Aroused

She understood how people felt back in the medieval days, strung out upon a rack. Her wrists were drawn so tightly that she could barely flex her fingers. Her thighs were tied open, spread embarrassingly wide, and her ankles bound too.

Open. Vulnerable.

He sat, a dark shape across the room. The light shining upon her body threw him into shadow. If not for the occasional shift of his body, she would have thought he had left. But no, he lingered there, staring at her.

She swore she could feel the weight of that glance, touching her tits, her nipples, drawn tightly into buds in the cool room. Perhaps she could feel his eyes stroking her pussy, each succulent lip devoured in a look. Her clit was swollen with her humiliation.

HE WATCHED HER.

After forever and another minute passed, a creak from across the room drew her attention. He stood, moved towards her. From the shadow that was his form, a hand appeared in the light that bathed her body. A finger trailed up from her toes to her ankle. It slipped up along her inner calf, before curling up and around her knee.

“Oooh,” she squealed, trying unsuccessfully to move away. Silly, since she could barely wiggle her bottom. It set her fat tits to bobbling, though, and the finger rose from her ticklish knee to flick at one bouncing nipple. Her moan changed, deepened.

“This is desire. Arousal. The need to be touched…”

She swore she could feel His voice, a deep sound in the quiet dark room, in her bones.

“But for you, little one, an even deeper need. This.”

His flicking ceased, and he pinched her nipple firmly between that teasing forefinger, and his thumb. Arching with the sudden pain, she sucked in a breath.

“Yes,” he murmured, “You need this. As do I…”

His voice trailed off his hands gripped her tits, squeezing the soft flesh firmly until she whimpered. Quick as a striking snake, he slapped her face. A tear, single and sweet, pooled in her eye as she stared at him. Her cheek glowed from his hand; though she could not rub it with her wrists secured, she could feel the sudden heat.

His fingers pinched her tits, bruising the tender skin, drawing an assortment of noises from her. A quick slap on her left tit was followed by a pincering grasp of her nipple, and a shockingly sudden twist.

“OWIE!” she yelped, struggling. “It’s not the oven nob, there, Sir!”


“Perhaps not,” he agreed, “But I’m certain that it’s turning you on.”

She giggled, then moaned as he continued torturing his way down her body. He pinched her inner thigh, then caressed the apex of her pussy, but never quite touched where she yearned.

“Want something, slut?” He murmured.

“Yesss!” Her voice turned pleading. “I need you to touch me…I need to cum, Sir.”

“Ah. You want to cum, but that’s not the same as need. You need food. You need water-“

“I need it Sir. I really need to cum!”

“Are you sure?”

If she hadn’t been desperate, she might have taken note of the silky tone of his voice. But need overcame sense, and she nodded, and continued to beg for his touch. Still his fingers teased her, hurt her. Her cheek throbbed where he’d slapped her repeatedly, her nipples ached, but her cunt, aching with need, remained untouched.

How much time passed before he relented? She wondered how long he’d been tormenting her, how much more she could bear of his cruel fingers before she begged like a child for it to stop. If she did that, there’d be no orgasms for the month, she knew. She quivered when he spoke in her ear, his voice, carried in a caressingly warm breath.

“Okay, you may cum.”

His footfalls moved away, out of the light.

“But…Sir…”

“Patience, little one,”

In a moment or two he returned, carrying his favorite toy.

“I thought you’d fuck me, Sir.” She tried not to sound petulant.

“You were mistaken. I will take my pleasure from you, little one. In my own time, in my own way, as always.”

“Yes Sir,” she replied, eyes downcast. She watched as he placed the bulbous head of the wand against her cunt. Felt it as he wedged it tightly between her pussy lips. Still, nothing happened, and he walked out of the light again.

She strained to hear, but he was quiet. The sound of duct tape being pulled off the roll was loud, and made her jump. She wanted to ask, but managed to shut her mouth. If she was too rude, too pushy, he’d stop this and she so desperately needed release.

Back at her side, he adjusted the wand and began taping it to her inner thigh.

“That’s going to hurt when I rip that off,” he mused. Then laughed quietly. She bit her lip, keeping silent.

“Good girl,” he said with humor, slapping her thigh. “This is what you wanted, to cum, am I correct?”

“Yes Sir!” she replied promptly, excitement in her voice.

“So be it!,” he said, and flicked the vibe to “on” mode.

The first orgasm came quickly, her body primed for release. She whimpered that she was done, and “Thank you Sir,” but still he played with her tits, ignoring the buzzing vibe.

“Oh! It’s so…too…oh…Sir!”

