Hired! ~19~

AT LAST! This has been in the works for a while…but you know how things go sometimes!  Between life stuff and playtime with M, this sat dormant for the better part of a week.  My thanks for being patient peeps. Here’s the link to the prior chapter in case you need a quick review: HERE ~n~ 

His connector flight to NYC was delayed twice. Though he smiled at the simpering fool who explained that they could not take off during thunderstorms, her smile faded when she saw the look in his eyes. He was glad that she could see the anger crawling up his spine like an animal ready to spring forth and steal her life. Just another thing his stupid cunt would have to atone for once he finally tracked her down. He shoved the anger deeper, and took the shuttle to the hotel where the fucking airlines were putting people up tonight.

Another night away wouldn’t matter much. At least, until he made her pay for it with her skin.

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

“Good girl,” he crooned, holding her head against his chest. Inhaling deeply against the pain in her still-throbbing nipples, she smelled the various scents of him. Peppermint from the gum he favored, the last spicy hints of his deodorant, and that musky scent that is peculiar to the male body. He tantalized her. Even now she could feel her arousal in the throbbing of her clit, and the slick dew that spilled from the belt pulled tightly  between her thighs.

He pushed her away, and pointed to the mattress. At some point he’d taken a sheet down from the shelf and tossed it there.

“Spread that out on the mattress,” he said, nodding towards the folded sheet.

“Uh, my hands are behind my back and tied, remember?”

He smirked.

“You’re doing the smirk-face thing again. That’s not very dommy.”

“Doms are allowed to smirk, and as a matter of fact, we do it quite a lot.”

“Well, I don’t understan….wait. You expect me to spread that without my hands? How the fuck…”

“You have a perfectly good mouth. I see it moving allll the time. I suggest you put it to use. Other than sucking my cock…for now.” He grinned at her face, sitting there open-mouthed.

He constantly surprised her. That something so mundane would be offered…and yet he knew it would embarrass her to be crawling around almost naked, since her bra was not even under her tits anymore. They’d be flopping around, her ass would be wagging around…the jerkness. 

“That’s…”

“Humbling? Awww, too bad. Get going slut.”

“Is this a task? Is it helping me earn the key?”

“Well, not doing it isn’t going to get us to the next point now, is it?”

His look was implacable. HE wasn’t going to budge. With a frown, she flounced over the the mattress, and spent considerable minutes trying to pick up, and then open, the folded sheet. Her bum was wagging around and she could feel him watching her, but she steadfastly refused to look at him. Finally, after an agony of minutes spent squirming and writhing across the mattress, she groaned. She wanted to give up, but damn him! She absolutely would not. Casting a quick glance his way, she saw him looking intently at her, making her flush with embarrassment. Picking up the sheet quickly she pulled it up to the top corner of the mattress.

“Even your ass is blushing. But your asshole is winking at me through that little hole in the belt.”

Growling around the sheet in her mouth, she continued to shake her head and spread the stupid sheet as he leered at her. She was going to ignore him,  yet she couldn’t not respond.

“You can’t see my asshole because of this frigging belt!”

“Well, not perfectly, but trust me, it is there winking at me. Lonely, I guess.”

She shot a death-ray glare at him, then turned back to finishing the task he’d set her. He laughed. After considerable time and effort, she was done.  Sitting back on her haunches, she looked at the sheet. While it wasn’t perfect, she felt she’d done a passable job. A poke in her ass made her turn and look at him.

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself. Not bad, slut.”

“No, I meant hey, you just kicked me in the butt.”

“Slut butts were made to be kicked by Dom shoes.”

“That’s so not true.”

“It’s true in my story of what’s happening here…wait…was that an …eyeroll? At your Dom?”

Uncertain if he was serious or poking fun at her, she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Hold that…right there…”

Advancing on her, she noted the clamp in his hand at the last second and slipped her tongue back in her mouth while shaking her head ‘no’ frantically.

