What seems to be a choice never really is. That is the lesson from last night. It seems like a bit of deja vu because I thought I already knew that.
I knelt at his feet as he finished up paying bills. He could tell by looking at me that I was, once again, wanton and needy. He stroked my head and asked if I had the choice, what would I pick for tonight, beating or fucking? I squirmed and kissed his arm, asking if I really had to choose. He just repeated the question.
"Fucking?" I asked, the question obvious in the word.
Slap, slap, slap, on each cheek. This sounds trite, but one tear did squish out of my eye then.
"No, you say, 'Whatever you want, Master' ". I repeated his words.
"That's better".
"Upstairs now, naked, collar and wrist cuffs". I scurried upstairs ahead of him. I followed his directions and waited in a kneeling position on the floor. My cunt was already soaking wet. I had the riding crop in my mouth also, as he generally expects. I had turned up the room heater, but it was still cold. I was shivering and crept a little closer to the heater.
He came in a few minutes later, not looking at me, but doing a few things first. I couldn't see him behind me. Then he took the crop from me. He struck my still bruised ass a couple of times and then told me to get up so he could use the floggers. He doesn't want those muscles to lose their memory. It was pretty hard for flogging, these floggers that I had custom made to be extra stingy.
After a short time he switched to a new strap, acutally the purse strap which had broked off my old purse. It's about 1/2" wide. Snap, snap, snap. I squeaked and shifted around, willing myself to stand still when I kind of wanted to run off, or dodge, or something. But I wanted this also, since what he was doing to me made my cunt drip wetly down my legs.
Snap, snap, snap. Across my back, butt and thighs.
"That doesn't hurt, does it? I'm barely snapping you."
Yes, it does actually.
"This hurts?" Snap, snap, snap.
Yes, Master.
"Oh, I guess it did break skin a bit here".
Oh. I whimpered a little, feeling incredibly turned on and a teeny bit vindicated in my squeaking.
Up close in my ear, very quietly: "Suffer, bitch."
Snap, snap, snap... and so on. I don't know how many exactly.
He went back to the floggers, and my now tenderized skin was more on fire now than before. He made me come - I had to grip the dresser to keep from falling over.
He laid me out on the floor and fucked me, one hand entwined in my hair and with a grip on my wrist cuffs. I was completely pinned in the most delicious way possible.
A very short time later he got up, and said "Bed time now, slave". I managed not to moan. I got up, cleaned off and headed for the bed, but before I got there his hand was on the back of my neck and he pushed me down on the bed in a convenient pose, ass up. Thrusting in to me a couple times, he said I had another choice. Oh, damn. He told me if there was going to be more sex there was also going to be serious humiliation. Or we could just go to sleep now. In trepidation of what "serious humiliation" would entail I answered:
"Whatever you want, Master".
"What a good girl, good answer."
Sex and humiliation or just sleep? Is that even a choice? I'll take door # 1 please.
He told me to get the Hitachi and get on top of him. As we fucked he described the most humiliating scenes for me. I'm not going to go into them, hearing about it once was plenty. Heat washed over me, the heat of humiliation turning into the heat of arousal. I used the Hitachi, but even while feeling waves of approaching orgasm lapping at the door I held them off with an effort of will, until he gave me the command to come. And again. And again. Until I felt completely limp and he rolled me off, rolled me on to my stomach and fucked me that way- biting at me - he finally came as well.
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Have Yourself a Slutty Little Christmas
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Ha Ha - Purse strap. My Master grabbed Himself my old broked off one, too. And then sliced and frayed the end to make it into a tawse. Brilliantly wicked, and, surprisingly - more painful than one might have originally imagined, no?
ReplyDeleteThe sharp ends are pretty unlike a belt. And, yes, surprisingly painful.
ReplyDelete