Her body arched with the stimulation, coming again. Again, the “Thank you Sir,” and again he ignored her, pinching and pulling her nipples, grabbing her tit meat and squeezing and kneading it.

“Oh GOD…plea….AAAaaaa…”

She came again.

And again. Tears, pleading, crying, begging him to stop, please.

“Cum for me, little one.”

Her body shook and quaked as the dastardly machine ripped another orgasm from her. He moved, then, placing his hand over her abdomen.

“Your muscles are shaking and quivering, and it’s only been seven orgasms!” He exclaimed. “It’s such and amazing feeling!”

By the eleventh she was muttering endless streams of “omygawd omygawdohmygawd…”. By fifteen she was drooling; sloppy, soaked with sweat and cum and tears.

As she quivered through the eighteenth wave, she barely felt the tape being pulled from her quaking thigh. She screamed as he jabbed into her sopping cunt with his stone-hard cock. He fucked her roughly, as she clenched around him, coming continuously. He held the vibe against her clit as he drove her up and over into incoherence. Strange words came from her mouth, along with grunts and moans. Her pussy gripped his shaft, her body trembling fiercely. With a final push, he buried himself in her belly as his cock injected streams of semen into her.

With a flick of his thumb, he turned off the vibe, and smiled, stroking his palm down the side of her face as she, still quivering, now slept. They’d both gotten exactly what they wanted.

He was pleased.

Naughty

Those of you who know me a bit, know that I’m a wise-ass, and tend to “push the envelope” of proper behavior…in real life as well as being a submissive goes.

I’m going to obey. Mostly. ūüôā With…you know, a twist of nilla. I’m just wired that way, and He accepts that…He is not a protocol-driven Dom. I don’t have to count spanks, or say “thank you Sir” after every swat. As He points out, He’s been doing this sort of stuff since I was a teenager. (I know, right? ūüôā ¬†Also known as a “very long time, nilla”). Seriously, He was in the scene in Europe when I was in High School. ¬†And likely when I was still a virgin (isn’t THAT an odder thought?)

Anyhow, I digress. He’s not stuck on protocols, He does things that please Him. I’m fine with that, too. He is strict about other things, like when I can cum, or eating ice cream…and it’s the level and need that work for us as a couple. This is a relationship, not just scene after scene after scene, and if he wanted to micromanage someone, He’d get a dog (or so He said to me once).

The other day He said something humorous but also obnoxious to me, and I swore I would attack His “little man nipples” during playtime.

I tried.

I really, really tried. We wrestled and wrangled, and hell, He may be older than me, but He is strong as a bull.

“Enough of this shit,” He mutters under His breath, and leaves me on the bed with the single command “stay”. It’ s a direct order. Of *course* I obey. I only push on the things I have wiggle room on, silly!

He turns back with the velcro cuffs. Oh fuck! Now I’ll *never* get His nips! I lunge for Him, He pushes me back, and quickly cuffs my dominant hand. I tussle, He pins me, and despite using all my reserves of guile and strength (I can’t even show Him this because He might hurt Himself laughing on that last bit there), He successfully grabs my other wrist, cuffing it, then grabs the length of “leash” between my wrists and tugs my hands up over my head.

“no,” He says, and flips me onto my belly, then proceeds to tug me off the bed, headfirst. I’m now braced on my fingertips, His arm over my ass, pinning me in place.

“Stay.”

He moves away, then quickly back, and I feel a squirt into my crack. uh oh.

His finger saws in and out of my asshole, lubing it, then slides into my pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet, you whore,” He laughs.

And shoves this REALLY large double vibe into my ass and pussy and fucks me hard. I cum almost instantly. Something in my ass is one thing…but double insertion AND a vibe AND upside down? I’m lost, panting, confuddled, blood rushing to my head, my ass stretched around the big tool, my pussy squirting. I came multiple times.

Finally I hear His voice from far away…

“Had enough, slut?”

I mumble something like ‘yezzir…uhmmmmm” and cum again.

He laughs, pulls out the vibe, and lifts me by my shoulders, back up onto the bed.

I’m messed up, hair, mascara, lipstick smeared all over my face. He brushes away my hair, grinning at me.

“Leave my nipples alone, got it?”

I giggle.

I can’t help it, it is very amusing to this slut. I shake my head.

He tugs my wrists over my head, lays His elbow on the cording between, pinning me, and begins pinching and biting *my* nipples.

Tit for tat, I guess.

ūüôā

“Oops” is not in His vocabulary…

Yes.

I had an “oops”…first time, ever.

Now, in my defense…it had been a verrrah long time between O’s. Eight days.