“I wuth koking” she said, tongue locked behind her teeth.

“I wasn’t. Tongue out.”

“Iths gunna hut.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He dangled the key in front of her, and reluctantly she stuck out her tongue. Rather than attaching the clamp to it, he finger flicked it. It still stung but she knew a warning when she saw one.

“Sorry. Sir.”

“Better.”

He paused, looking intently at her.

“Well, slut, are you ready for your second task to free your dripping pussy?”

“How do you know it’s dripping? Huh? It could be all dried up and withered away inside this stupid thing.”

He chuckled.

“Yeah. Right.”

Wisely, she kept her tongue from poking out at him, admittedly at the last possible moment.

“Okay,” she said, heaving out a sigh. “I’m ready.”

She huffed out another breath.

“Bored already? My, I’ll have to take steps to correct that.”

Stepping over to the shelves, she watched him pick up a short, thick, silver rod.

“Open your mouth.”

She obediently opened.

“You’ll want this nice and wet. It’s going in your ass. No, don’t try to talk. It’s part of the belt, slut. And in a matter of minutes, it’ll be a part of your asshole! Won’t that be fun?”

It was rhetorical, she knew, but she still shook her head ‘no’, even as she gathered up what spit she could. This thing was fatter than it looked, and she was nervous about it going up her ass.

He pulled it out of her mouth, pushed her head to the floor without preamble, then began pushing it through the round hole at the backside of the belt. She felt the press of the cool metal against her ass and whined a little.

“Shaddup, slut.”

He pushed it until the flange at the base of the probe clicked into the base around the hole. He pulled her back up to her knees by her hair. Her eyes watered, as did her traitorous pussy.

“Magnets keep it in place, slut. Isn’t that cool?”

Her eyes were squeezed shut as her anus quivered around the thing wedging it apart.

“so…”

“…cool,” she said haltingly.

His palm slapped at one meaty buttock. She jolted, and, unable to stop herself with her hands secured behind her, she fell forward once again onto her face.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed.

“Bastard…” she muttered clearly, before mumbling something else into the mattress.

“Now, see? We’re having all kinds of fun now, aren’t we? I’m not sure exactly what you just said slut, but it tipped the tally upwards. I thought 20 slaps with the pancake turner would be sufficient, but I see I need to take some corrective measures. Your mouth gets you in so much trouble, doesn’t it? Why, I heard it even got you fired!”

“Wzntfird.Quitthebastard.” Her muffled reply made him grin at her back.

“Well, that’s not how I heard it,” he replied, knowing he was egging her on. It was so much fun riling her up.

“So,” he said, “let’s let your mouth do some yelling instead. Oh, and counting. I don’t care about saying thank-you, because that’s silly. Why would you thank me for that? I’m going to make your ass burn, little girl. Are we ready for some fun?”

He wasn’t sure what she replied. Her first yelp, followed by a groaned “one” was really all he needed to hear.

 

Hired! ~14~

His hand, still fisted within her hair, held her. Gods, she thought somewhere in the sane place in her mind,  he kissed the horny up so many notches. In the clash of lips and tongues, his had done battle and conquered hers. He nipped -delightfully – up her chin to her ear. That dangerous tongue of his swirled along her outer shell, sometimes the faintest flutter of a touch, sometimes a full-on lick, before sucking and biting on her lobe. She shivered, moaning, as he whispered dirty things in her ear; how it would feel when his tongue slid over her clit, how it would feel when his fingers explored her asshole. When she was a quaking, shivering mess of unbelievable need, he stopped.

“Good slut,” he said absently, patting her head, and releasing her. Sitting slumped between his legs, she barely noticed him rising and stepping over her. The kitchen light flashed on; she heard the sound of him rummaging in her fridge.

The red-hot haze of lust began to fade, and she shivered. Cold now, she wondered what the hell he was doing. Hearing the snick of drawers opening and closing she frowned. He was going through her drawers. And not the panty kind, either.  Just about to call out to him, she was forestalled by his grinning reappearance.

