She longs to disappear, to the ocean, to the coast. Let salty air cleanse her weary heart. Feel the fine sand soothe her broken soul. Allow the tepid water to wipe her troubled mind. Send her spirit into the white capped waves, to escape.
She dreams of being free, nothing to tether her to this world or the next. Nothing making demands of her, no responsibilities to consider, no expectations to manage, no one to hurt her…
But no one to love.
Runaway… Run back home. Be loved. Be present. Be real.
There is so much real pain in the world. Crippling pain that destroys minds and breaks hearts. I wish I were a healer. Instead, I am an empath and a masochist, with the intense desire to steal your pain.
If I could take your pain, if I had the power to absorb it, consume it, make it my own, I would.
You’d have to dispense it, tiny doses at first, in hateful silence and dark thoughts. The pain would be far more intense than I could’ve imagined, but I would steel myself against it.
Then, you would have to toss it, like daggers, in your vicious names and words. I would buckle quickly, because I am weaker than you. But I wouldn’t ask you to stop, because I would know the blessing I’d be offering you.
Once you were stronger, you could hold me, and gift it in slaps and smacks. I would accept it, and plead for more. Touch giving me the will to continue.
As the pain left, your strength would grow and you could then tower over me, lashing and roaring. Each strike and bellowing growl would pour through me, showing me the lifetime of strife you’ve had to bear on your own.
And once I was broken and wretched with your pain, you would pick me up, and attempt to soothe ME, the way I always want to soothe, sweetness displayed, no longer hidden under layers of bile and aggression.
If I had the power to truly take away your pain, I would surely have the ability to beseech it as well.
But I would not unload it lightly. I wouldn’t simply award it to an awful person who might actually deserve it. I am not cruel and cannot be vengeful.
Instead, I would pool it and send it into a rain cloud. I would disperse drops of it on everyone, so that we all could share a tiny bit of your struggle.
The weight of it over billions of people would be nothing. And you could then walk with them, no longer imprisoned in your pain. Your heart no longer a slave to its effects would be free to seek love and happiness that you deserve.
The healing would bring you peace.
A peace I desperately wish I could provide.
The healing peace that I cannot find for myself.
But if I could hone this power, perfect this craft, I would never find peace. I would use it until I was used up. I would give up myself for a world free of pain.
I guess that is why God doesn’t grant me this power. He knows that in His design, I wouldn’t be able to accept it all. I would crumble under just the load that is yours. Because I am weak.
Weaker than you.
Weaker than most.
Weaker than I should be.
Weak, but perhaps strong enough to heal myself.
A healer of my own self-inflicted emotional wounds. A healer of the hurt I have dosed onto others. A healer of the pain caused by my mistakes.
I’m sorry I cannot heal the world.
I’m sorry I cannot heal you. You know how much I wish I could.
But I will be a healer. For myself.
I will try to heal myself.
My husband and I did a lot of talking this past weekend. A huge conversation turned fight turned major breakthrough left my mind spinning, prompting me to write For Us, For Love, and opening his browser window to read my words, which was maybe the single most important thing he could’ve done for me.
When you write something that pours out of you like a river into the sea, you want people to read it. But this time it was difficult for me, wanting Him to read it, or anyone who knows me up close and personally, because of the fear of being judged.
We got to have a long talk, during a car trip that took several hours on Sunday. Discussing things I had written and his impression of them… It was wonderful, and odd, and fascinating, and uncomfortable all at the same time. Seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes is uncomfortable.
Seeing yourself through someone’s eyes who loves you, who wants the best for you, who wants you to be the best you can be?
Wow.
My negativity was a big topic. Focusing on the bad memories of my childhood… It’s not that I’ve forgotten the good memories, I just wasn’t focusing on them. Picking apart my personality, my submissiveness, my neediness… It’s like trying to pull chunks out of Lego tower and expecting it to remain standing. Pushing against all the ways we have come together as a couple… It’s like taking a train apart and expecting it to still travel together.
I left that conversation feeling very strong and capable. Then, I made the mistake of reading. Reading too much. And reading into what I was reading, too much. I do that often.
I’m addicted to words. And I always try to manipulate them.
Unfortunately, what I read made me start focusing on the negative, picking apart my personality and pushing against everything. It was a roller coaster night, my head and heart pulling against each other. Late, followed by sex and fantasy, dreams and reality… It truly was a roller coaster night.
It left me raw in the morning
I left me raw in the morning.
I made me raw.
And the worst part? It took all fucking day yesterday to figure that out. That it was me who had me tied up in wicked knots.
…
I was analyzed by a fellow blogger, a Dominant. Based on a few conversations but mostly my blog. What he learned and shared with me was a little startling at first, but mostly true.
I am submissive, yes. I am a pleaser, yes. I am in need of domestic discipline… I am a domestic service sub… requiring a lot of attention, affection and support… a “cherished slave” at heart…
Seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes is uncomfortable. Obviously, you have to take into account where the person doing the analyzing is coming from.
