the prior week, and playing catch-up from the weekend onward. I never got to bed Tuesday evening until 11:45 p.m. which, even for me, is ungodly late.

I should back up a bit, tell you about the Like Day rules.

  • There is only one orgasm allowed no matter how weak it is.
  • There is only Tuesday night to have the O…there is no “oh it’s midnight I’m good” on Monday, nor is there “oh, it’s midnight, I’m good on Tuesday.
  • There is only that window of time from when I go to bed Tuesday UNTIL midnight Tuesday to have my orgasm.

Knowing these long-time rules, I stared at my clock. Oh. Fuck.

fuckity fuckity fuck

How the hell am I going to get settled in bed with my toys AND get off with (now) 13 minutes left until midnight?? I wasn’t desperate for the O, since there’d been no teasing of the pussy the night before, no edging, no pain, nada. I knew I’d only get so close, and have to stop. The odds of coming before the clock struck 12? Insurmountable. Added to that, the cough medicine I take at night makes it even harder to come. Dammit! It’s a conundrum. I decide to not go for it, to text M, and lay it out for him.

That is exactly what I did, yet in the morning, judging by his response? None of this mattered.

Not to Himself. Nu-uh.

My text was very logical.  Gave him all the reasons why there was no way I could take my orgasm. It was the first thing he read in the morning, and I should have known that something would come of it. Can we just agree that sometimes I’m oblivious?

I was completely gobsmacked when I got his text while at work later that afternoon.

It said that missing my Like Day O would earn me the punishment of two half-O’s to be completed Thursday evening.

I gasped, and muttered “what????” as I reeled in my head over this. We’d been texting all day and there was not a hint of punishment. Not a whiff.

“When did THIS become a rule?” I said in my reply text.

“Just now.” He shot back.

Yet “what” that was the first thing I screeched  said when he answered the phone as I drove home later that evening.

“WHAT??” I’m not a soprano, but I’m sure my tone was far from submissive, and definitely in the upper ranges of sound.

The deep, silky smooth tone of his reply should have warned me. He’d been thinking Dom thoughts all day since he’d read my midnight text. This, oh this is a dangerous thing. And hot. Did I mention how fucking hot he is when he is in full Dom mode? It always catches me up, a surprise, not unwelcome, but still a shock when it happens.  So much of the time we’re just two friends talking on the phone. But then there are those times…and Wednesday was one of them…when he is…full-on Master, and I feel exactly as if I were standing in the room, in the corner, with Him behind me.

“Your Like Day orgasm is a gift, nilla. A gift from me, to you.”

There is a pause. I know not to speak, and he is holding me in suspense. After each sentence, there is a meaningful pause.

“When you ignore my gift, that’s a problem.”

“Problems need correction. you need correction.”

He stops. There are no more words. I’m reeling in shock. I never considered, from his point of view, how it would look for me to squander his gift, throw it back in his face, essentially, though he didn’t put it that way directly.

There is like…45 seconds of silence from my end.

“Nilla…? Hellowww? M to nilla……”

My mouth opens and closes and yet no words come out. Finally I stutter out…

“i..I….uhm……….yes…yes Sir.”

“Good,” He says. I hear the satisfaction in that word. He knows he’s got me right where I’m supposed to be, the place  I forget to be sometimes, when the vanilla life is full upon me.

I’m not the business woman then.

I’m not the mom then.

I’m his slut, his.

I remember, in a flash of intense memory in this split second, his hand grabbing my cunt, squeezing it hard, making me whine and whimper as I lay half-under him. He is looking down at me, his tawny eyes so fierce. He growls at me, his voice low and intense and hungry.

“This. Is. MY. pussy. M I N E.”

His words, his ferocity, made me shudder with joy and love and pain and the intense thrill of being wanted that much. Such an amazing memory, recalled with his one word response to my remorse.

“Good.”

His sexy, whiskey-warm voice, that one word, that “good” flashed me back to our play-time memory, of being fully claimed as His.  I’m right back in that headspace, sitting in my car, driving home from work.

Connected. Redirected.

Contrite.

And happy to be owned by such a devious, mean, and delightful M who cares enough to send the very best….and punish me when I forget it.

I am (as he often reminds me) a very lucky slut.

😀

 

Punishment update:

I had until Thursday morning, for this first infraction, to decide the punishment I must submit to. I can do the two half-o’s on Thursday and have my next Like Day O next week.Or I can forgo my next TWO Like Day O’s and have no further punishment.

I really hate half-o’s. (Conversely, they are uber hawt, too, right??)

But I really REALLY hate the thought of 3 weeks with NO O!…

Oh dear. It’s a dilemma. What would YOU choose? 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday Texting, In Which He Totally Cracks Me Up

Master was away much of the weekend, and our texting time was very limited. Yet in only a few words, He can utterly destroy any pique I’m feeling, and transmogrify it into humor. And yes, I was feeling more than a bit grumpy about M’s new “use it or lose it” policy regarding my Tuesday orgasm opportunity….

 

me:  Do you realize that it’s been 13 days since I last had an orgasm Master?     (In reference to the fact that I fell asleep last Tuesday before I could snag my weekly O…)

M: Forget about the orgasms…you need to focus on staying awake.

 

(Hysterical laughter from my car as I read this to myself)