“You have a treasure trove in your whatzinit drawer!” His expression was boyishly gleeful.

“My what?”

“What-zin-it,” he enunciated. “You don’t always know ‘what is in it”…but it’s usually something you’ll need at some point.”

“Normal people call that a junk drawer.”

“Yeah? That’s just weird. WE always called it a whatzinit drawer at our house. It’s not junk, Kat. It’s useful and helpful things. Take these for instance.”

He held out his hand, holding two chip clips out for her to see.

“You’re excited about…chip…clips.”

“I’m excited because of all the fun I’m going to have with them.”

“They have almost no spring. They are not…for gawds sake…nipple clamps. I bet I’ll barely even feel a pinch.”

“I know,” he said, his tone filled with humor. “Which is why it was great to find these!”

In his palm lay two thick elastic bands, the kind that holds thick vegetable stalks together at the grocery store.

“So what I do it, I put on a clamp and…well, you know, I think it would be better to show you.”

He knelt down, and lifted her left breast. A quick pinch made her nipple rise, and he quickly fastened on the chip clip. The slightly pointed tip grabbed up her nipple, and left her with a mild sensation.

“Mhmm, see, just a little nip for your nip. Nothing much at all. But now we add this guy.”

First he removed the clip. He folded the elastic twice, then slid it over the front of the clip. Her eyes widened.

“See? We’ve just tightened the clamping ability by about 100%.”

He squeezed the open end of the clip hard, making the tip open, then guided it to her nipple. This time when he released the tabs, she squealed loudly. He smiled, flicking the pinchy device.

“Now,” he continued, “we mustn’t let your other nipple feel neglected.” With a grin he prepared the second clip and fastened that onto her. Her eyes closed as she whimpered again.

“Hurts, yes?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Then yelped as his hand grabbed her hair, and began lifting her.

“Up, slut,” he urged, as if the hand tugging tendrils from her scalp wasn’t enough to make her move.

“Ow ouuuw…” she muttered. She stood, swaying just a bit. The clips wiggled and wobbled but did not fall off, despite her ungraceful rise to standing. Already she was feeling that burn that she craved.

“Open,” he said, smacking her leg. Obediently she opened her legs, standing in front of him, her tits jiggling, her pussy shiny with the silver chastity belt.

“Be right back,” he said, before heading back to the kitchen. A silver spatula appeared in the doorway. “Do you know how much this thing hurts?” he called out, waving it in the air.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Okay, good,” he said. More drawers opened, closed. She could feel the need building, burning.  “Are you going to take this thing off of me soon?”

“Soon…ish,” came his muffled voice.

“Soonish?” she muttered. “What does that mean, soonish?” Realizing that she wasn’t being very submissive, and definitely not feeling so, she wanted to yell right back at him. But maybe that wasn’t the best of plans, she decided, as she heard a triumphant “yes!” from the the other room. It only took a moment for him to appear, with whatever he’d found, securely wrapped in a towel.

“Don’t you have a toybag?”

“Of course,” he replied, taking her by the arm and leading her forward. “Perfect. Stop.” Once more he tapped at her thighs, before walking behind her. “You have a lovely ass, slut,” he said, but she couldn’t reply as he’d also struck the back of her left thigh with the spatula. The sound it made was a dull *ting*, but she couldn’t speak, could only draw in the breath, her toes curling in the rug. When she came down, she let out a long hissed breath and a muttered ‘fuuuuck’ .

“I love the curve of it,”

*smack*  on the other thigh

“and the bounciness of your skin,”

*smack* on the first thigh, 

“and the blushy color from my spanking,”

*smack*

*smack*

*smack*

“and I’m sure going to love the adorable bruises from this pancake turner thingy.”

*smack**smack**smack*

“it’s…aaaaaah! FUCKFUCKFUCK…a spatula, you know?”