After that conversation, I thought a lot about masochism. I have really dark fantasies involving pain. I don’t expect I’ll ever have the opportunity to explore them, because I didn’t marry a sadist. I married a kind, gentle, sweet and loving man who wants to see me happy… not in pain.
…
Around the same time, after reading another blog, I emailed a fellow writer expressing concern over his post. Unwarranted concern. After a minute, I quickly recognized that I had transferred my own thoughts onto him. My concern for his well being was unnecessary, because it was I who was feeling what I had read in his words, not him. Dark thoughts that no mommy should ever think.
…
I got an email over the weekend from a very religious women who had somehow stumbled upon my blog and decided she must try to save me. The most interesting thing was that it didn’t make me mad, and even barely registered, at first. It just sat at the front of my mind waiting to be processed…
Or waiting to be used as a weapon by an emotional masochist.
…
Seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes is uncomfortable. And when you NEED that discomfort… You’ll use their words like a switch, and beat yourself to a bloody pulp with them.
And I did for a moment, until I remembered something.
“All you can do is be the best you can be….”
My husband said it in our conversation Sunday. And I remember thinking, “What the fuck does that even mean?”
But other people have said it, many, many times. So other people must understand what it means!
Why don’t I?
…
Because I make myself raw. I harm myself emotionally. I seek pain wherever I can find it.
And when you are in pain of your own creation, you are not your best. You’re not even you!
I’m not saying there is anything wrong with masochism. I’m saying there is something wrong with self harm. I just want to be clear on that. Because not all masochists hurt themselves. It’s usually a means of seeking release and connection with someone else. When you allow someone to hurt you, physically, and then they clean and care for you afterward, building back up what they took away through the soothing balm of love, the bond you create with that person is often very intense.
When you allow someone to hurt you, physically and they don’t do those things, that is abuse.
When you allow someone to hurt you mentally, there is no way for them to do those things, that is abuse.
And when you hurt yourself, physically or mentally, there is no way for YOU to do those things, (because you inflict those wounds out of hate, not love) that is abuse.
…
I’m not sure what the next step in this breakthrough is.
I know that I WANT to be the best I can be, for the people in my life that I love and care for.
I want to be a good wife.
I want to be a good mother.
I want to stop unloading on others, whenever I get the opportunity.
So the question is:
Can a masochist learn to change?
Can I live without, or live receiving only tiny doses?
Can I drop the emotional self harm?
I did yesterday. After rocketing the hills of that roller coaster all day, I stood up for myself yesterday evening in a way that surprised me.
And I spent the evening feeling good about it.
But now, in the darkness before sunrise…
Deciding whether or not to publish such a dark, deep post…
Waiting for something to make me strong…
I’m struggling. And no one can help me but me.
It’s time to really buck up, and be the best that I can be.
Be the best I can be.
It’s Saturday night. I’ve dropped off the little man at my Mom’s and have told my beautiful girl to get herself ready for a night out. We don’t get to go out very often, so I’m guessing she is going all out. I only told her she needed to wear a skirt.
When I arrive back home, I find her in her bra and panties, painting her toenails. She looks delicious, and blushes when she sees me staring at her, making her just that much more desirable. I continue watching her until she is finished, then take the nail polish out of her hand.
“Bend over and put your hands on the wall,” I command, and her eyes widen, but she follows the order, leaning her upper body forward to plant her palms shoulder width apart.
I skim my finger tips over her back and down her backside. As I lightly guide her thighs apart, I hear her exhale. “Expecting a spanking, sweet wife?” I breath, as a lean over her back to fondle her already stiff nipples. “That always makes me wonder if you deserve one. Have you been a bad girl?”
“No, Sir,” she whimpers, as I free a nipple, pinching and twisting it firmly.
I guide her thighs further apart and run my hand back up the inside to feel her already damp panties. “Hmmm, wet already, sweet girl. Does this turn you on?” She moans quietly as my fingers run back and forth over the fabric, between her lips. “How about this?” I whisper, as I move her panties to one side and slide my finger inside her. Her responding moan is much louder this time.
She whines as a remove my finger and straighten her panties, which makes me grind my hard cock against her ass. “Look what you’ve done to me, you naughty girl.” I smile as I rub her bottom, deciding a little spanking will warm up the evening quite nicely.
“Five swats, on each side. I want you to count,” I growl in her ear and she moans.
She counts each blow softly as I land 5 smacks to her right cheek, then whimpers as I rub the other to prepare it. Her counts are a little louder on the left and, to my surprise, followed by, “Thank you, Sir, May I please have more?”
I know she wants me to fuck her, she has used this tactic before. “Oh, no, sweet girl. Ten is enough… for now,” I murmur. But instead of backing away, I pull her panties to the side again, and slide my finger inside her again. She’s dripping now, so ready, and I feel her muscles clench lightly around my finger.
I check the clock, and we have time. So I withdraw my finger and insert my two middle fingers while reaching around her front to slide my other hand inside the front of her panties. I rub her clit lightly at first, and then harder, concentrating on getting it between two fingers as I massage, back and forth. Her hips are grinding, and her soft moans have turned into the throaty sounds that drive me wild. I slide my fingers in and out at pace with my other hand, increasing the speed until I feel that telltale quiver, when I withdraw completely.