Yeah, I know for some of you that is nothing. Some of you go months….but not nilla.

Mind you, i am not judging you, really, but I totally don’t understand it, either…

I LOVE my orgasms, and the thought of living without them for extended periods makes me feel…sub-human. Not as in submissive, but as in less-than… and perhaps it is because of all the years leading up to my sudden acknowledgment that I *could* have an orgasm. I’d only had one or two in my life up until I was 49. ¬†Learning how to touch myself, to fuck myself to a height of pleasure? That was an epiphany for me.

Then, as a collared submissive, understanding that my orgasms come at His whim…added heat to the experience. And He is admittedly generous with me.

But when He says “you may have 1.5 O’s, slut, and because I am in a generous mood, you may take the half at the front end”…it is not up for debate. It is not up to me to decide to change it around.

It is not up to me to have the full orgasm, first.

The idea is to remember that there must be obedience, first. He followed the first text with another that added a “generous dose of pain”…oh.. yummmy…

And as i affixed clamps to my nipples, and shivered as the heavy chain hit my belly with an ice-cold slap, i felt His hand there. I’ve not worn the clamps in a while..and my nipples protested.

Yummy.

And then to add more pain, i added clothes pins to my belly, around the muffin top. It’s harder to do that these days, and the pinch is worse now that my belly is tighter. (Talk about inspiration to NOT lose weight!! LOL!) (Don’t worry…I’m NOT a skinny minny, and never shall be..I’m just less jiggly these days ūüôā )

And with my favorite vibe, and trusted dildo, I set to work. OH, it felt so good to feel pleasure. The pain in my mouth slowly faded away as the pleasure of the pain and throb in my sex sent me spiralling into a place of intense sex-need.

I was wet.

I was turned on.

I was spinning a nasty little tale in my head, playing it out on my body. Tugging the chain and pulling my nipples, making pain the focus of my attention, even as my clit answered the pulsing beat.

I felt the wetness slipping from me, as I slid the dildo home, as I fucked hard, then slow, feeding slivers of pain through the pulses of pleasure.

It was erotic, it was hawt, it was wholly consuming. My entire body was caught up in the fantasy, caught up in the simmering sensations coursing through me. In the back of my head was that order from Master as I felt the groundswell of orgasm.

But hell, I’ve done it dozens of times now.

Stopped, right there at the almost-edge of cumming.

Stopped, right before falling over the edge.

Stopped.

I guess I was smug about it.

Ha ha ha.

I can do that, la la la la la.

Easy-peasy.

Except.

Except this time I’d not cum in eight days.

Except this time, I’d been having vicodin dreams for a week, and a steady supply of pain, which while not erotic, must’ve keep my masochistic needs on “simmer” rather than “off”.

As that precipice edged closer, closer, I almost laughed. O, I felt so good, sogood. I was¬†flying…high on the endorphin mix fed to my cunt, my nipples, my body.

I stopped fucking in the nick of time, laying the vibe at the top of my pussy, not on my clit, but at the very top of my slit.

It wasn’t far enough away.

The vibrations trickled through my flesh, tickling and setting off the fuse on the time-bomb in my cunt.

I lay there, gasping and craving the fulfillment…when it hit like a tidal wave. Engulfing my body, my legs curled up, my back bowed, and everything clenched, tight, tight, tight…and i exploded.

Something had gone horribly right...wrong.

This was an Oops of epic proportions.

He had directed the HALF-O…that fucking to almost-completion, and the throbbing after-effects of loss and incredible need…He had directed that to happen¬†first.

Oops.

My bad?

It didn’t, there in the pulsing after-wards…seem to be all that critical. Yeah. I know.

It was.

To compensate, as soon as i could breathe? I fucked right to that edge again, and stopped.

Half-orgasm, check.

Throbbing need, unfulfilled desire?

Check.

The text went out to Him, explaining that there had been an “oops”…and despite the 400 miles between us right then? I got an immediate “WTF? You’re in big trouble, slut”

So. Yeah.

No Orgasms for nilla for a while.

Okay, His exact words were “Your nurse will be giving you your next orgasm, slut. Providing, of course, that she can¬†find¬†your dried up, wrinkled pussy.”

Ummm…

oops?

 

 

 

Fuck Up!

Wednesday night, driving home from the City (and my yoga class), I called Master. I’d had a bit of a stressful day…nothing ginormous, mind you, but the kind of ¬†“water over granite” ¬†day that wears you down in subtle increments.

So, there I was, ¬†talking to Master…asking Him a question.

And He didn’t answer me right away, and …

um.