*smack**smack**smack**smack**smack**smack**smack**smack**smack**smack**smack*

“Did you say something slut? No?”

*smack**smack*

“Can’t speak? I love those sexy whimpers and gasps,”

*smack**smack**smack*

“it really gets me hard, you know.”

*smack**smack**smack*

The tremors came, making it hard to stand. There were tears, and panting breath.  Her thighs throbbed, her ass where he’d worked his way up and over all the curvy bits. He tugged her head back by her hair, again, and looked at her face.

“aww, poor little slut. Hurts, hmm?”

“yesss,” she whispered.

“I found a lovely wooden spoon. One of the heavy, thick kind. Wanna see?”

“No. I know which one you …”

*smack* between her thighs, hitting metal and skin. She jolted, the shockwaves of the blow awakening her clit, making her even more aroused.

*smack**smack*

“I smell you.”

His fingers felt all along her, the inner thighs, and the edges of her pussy.

“Pretty hot and moist down here, little girl.”*smack*

She moaned. *smack*

“Who woulda thunk you’d get that turned on by my hitting your metal casing? Hmmm?”

**smack*

She jumped as he struck her already tender bum.

“One would think that hurt you?” *smack**smack*

“YesssSSSS”

“Ooohhhh”

*smack**smack**smack*

“Ppplease take this off and fuck me, Sir, please.”

*smack*

“Can’t.”

“What do you mean *smack* OWWWW!”

“What do I mean oww? That means we’re both enjoying this, my dear.”

He spun her around, making her dizzy, and slapped both tits quickly. He hit flesh and the clamps, making her eyes widen as she rose to tiptoes, yelping.

“Your eyes are pleading…are you asking for more?” He slapped again, each tit receiving several fast blows. Her head fell back, her eyes closed as she moaned deep in her throat. His hand grabbed her throat, feeling the vibrations of her pain, then tightened. Striking her again, he drew the pain sounds through his skin, relishing them, feeling his cock stiffen.

He pushed her to her knees then, and unzipped his jeans.

“Good girls get a reward,” he said, as he press her face to where his cock strained for freedom. He grunted as the heat of her mouth closed around him, and slowly pressed himself across her velvet tongue.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

Tied into Submission

I –for all that I want it–haven’t been very submissive. We talk like friends, he and I, with laughter and teasing. We’re not in a rut, but both of us realize that the tasking and rules of times gone by don’t seem to be a part of our current dynamic.

It’s fine, really. I’m busy. He’s busy.

But it leaves me feeling nervous for playtime. Can I submit? Do I want to submit? Do I want the pain? Can I take it? This, after 8 1/2 years. *wry grin* Yeah. Still to question if I can.

But he is wise in the ways of nilla, and circumvents all that. He physically overpowers me, first off. He uses that tone of voice, and there is nothing I can do but obey. (And yes, he’s not asking me to kill someone in the next room…I’m talking playime here, not falling into the throws of Stockholm syndrome!) He touches me, sometimes softly, sometimes harshly and I hold my breath waiting for which it will be.

He cuffs my wrists to my thighs, then later rigs this system where I am further secured to crossed lines in the middle of the bed. I literally can. Not. Move. My legs won’t fully close, my hands are useless, and I’m existing only for his pleasure.

When he notes this he is quite pleased with himself, and sets to pinching my ass and swatting it. He uses his hands and that blasted olive wood spoon I gave him. It hurts and I’m whimpering and humping my ass up and down the 2 inches it’ll move…and he laughs.

I can’t get away.

I *must* submit to him, to whatever he’s got planned in his devious mind. I come a million times. He finger fucks me, and torments with my Hitachi. (OMFG, OMFG). I whimper and cry and beg.

He ignores me.

(Maybe he laughs, too. I can’t remember huge chunks of that time, other than the Hitachi and orgasms and trying to breathe.)