“Oh, No Sir, PLEASE!” She cries, bent against the wall grinding her hips in the air.
“We’re done for now. You can continue getting ready. We’re leaving in 15 min.” I have to force myself to walk away. I want to stick my dick in her and fuck her like there’s no tomorrow. But, delayed gratification is often much better than instant. And I’m going to enjoy watching her frustration grow throughout the evening, with this little game I have planned.
I wait, standing in the kitchen, hoping she’ll be a little late so that I can torture her just a little more. Never one to disappoint, she makes her way down the steps exactly 15 min. after my mark. Her hair flows in waves over her shoulders, her makeup perfectly enhancing her gorgeous, green-blue eyes and sweet, full lips. Delicate gold chains of hearts dangle from her ears and her chained heart pendant rests, as it always does, at the base of her throat. She’s wearing a black halter dress that hugs her curves and falls just above the knee, and her freshly pedicured toes peek out from her sexy, open-toed heels. I imagine watching her walk around in her lingerie and those heels, and my dick twitches again.
She blushes again at my stare, and when she is a few feet away, she spins around, revealing the low, draping back of the dress, her tattoo peeking out at me from just below the fabric. When she’s facing me again, I step toward her, wrapping one arm around her lower back and sliding my hand into the dress, down to her ass. When I realize I feel only skin, I look into her eyes and smile. “What’s the rule about going without panties?”
“Only when You tell me to, Sir,” she smirks back. “I guess I need another spanking.”
I laugh and hold her back at arms length. “Ah, but punishment spankings aren’t the same as the erotic kind.” She frowns slightly, wondering what I have in mind.
“Lift your dress and bend over the table,” I grumble against her lips before I walk toward one of the kitchen drawers. I find a large wooden spoon, but when I turn, she is staring at me with wide eyes. She quickly raises her skirt and leans down to the table. “Arms behind your back,” I growl, and she quickly grasps each of her forearms.
I spread her feet apart, nice a wide, and rub her already pink ass with the smooth bottom of the spoon. When I feel her relax, I surprise her with 3 fast blows and say, “I think 20 this time. No counting.”
As I plant the blows, alternating sides and location, I watch as her juices start flowing again, and on the last swat, a drop trickles down her thigh. I slide my fingers between her slit and grumble, “Oh, you little slut, are you turned on after a punishment spanking, too?”
Her sigh and ragged breath ignite me to go further. “Twenty more.”
This time I land the blows all around her sit spot, the last 5 landing directly on her cunt, and she is moaning and writhing by the end. I smooth the back of the spoon over her soaked pussy lips and growl, “Twenty more, dirty girl?”
“Oh, yes Sir, please,” she moans. I reach around in front of her, and feel her swollen clit, dripping with her own juices. I push two fingers inside of her, and feel her clench around me. “I’m afraid we don’t have time for any more, but you’ll get them later.”
I clear my throat and tell her to collect herself. When she comes out of the bathroom, I wrap my arms around her and whisper in her ear, “You look incredible, Sweet Wife. Frustration is very sexy on you!” I pull away to look at her lovely face, and she frowns at me. “Thank You, Sir. But I wish we weren’t going out, at this point!”
I laugh and we make our way to the car. Once inside, I reach into my glove box and hand her a small gift bag. “Put those on.”
When she opens the bag and sees what’s inside, her cheeks flush bright red and her eyes widen, yet again. “Vibrating Panties?!” She shrieks, “Oh No Sir, Please. How humiliating!”
“Put them on. No discussion.” I command, looking her in the eye so she can see that I’m serious. She opens the package and glides them on, under her dress. “Let me see,” I whisper, and she lifts her skirt to her belly. I reach down to feel that the little bullet is in the right spot. It protrudes from a pocket on the inside and you can slide it up or down into correct position. I turn it on, with the remote control, and guide the nugget until it rests against her clit. I know I’m in the right place because she sucks in a long breath.
“Just think, that’s the lowest setting!” I smile at her, and turn it off. She exhales, and straightens her skirt. After latching her seat belt, she folds her hands in her lap and glances at me. I’m smiling at her. I love that she lets me do these things to her. I love that she gets off on it too. I lean toward her, grasping her chin with my finger and thumb, and breath against her lips, “I love you sweet wife. So much.” I kiss her deeply, and just before I turn away, I turn on the panties and watch her eyes grow big again. She shifts in her seat, but it doesn’t help, because the panties are very snug.
I leave them on, as we back out of the garage and drive down the street. She unclasps her hands and lays them flat on her thighs. She closes her eyes and tries to breath through the pleasure. “If it gets to be too much, just tell me, and we’ll stop,” I say quietly and increase the speed on the remote control.
She moans and her hips move a little and when I glance, I notice her nipples are hard, poking through her bra cups, visible through her dress. I reach my right hand up to one, and skim my fingers over it, increasing the speed again on the remote. “Oh, God,” she breathes, her hips grinding against the seat. My cock is completely awake, and I think about pulling over and fucking her against the car at some random parking lot.