I ¬†snapped . ¬†And what I said was rude, definitely not submissive, AND… (hangs head) ¬† it was even *said* in a snarky voice:

“I just want to know if You want to meet in the morning or the evening Master, it’s a simple question.”

There was an immediate  response to that.

Whoa…what did I just hear? Was that¬†nilla?

I tried to backpedal, but obviously way way WAY too late. He told me it was the kind of voice a man hears when he has to bring home milk and bread.

And He let that hang there.

I am not his wife.

I am not his partner.

I am not his equal.

I am not in charge.

I am nilla, and boy am I  a stupid slut.

We worked it out… he was…surprised. Startled. Put-off. Not mad. In 2.5 years, I have¬†never spoken to Him like that. Ever.

He called me an Assertive. Salacious. Slut.

So I have a new acronym that I must use every Wednesday in texts and emails for infinity.

A.S.S.

*blush* Talk about a lesson on manners.

Now, on Wednesday night, sometimes I get an O, and sometimes…not. ¬†I figured, mega fuck up, no O. I didn’t want to ask. But He kind of led me up to it as our conversation began to wind down, as I got closer to home. And I got that He wanted me to ask. I figured He wanted me to ask so that He could gleefully deny me, and I said as much to Him.

Oh, no, nilla. I want you to have an O. As a thank-you gift.

I pondered that for a bit. ¬†“A thank you Master?” ¬†I say at last.

Yes, nilla. I owe you a big thank you. ¬†You see, nilla, I have a list. I keep ¬†all your little …infractions…on it. ¬†That way, if ¬†someday I feel …guilty? No not guilty….If I ¬†need motivation when I beat you, I can go to that ¬†list, and read of your misadventures, and use that as inspiration. Ah yes. ¬†Inspiration.

Of course today’s little episode is not the first thing on my list.

The first thing on my list is:   Because I can.

But this new thing? This ASS thing? That’s a big number two reason. I’m going to hit your ass so hard it’ll bruise in seconds.

I’m think about using ¬†SCFT – blade side up on your well spanked ass to bring about immediate welts which I will then crush back into whence they came with SCFT flat/curved as it is intended to be used under Normal Torturous Conditions (NTC). But then again, thanks to your impromptu A.S.S move, NTC’s don’t really exist anymore – do they – n’est pas?

So, tonight’s O is a thank you for adding to the motivation to smack your ass.

I kind of giggle. I mean, this was somewhat amusing to me. Don’t ask me why, i have no idea. It just was. ¬†I know, it’s weird. I allay it all to the stress of fucking up, to the dastardly thought of the FSCT being used on the thin side edge on my ass. He interrupts my puzzled musing and small giggles.

Oh, and nilla?

About that O…

Here it comes, I think. NOW He’s going to take it away. Ha. As if. When He’s on a roll? He’s amazing.

It must have pain. It must have LOTS and LOTS of pain. You’ll climb that mountain four times again…but with so much more pain. Tell me, little girl, what hurts you the most while you fuck your pussy? Hmmm?

I stutter a bit.

“Um…if I use two pegs on each nipple…that hurts a lot.

“Good, use that.” ¬†He pauses. “What else, little girl?”

I swallow hard. He wants more?

“Really Master? More?”

Really.   More.   Much more. Tell me.

He growls that last part. I can’t help it…it turns me on, even while my knees are shaking. “P-pegs on my belly. Those hurt like fuck, Master.”

“Good. Do it. What else?”

OMG, I think …he wants MORE?

“Oh Master”…I’m almost near tears now.

Tell Me.

His voice is demanding. He *knows* –I know He knows what I don’t want to say next…My voice drops lower.

“The vibe, Master.” I whimper.

“Ohhh, the vibe, that’s¬†right. HOW bad is it?”

“It’s bad when the power is up there.”

“Good. Do it. DO IT.”

I whimper, thinking 75-80 % power is gonna be tough for four treks up that mountain. Again He interrupts my musing.

Nuclear! I want it fucking turbo-nuclear!!

His voice is gleeful and gutteral and growly and so fucking turning me on…And…it makes me shudder.
“Master!” I gasp, I plead with Him……”no..no really? Not..not…”

FULL POWER, slut. For all four trips That fucking vibe stays ON your clit the WHOLE time.”

When He laughs, it’s with satisfied glee. “Yes, that’s perfect.” He reiterates:

Double pegs on your nipples. Pegs on your belly. Vibe on full high, on your clit,  for the entire time.

“Yes Master.”

The call ends, and I know He is satisfied. He’s taught me a very valuable lesson in controlling my mouth.