And I realize, as I lay there unable to defend myself, unable to stop him, that while he forced my submission, I am now wholeheartedly giving it up to him.

Take me.

Fuck me.

Use me.

Hurt me.

Until I’m floating, I’m happy, I’m hurting.

By taking my body, he has freed my mind.

 

 

HNT- A Well Spanked Ass

 

Our time together was amazing. Not only because we hadn’t been together this way in months…but for the wonderful mix of tenderness and wicked pain. He started right away, as if His fingers had been itching to be turned loose on my body.

It was amazing…because He only used his hands. We were both very tactile with each other, touching and caressing…and His spanking and pinching until I was dancing to get away, and squealing, and finally, whimpering.

And there was this spanking–later there were wicked pinches, and more spanking–and when my ass was finally the “right shade of red”– redder than this…He took an enormous bite from the burning-hot right cheek.

But before all that, there was His body pressed hard against mine, pinning me firmly to the bed while He took a long, sweet time spanking my ass. He just starts hard–no warm ups for Him– and it felt good, and right, and necessary. And then it starts to burn, and hurt, and it makes me try to squirm away, but His arm is hooked over me and there is no way to move as He’s laying partially on me. I can’t move, I can’t speak, my fist in my mouth to hold back the cries. Then a tear swells up, and another, and my head falls to the bed and I cry a little bit and still He  spanks, His pace steady, His hand firm. And I’m empty and drained, contained and hurting, and so full of Him as my ass throbs hard with the heat from His work.

Later we are curled together my head on His shoulder. I stroke his beard, running my fingers up and over and around His face, and we’re tender and calm…for a moment or two..until He decides to let His fingers loose on me again.

IMG-20150117-00171

Spanked Resoundingly

My header pic was taken shortly after He pinned me to the bed…on my belly, snugged up tight to Him, His hand or elbow or arm on my hair. I could not move, legs sticking off the bed oddly.

He starts spanking me.

Hard.

No warm up spanks for Him.

He hits the same. fucking. spot.

5 times

10 times

16 times

Then finally strikes the other side before I start screaming…

A few odd shots there, circling around my ass.

And then.

Back to that same. fucking. spot.

I don’t have to count.

He just hits for however long He wants to.

I’m whimpering, trembling, moaning, crying.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack, mercifully on the other cheek again. Then my upper thigh.

Then– well, you know.

Once my ass is burning…full on fire burning…He leans over me…

and sinks His teeth into that one aching spot…

Catching my Breath

It’s been  a hectic two weeks since Master and I played. It’s amazing the things that float to the surface even now. Little things, some big things. I remember (now) that He’d forgotten Sir Wolf’s bag of wicked whips (aaawww…*giggle*). It didn’t matter–He was wielding my infamous pink hairbrush as well as one HE has that is for grooming pets…it has wire teeth. He uses it by slapping some portion of my anatomy with some implement, then “scrubbing the welt down”. (insert eyeroll here)

I know. It’s wicked mean, isn’t it?

There was the fist-grab of hair when He kissed me, pinching my arm wickedly. His big hands grabbing my tits and holding me on my toes as I whimper. My shirt half off, and His teeth biting along my shoulder before He slaps my ass, encouraging me to get changed into the sexy stuff.

He popped me a good one on my ass as I’m trying to get dressed. (This after He’d messed me up proper before I even got out of my vanilla stuff.) And another while I’m trying to put on my lipstick. That one got a chuckle out of Him…He’s harassing me with slaps and pinches and saying “hurry up, nilla” and “you’ll never get that on before I–”

and I interrupt Him and throw a dirty look over my shoulder.

“Master.” (I was a tad indignant.) “I’m a girl. I can put lipstick on in a car going 65 miles per hour on a four lane highway, driving with one hand.” (please note I’m not *advocating* doing this! It’s not SAFE (but if you’re a person who wears make-up, you grok!)

He pauses a moment and says “Oh. Right. Forgot about that.”