I turn the remote off and she whimpers, but then, as my hand slides under her skirt, she looks at me. “Sir, Please, let’s not get into an accident.” I smile at her and pull my hand away. I’m not sure how we’re going to make it through dinner.
On the highway, I turn on the panties twice, and watch her squeeze her thighs together, trying to get enough out of them to orgasm. The last time I turn them off, she audibly groans and looks at me, searching for relief. I laugh and say, “Good girl. Soon enough.”
When we arrive at the restaurant, I park at the back of the building, in a corner spot and stop her from unlatching her belt. After releasing my own, I lean over and press the button with my right hand while sliding my left beneath her skirt. The panties are soaked, and the inside of her thighs are damp. I slide my fingers into the panties and start finger fucking her. She’s totally relaxed, so I can tell she thinks I’m about to let her come. I work my fingers in and out while circling her engorged clit with my thumb, and I almost get lost in the moment. Listening to the little sounds of pleasure coming from her throat, and watching her face as she rides the waves, it’s VERY difficult to pull away. But when I feel her muscles quake, I pull my hand away and sit back in my seat.
“Oh, God. Please! You’re killing me!” She shouts.
I turn back toward her, and run my wet fingers along her lips. She takes on of them in her mouth and tastes herself. I push the next one in and then my thumb. She’s still moaning and writhing, so I lower my hand to her throat. I discovered some time ago that holding her like this, not choking her, but simple holding her around the neck, is one of the easiest ways to calm her and exert my control over her body at the same time.
Her hips settle almost instantly and her breathing slows. I tell her to open her eyes and as they flutter open, she stares into my eyes. “I’m in control. Don’t think. For the rest of the night, I want you to be in the moment. Don’t anticipate it. Just enjoy the pleasure and the frustration. Embrace it and know that it pleases me. Later, when you are screaming in ecstasy, having endured the humiliation, frustration and pain, I will prove that it was worth it. This body is mine, and I love seeing it on edge.”
I watch as her face clears and her thoughts dissipate. “Yes, Sir. Of course, I am yours. To play with, always… I apologize.” She glances down to see my full erection and smiles, suddenly understanding the game is not for her torture, but for our combined pleasure. We are both frustrated as Hell. But it will lead us to Heaven.
I release her to collect myself. We sit for a moment, and all I can think about are the panties. I realize I’m just going to have to suck it up, so I open the car door and pull myself from the drivers seat. After walking around the car and opening her door to help her out, she wraps her arms around my neck and whispers in my ear, “I could help you with that problem in your pants.”
“Oh really,” I laugh. “What are you proposing?”
She giggles and whispers in my ear again, “Sharks.”
“What?!”
She leans back to look at me, “Ice cold showers.” She smiles, “Guys in Speedos at the beach.” And then laughs with her final thought, “Guys wearing NOTHING at the beach!”
“I appreciate that, wife,” I chuckle. “Now, let’s go get something to eat.” I kiss her deeply and as we turn to walk toward the restaurant, I flip on the remote in my pocket.
She’s practically writhing by the time I turn it off when we get seated. The hostess asks if she can put in a drink order for us, looking at my wife wondering if she is OK. “Please, ice water,” my sweet girl smiles at the waitress and fans herself with her hand. “It’s very warm in here, don’t you think?”
I laugh while giving my order, and scoot our chairs closer. I want to feel how wet she is now. As I reach under the tablecloth, she opens her legs to me, proving to me that she isn’t thinking, that she’s allowing me to have complete control. When I slide my finger into her panties, she practically pants, so I decide not to do anything else for right now. She has soaked the panties and her dress feels damp as well. I look into her eyes and recognize that she is definitely in the moment. I wiggle my finger just slightly over her completely erect clit and her legs tremble. One more flick may have sent her over the edge.
After I pull away and press her knees together, she takes a few deep breaths and asks if she can use the restroom. I pull her close and whisper, “Yes, to relieve your bladder only. No orgasms.” She grins at me and blushes, “No, Sir. Promise.”
I watch her walk away. I’m completely hard again and consider going after her, and fucking her in the restroom of this restaurant. But control my urges and look over the menu instead.
When she doesn’t come back for several minutes, I start to get concerned. The waitress arrives with our drinks and asks if we’re ready to order. Wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, I order for us both and watch the restroom doors for her to come out.
After a few more minutes, she comes out laughing, with another woman. The woman shakes her hand, and my lovely wife makes her way to the table. Her cheeks are glowing pink and her eyes twinkle in the low light of the restaurant. She smiles at me and my heart races. When she sits down, I pull her into a deep kiss, squeezing the back of her neck and letting my fingers skim over her still erect nipples. When I pull away, she sighs and looks up into my eyes.
“You are exquisite,” I breath against her lips, dropping my hand further to her lap. “Who was that woman?” I ask, leaning back, but leaving my hand resting in her lap, against the tiny machine that is pressed against her clit.
She takes in a shaky breath but answers, “She saw us in the car, when you had your hand around my neck and was concerned for my safety.” She giggled a little as she took a sip of her water. “But I looked so happy and at ease when we came in, and then I seemed drunk when we got seated… She said she just had to ask me if I was OK.”
“Interestingly, she is still watching me like a hawk, so I’m wondering how you answered her questions,” I mutter, kissing down her jaw line to her neck.
“Well, Sir… I told her the truth. I told her I enjoy your control, and that I am elated and safe,” she looks up through her lashes and her lips curl and her cheeks flush, again. “I told her we are playing a game and asked her not to worry about me.” Her voice is soft and clear, and when she finishes her explanation, I continue to watch her as I press the remote again.
She smiles at me, wriggling only slightly as I push against the bullet with my finger, sinking it between her pussy lips. I move my lips to her ear and whisper, “I’m going to play a game, alright.”
Pulling my hand from her lap, I wrap my arm around her shoulder and nibble on her ear, sending goosebumps across her neck and down her arms. I pull my arm down slightly and wrap my fingers around the back of her neck as I increase the speed on the remote. Her eyes close and I feel her legs trembling under the table. I increase the speed again, and she turns her face towards mine taking in a sharp breath.
She stares into my eyes, and I see her desire, her excitement, her frustration and her submission. Her expression sends chills through me. She is completely mine, I could send her to orgasm right here in the middle of a restaurant. She wouldn’t question me, she wouldn’t try to stop me, and I’m fairly sure she would do anything I wanted her to in this moment.
The power is intoxicating and humbling at the same time. I exhale and lower the the speed on the remote until it is off. She whimpers and closes her eyes, resting her head on my shoulder. After a few moments, she straightens up, shifting in her seat to compose herself, and when she looks at me this time, it is my expression that surprises her.
“Sir?” I crush my lips to hers. I want to be inside of her, and in this public place, my tongue will have to do. When I sense we are being watched, I pull away to find our food being delivered. My beautiful girl lets out a blissful sigh as we stare into each others eyes while plates are set in front of us and our waitress clears her throat.
“If you need anything else, Sir, just let me know…” I watch my wife look up at her and smile one of those ‘Cat’s got the canary’ grins. After the server walks away, she looks back at me and sighs, “I think I am the envy of the room, this evening. Which such a doting, affectionate and commanding Sir on my arm…”
I chuckle, forcing myself not to glance around, as I turn toward my plate. I used to be uncomfortable with public displays of affection. But, I’ve found that I simply don’t care what others think. I own a magnificent, sexy and gorgeous wife. Why shouldn’t I kiss her and touch her whenever I please?
I have very little appetite this evening. For food, at least. But, decide I’d better eat quickly so that I can get my pretty one back into the car. I watch her slip a forkful of Salmon across her lips, and she makes a lovely little sound of enjoyment. She talks to me, sparkling and full of life, telling me stories about her week. I follow, laughing and nodding at the right times, but I can’t stop thinking about the panties…
When she has finally finished her plate, I ask her if she would like dessert, and she giggles as she whispers, “Not from here!” My cock twitches and I’m still semi-hard, I can’t wait to get out of there. When I wave down the waitress, I hand her my credit card without waiting for the bill, and ask her to hurry back. As she sashays away, trying to show off her little ass, I reach back into my pocket and settle my eyes on my lovely bride, who is giving the server a dirty look.
Her expression drops as the panties come alive and she presses her hands into her thighs again before pulling her focus to my face again. She’s thinking and worrying, probably wondering if people near us can hear the buzzing. I slide my hand up her back, under her hair and wrap my fingers around her neck from the back. Her reaction is not as instant as when I do this to her throat, but she looks into my eyes and her face softens. The concern clears and when she has released control to me again, she whispers, “Thank you, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
By the time the waitress returns with my credit card, I have the remote cranked all the way up and my wife is working hard to remain still and keep herself from panting. The waitress stares at my wife as I sign the receipt, a desperate expression on her face. My wife stares at me, clearly loaded with desire and I can only assume that women sense and envy what other women desire. When the girls attention settles back on me, with ‘Fuck Me’ eyes and a lustful smile, I chuckle internally. It amuses me that she would be drawn to flirt with a man who is clearly having a date night with his adoring wife.
I admonish her attention by giving her a vacant glare. My sweet girl whispers, but loud enough the server can hear her, “Sir, can we go, now, pretty please? I can’t share you with these jealous eyes for another moment.” As I stand and pull her up, I wrap my arms around her and kiss her, deciding she may have been right about the envy of the room. I allow my hand to fall to her ass, and give her a few light taps, just to give the other ladies something to think about.
Once we are in the parking lot, I pull her against me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I feel the panties vibrating against my nearly full erection and growl in her ear that I want to see them. She pants in my ear, “I can’t walk, Sir…”
I pick her up and carry her to the car, lifting her to sit on the hood while I attempt to fumble in my pocket for the car keys. She still won’t let go of me, and is now grinding against my dick, completely wound and ready to pop. The little bullet, vibrating between us, has caused her need to take over her body. Her hands grab and pull at my shirt, her lips quivering and popping out strained moans, while begging, “Please… please… please..”