And without missing a beat, He pops me again. (Not a smudge, peeps, not a smear. Perfect red lips. *buffs nails on chest*)

So those are the little vignettes that are floating to the surface now. We’ve had some face time this weekend past–it’s always nice to have that after a playdate, a check in, which we both need. Afterwards, when we talked Monday evening, He said “It was good to see you on Sunday, nilla.”

(He never says anything like that; it was wicked awesome!)

We’re happy, and talking about our next playtime later in the fall. I will juggle my schedule to make that work. We talked too about pushing the envelope on my behavior. I love to do that.

“I think, nilla,” He says as we talked Monday evening, “that I may wait even longer before I blow on you. See what naughty little things you think you can get away with when you think I’m out of the room.”

Well, that set me back a bit.

“You–you–why, that’s horrible, Master!”

He laughs. We talk some more about how He stalks around me (and I’m oblivious). How He waits, and watches for my little smirky smile to appear. That’s when, in prior play times, He has done the poke, or blow in my ear thing that makes me jump a mile because I think He’s left the room. (He even leaves the water running in the bathroom sink so I think He’s still in there.)

His thought is to stand there, waiting and watching for me be naughty. It is sadism at its best, perhaps. (I love the anticipation, the idea of Him catching me being “bad” (not, mind you, disobedient. If He says “stay” in the Dom voice–I know He fully means it. He leaves room for my mischief, which we BOTH enjoy.) Sometimes I rub my pussy with the hand furthest from the bathroom, to get a little relief (I never, ever cum without Him allowing it while I’m on the wall, however!) Or I might step away from the wall that He’s put me on, or drop my hands, or wiggle my butt, or any of those sort of things. I’m sure He’s seen some of them. (Boy did I get a wicked smack the time He caught me rubbing my pussy last year, as well as a “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”)

There’s a curious thrill there. Pushing His buttons is dangerous. I’m never sure where the point is that I’ll cross His line in the sand and get nailed for it. I’m never sure where He even IS in the fucking room. Is He right behind me getting His jollies over making me jolt and jump with shock when He blows on my ear or cheek? Or is He really in the bathroom this time?

It’s all part of the thrill. I was going to say game, but it’s not a game is it? It’s fantasy and reality. It’s pain and passion. It’s a thrill ride and a reality check.  It’s fucking awesome, and awesomely painful.

 

 

“Put That Leg Down!!”

I want to tell you every detail. I want to hold it all close to me and keep it private. Such is the quandary of a sex blogger! We have a good fucking time and want to brag about share it, yet it is also SUCH an intense experience that sharing it seems too personal, too private. 

Yet this IS what I do. (You know, since I hadn’t had much inspiration for writing fiction lately!) So here’s another snapshot of our time together. 

I was blindfolded. I have a love hate relationship with it, that blindfold. I want to see what’s coming at me…yet I love the “fear-turn-on” of not knowing. He taps my thighs, my calves with the fucking cane. I sincerely hate that fucking thing. Yet when it hits my tits?  It makes me fly…so deep into subspace that I can’t think. And here I was, worried that I couldn’t handle the pain, that I’d “fail”…right. There is no “I can handle it”–That’s just not how this D/s dynamic works.  Rather, it’s “you must take this, slut”.  Such a silly thing for me to worry about (yet worry and fret about it I did…)  Not only did I “take it”…oh now..I took it, and  it was good. And it was right.Aand it was….orgasmic. (That’s the braggy part. Sorry for boorishly bragging. . . . Okay. Not really.) 😀

I even survived that fucking pink brush. Geezuz but I DOUBLE-HATE that thing. Yes, it is even worse than the cane. The pain is…it’s a thin, hot envelope that circles my entire body, then centers deep right where He has just smacked. It throbs. It burns. Hot licks of “fire” swirl around the blow-landing-site. The pain of it steals my breath. It spun me around in a circle as I took that first blow, made a silent “O” of my lips, made Him laugh as I reacted silently but physically to that first blow.