I reach into my jacket pocket to turn off the remote, and she cries out. “Shhhh, settle, sweet wife,” I whisper, as I pull out the car keys. She whimpers and slides her fingers through my hair. I drop my other hand between us and under her dress. As I push my fingers under the soaked panties, she doesn’t calm down, but grips my arm, attempting to guide me, rush me. “I said, settle…” I growl against her lips as my fingers slide around her throat.
Her eyes flash open, glaring rebelliously into my eyes. Her expression changes rapidly. Emotions and thoughts fire inside her head before I remind her, “My body, naughty girl. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
As she releases the tension throughout her body, she inhales deeply and whimpers again. I wriggle my fingers around the panties to pull them off of her, and when I slide my hand back up the inside of her thigh, she holds her breath, waiting for the invasion she’s been longing for throughout dinner.
As I slide one finger into her and her breath comes out in a rush. I twist and feel her muscles clenching while a stifled moan escapes her throat. “Don’t hold it in, let me hear you.”
When I push another finger into her, I can feel her quivering. She wants me to go so much faster, but I take my time. Her silky wetness drips down my hand as I run my fingers over her G spot and then circle her clit with my thumb. “Relax, baby, I want you to feel everything,” I whisper into her hair and she moans and allows her muscles to soften.
I release her neck and slide my fingers down her chest and into her bra. Her nipples are hard and she gasps as I pinch one while pushing down harder on her clit. Her hips have slid to the edge of the car and she wraps her legs around me, so that every move of my hand is felt by both of us. As I increase the pressure on her clit and the speed of my fingers inside her, her moans get louder and tremors run throughout her body.
The noises coming from her start to change. I can feel her bearing down against my hand, so I slip a third finger in and wiggle them while using my other hand to rub her clit, hard and fast. Her muscles tighten around my fingers and a feel the gush, followed by her complete loss of control of her body.
She slides off the car, my hands are the only thing that prevents her from falling. I keep up as much action as I can, while pushing her body against the car. Her hips grind against me and the guttural sounds escaping her throat make me look around the lot, to make sure we’re still alone. A couple, sitting in a car across the lot are clearly watching us and enjoying the show, so I keep going, shifting her back up onto the car, and spreading her open as best I can without removing my hands.
She falls back, arching her back against the cool metal. As I find my rhythm again, her pussy grips my hand and I rotate my fingers. She convulses and I step back as she squirts again, this time, in a broken spray. Her screams, muffled by the arm she’s thrown over her mouth, drive me to push harder. To see how far I can take her.
As I hammer into her with my whole fist, I smack her clit several times and then lean over her to grasp her throat. “Come again, slut. Give it all to me…” I growl, staring at her gorgeous face.
My words push her high, and as she rolls over the edge, once again, she cries out, “Yessssssirrrr…”
As she rides the waves, I’m aware that I need to get her home before we get arrested. I glance at the car, the couple, still watching us, are clearly pleasuring each other. I smile at them as I straighten my sweet girls dress and scoop her up.
As I slide her into her seat, she looks up with those ocean blue eyes, her lips, full and soft, and her skin flushed. Her expression is molten and filled with need. As she raises her fingers to my cheek, I lower my lips so that they barely touch hers and whisper, “Still not satisfied, naughty girl?”
She whimpers as I glide my hand under her dress again. I barely wriggle the tips of my fingers across her pussy before she is writhing, forcing her arms to her sides to prevent her hands from pushing and guiding me further.
With my other hand, I pull the panties out of my pocket. “Perhaps a little more teasing on the ride home.”
I pull the tiny bullet out of the pocket inside the panties and slide it up and down her slit while reaching for the remote. When it comes on, she shudders and moans, and I push it into her folds, pressing against her clit. I push her knees together and breathe against her hair, “Don’t let it fall out, or your earlier punishment will be worse, when we get home.”
She whimpers and squeezes her thighs together tightly, as I close the door and walk to the drivers side of my Charger. I slide into my seat and increase the speed with the remote. She groans, her pelvis grinding into the leather, and her fingers gripping her knees.
My cock is throbbing, and I’m wishing I had jammed it into her while she was perched on the hood of my car, coming apart at the seams. As I pull out of the parking lot, I lower my zipper and maneuver my erection to spring free. When she sees it she shifts in her seat and looks up at me with longing in her eyes.
I reach over and grab her hand, closing it around me, stroking myself with it before commanding, “Don’t make me come.”
She slides her hand up and down my shaft, then trails her fingers gently over the tip. She shifts so that she can use both hands, while I press the remote again. Her body tightens as she endures the added pleasure, writhing in her seat and trying to focus on me. As she gets into a rhythm, my own moans push her further, and she leans down to take me into her mouth. I grip her by the back of the neck, and growl, “Not while I’m driving.”
She whines, but continues, her body crumbling under my control, her fingers driving me insane. I know I can’t take it for much longer, so I pull her back into her seat, telling her to stop.
She groans, and when I glance at her, she is staring at me, pleading, again, for release. Silently wishing the trip was complete so that our bodies can finally unite. Her desire makes me reach for her. I slip my hand into the front of her dress, groping her breasts and nipples, then I slide my hand up her neck to trace her face. I slip my thumb in her mouth and she swirls her tongue around it and then sucks on it, hard, and I feel it, deep in my groin.
“Touch me again, but do not make me come.” I grumble, the green fire in her blue eyes flashing, and as she shifts in her seat, I hear the vibrating nugget hit the floorboard. She grasps my dick in both hands, and looks into my face. A flash of guilt followed closely by a heady smirk sends a rush through me. I tut, and feign disappointment. “Such a bad girl. You let it fall…”
As her fingers slide up and down my throbbing erection, she whispers, “Oh, Sir. What are you going to do to me?”
As I exit the highway, I lightly grip her neck again, pulling her close to me and growl, “You’ll find out soon enough, my sweet little slut.” She moans against my lips, rubbing my shaft and circling the head of my cock with her fingers.
As I turn down our street, I grumble for her to move faster, and I let her bring me to the brink before shoving her back in her seat as I pull into our garage. When I turn off the car, she is panting, her excitement has only increased in the absence of the bullet. “Don’t move,” I bark, as I swing open my door.
I make it to her side in record time, and I roughly pull her from the seat. I’m not sure how far I’ll make it into my plan before I can no longer stop myself from drilling into her with all the pent up frustration I have allowed to build this evening. I press the button to close the garage before slamming her door and bending her over the hood of the car.
“Arms behind your back.” I order, lifting her dress and admiring her still pink cheeks, as she clasps her forearms against her raised dress. “I’m going to spank you hard, and I’m not sure for how long, so I want you to remember your safe words.” I smooth the hair from her face. Her eyes are closed and she is more than ready for my hand.
“Play, Sir, please…” She whispers, as I rub her behind with both hands.
The first few blows are sharp and sting my palm, but she doesn’t flinch. I watch her pussy get wetter as I lay several more on the outside of her cheeks, then down her thighs. My hand heats up quickly and I glide it over her lips to gather some of her dampness. I swat her hard with my wet palm, and she groans, loudly, her voice echoing against the darkness.
Her cunt drips on my shoe and I smack it hard, causing her body to jump a little and a cry to escape her throat. “Let me hear you, dirty girl. Tell me what a slut you are for enjoying this beating.”
She sucks in a deep breath and after I hammer down on her sex, several tight, hard slaps, she whines, “I’m a naughty slutt… Sir… I’m a slut who likes being punished.”
My dick jumps and I cannot ignore it any longer. I ram into her with such force that we both cry out, and them I pummel her wet pussy until she unclasps her arms to steady herself against the hood.
I pull out and yank her up, turning her around and ripping her dress over her head. Sweat trickles down her chest, and I notice how stifling it is in the garage, but I’m not ready to go inside yet. So much for plans.
I push her back against her truck parked beside us and force her legs apart as wide as possible. “Put your hands over your head and don’t move again.” I remove my shirt, and stand against my car, gazing at her body, admiring my prized possession.
I step forward and wrap my fingers around her throat again, pushing my body against hers so that my dick slides between her pussy lips, teasing her engorged little clit. “Say it again.”
She looks confused for a moment, but then whispers, “I’m a naughty slut…”
“And,” I rock back and forth, my cock growing even harder with the teasing.
“I like to be punished…” She moans, her eyes closing.
I step back and smack her pussy hard. Again, and again. Then I use one hand to stretch apart her lips while I pummel her clit with several more tight, little, slaps. Her hips buck and her groans are strained, her face contorted from the pain, then I push my fingers deep inside her and her expression softens and the lovely little noises that she always makes tickle my ears and make me want to hear her come once more.
So I drop to my knees, circle her clit with my tongue and rotate my fingers in and out before wiggling them inside of her. Her knees almost buckle, and as I suck her swollen little glans, I feel her waver again. I use my other hand to pinch her nipples and as I continue the assault from every direction, she whimpers and quivers and clenches. I feel her bear down again, so I stroke her G-spot while flicking her clit with my tongue and as her whole body trembles, I press my hand into her belly, holding her against the truck. Her whole body quakes and another gush of fluid sprays from her, down my chest and all over the floor beneath us.
Unintelligible words pour from her lips as her body convulses and the orgasm rips through her, all the way from her center. I’m completely supporting her weight, so I pick her up, leaning against my car and slide her onto my waiting, rock hard erection.
I wrap her arms around my neck and sink my teeth into her breast, causing her to convulse again, and start riding me. I grip her hips and thrust into her, each stroke feels incredible, and I feel the need to go deeper.
I turn and sit her ass on the hood, and drill into her as hard and fast as I can. She shouts my name and I wrap my hand around her throat again, using the leverage to push myself even deeper, even further. Her hands go crazy through my hair, all over my face, before I growl, “Pinch your nipples. Twist them…” She obeys, and the sight drives me further.
“Rub yourself, the way only you can. You need to come three more times…” Her eyes open wide, she doesn’t think she can do it. As she drops her fingers to her clit, and starts rubbing, I whisper how sexy she is, and how much I love the little sounds she makes while I fuck her.