Fucking sadist!

OH, how it hurt.

“Oh, nilla, I know how to help that,” He says…and before I can say no, no…He starts whacking that same spot with the cane. I feel Him bent over behind me, whaling on that same fucking place.

“Gotta.”

“Knock.”

“Down.”

I’m moaning, whimpering. His hand holds me still, not letting me teeter away (blindfolds and 6.5 inch stiletto’s …oh maaan…do not make for a good “getaway” pairing!) from the blows landing one after the other after the other. Short, hard raps against my already screaming flesh.

“The.”

His hand moves quicker, I can hear the ‘swoosh’ of the cane behind me and start keening.

‘owwwwwwwwww!!!!’

“Welts.”

Finally He lets me go and I stand, quivering and near-to tears.

“That helped, right?”

I shake my head, my hand caressing my butt.

“Oh, stop your whining,’ He says, smacking it with His palm…

*lost in a space-time continuum*

And somehow I’m laying over His lap, my ass already throbbing. He sits on the edge of the bed, palm stroking the hot flesh there. The first slap is gentle, nearly a caress, as are the next few, before the hand gets harder, heavier, thuddier. He hits the same. fucking. place.

Again. Repeat. Until I’m pulled out of my reverie and start to squirm.

My back arches as I cum, even as I cry out against the steady thwacking on my butt.

“Put that fucking leg down,” He barks at me, and I’m shifting in my head between pleasure and pain, and the sudden shocking sound of His voice, stern. He stops spanking and I feel the hard kiss of the cane on my calf.

My head pops up from the bed as I wail. OH! Such a different pain. HURTS! Sharp stings, like a line of wasps across the muscle on the back of my leg.

“I said,” He says, His voice stern and firm, “Put your fucking leg down.”

My toes come in contact with the floor and the cane stops. Once more there is the steady thud of His palm on my ass…

butt

 

Much later, days later, He explains. I barely remembered the incident, but he mentions it and it floods back…

“So there I am spanking you, nilla, and I see your heel coming up at me. Not that I mind seeing the heels–not by a long shot–but heading for my head? Not so much.”

oh.

*silent giggles* 

 

Old

“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.

“NOSIR!”

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.

*THWACK*

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.

“Cum.”

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.

“Cum.”

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.

“Cum.”

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.

“hmmmmm?”

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.

 

Thank You Master

No, that’s not what you think, actually, that “thank you, Master” up there in the title.

I know many of you that serve a Sir or Ma’am or Master must say “thank you *fill in the blank with your Dominant’s title*” and perhaps even “may I have another?”.

This is not that post.

Master doesn’t make me say thank you– He actually prefers to hear me curse Him, and say nasty words as He works me over. I never see when the blows are coming. He either blindfolds me or I stand with my nose on the wall and can’t see.

And okay, I close my eyes tight since I’m kind of a coward. Yes, even if I’m not wearing the blindfold.

Stop laughing. You’d do it too, I bet.

No, this is a very, very VERY big thank you to my Master, who is not making me write about an epic and totally embarrassing incident during our playtime. Thank You, Master, for not subjecting me to abject humiliation. (and yes, I’m still blushing)

I do also need to thank You, Master, for a truly awesome, and incredibly painful OTK spanking. You haven’t done that in a long while, and it is always a humbling and erotic event. And yes, I’m shifting in my seat from butt-cheek to butt-cheek as I write. The results of that spanking are still being felt today.

Is is wrong of me to say that I definitely didn’t ‘enjoy’ that game of ‘name the color of the implement’ even though I was amazingly good at it? I’m really glad I posted that header picture this week and have looked at it bunch of times, Master. And someday I’m going to write and tell Sir Wolf exactly what I think about that gift. Then again, maybe he won’t appreciate me calling him a “fucking bastard” the way You do.

🙂

Love,

Your aching and bruised and still very tired slut nilla