She moans and I feel her pussy clench around me, milking me and pulling me in further. “Come, slut,” I growl. Then I watch as she lets go and her climax sends her flying.
I push her fingers out of the way and knead her swollen clit until she screams and explodes again. She writhes and twists, and I grip her thighs tightly while I push deep inside of her, her wet arousal dripping down my thighs and ass. “You are so fucking hot, wife. Let me have one more. Let me see you fly over the edge just once more tonight…”
“Oh, God,” she moans. “Sir, Please….” She is panting and bucking against me. I slide out of her and flip her around, bending her over the car again. I jam my cock into her hard, from behind, then smack her rosy pink ass with each stroke, before slipping one hand beneath her to assault her little button again, while pushing my other thumb into her asshole. Her body convulses, one final time.
Her scream sends me flying, and as I pour into her, my mind empties, my body crumbles and we both collapse onto the dirty, wet garage floor.
After several minutes, I realize she is out and that I’m going to have to carry her inside and clean her up. I can’t help but chuckle as I wonder if that couple in the parking lot ended their date as nicely as we did. I certainly can’t wait until the next Date Night.
…continued from The Assignment – Part 1
Under the water, it becomes clear that it is just adding to the arousal. I’m so tempted to just rub one out. My whole pussy tingles and clenches as my mind drifts to thoughts of His fingers on me. In me. Rubbing, pinching, pulling…
Oh boy, this is going to be a tough assignment.
I finish getting ready for the day, choosing to wear a loose, patterned skirt and a wrap blouse with a pair of low heels. While brushing my hair, I think the gel has worn off, but as I walk down the hallway, I am completely aware of my plump little button rubbing against the lace of my thong. I decide that today, only cotton panties will do.
My Sir is waiting for me in the kitchen when I finally make it downstairs. He and our little one are eating breakfast and chatting about toys or cartoons, most of which I cannot make sense of. My mind is flooded with concern about the day, about our schedule and whether I’ll be able to correct my blunder at the office. And of course, add in the worry about His assignment. He senses the weight on my mind, wraps His arm around my waste and whispers in my ear, “You are not allowed to get stressed out, today, remember, Sweet Wife?”
I frown and stare into His beautiful green eyes. “I’m really not sure I’m going to be able…” The look on His face tells me to stop.
He takes my hand and pulls me into the next room. “Is it too much to ask you to live life without letting it live you? Is that want you aren’t sure you can do?” His voice is low and brusque, and He holds both of my hands.
I hadn’t looked at stress that way before, and I didn’t know what to say. He lets go of my hands and glides His up my arms. He grasps my chin and lifts my face to look up into His. Then His hand falls around my neck and pulls my lips to His.
When He breaks away, I am breathless and loving his hand on my throat. This assertion of His Dominance over me is the one thing that immediately makes me drop my guard and completely allow Him to take control. If I fought it, He would either have to tighten His grip or release me, and I want neither. When He holds me this way, I feel my submission stronger than any other moment, even while being punished.
“Please try. Don’t allow the stress to lock down your mind. Follow my assignment, starting now if you need to. Every single time you feel overwhelmed, I want you to think of me. Touch yourself and imagine it is me. Remember that you are mine, and I would not allow you to get bogged down with worry, so you shouldn’t either.” His words reverberate through my mind before He kisses me again, this time wrapping His arms around me and caressing my sore bottom.
After we complete our morning routine and we part to begin our workdays, He messages me: “You. Are. Mine.” My heart fills with helium and floats away, and I spend the next hour in traffic, but completely carefree and smiling like a fool.
When I arrive at work, I remember my assignment. I make my way to the restroom and apply the gel. My clit burns and then swells, and I imagine His tongue circling me and igniting that fire deep inside me. When I feel moisture trickling out and down my thigh, I remove myself from the temptation of privacy, after cleaning up.
It doesn’t seem anything could get under my skin today. My employees all notice my good mood, and enjoy guessing the reasons, several even tell me that I’m glowing. I find a resolution to my missed deadline, and I don’t even get yelled at for the mistake (aren’t we always hardest on ourselves). When I finally have a break, it is a little early for lunchtime, but I decide to get application #2 out of the way.
This time, as a apply the gel, it doesn’t burn as much, and the tingling seems to last longer. My engorged clit throbs a bit, and I feel an incredible urge to lessen the pressure. I message my Sir to ask if I’m allowed to edge, if I promise not to come. As I’m slowly circling my clit waiting for His response, my phone rings. It’s Him!
“Hello, Sir.” I whisper into the phone.
“Hello, my naughty girl. What are you doing right now?”
“Um… I’m touching myself the way you told me to, Sir.”
“Are you wet?” His voice is so low, and soft, and I’m sure He is imagining me touching my pussy.
“Yes, Sir. Very.”
“Is your clit erect?”
“Oh, Yes, Sir.”
“I want you to slide two fingers inside your pussy and circle your clit with your thumb, like I would,” He orders, His voice getting raspy.
“Oh, God, Sir…” It feels so good, almost like it is Him.
“Now, push your fingers in and out, fast. Fuck your pussy.”
I’m moaning softly and clenching my muscles, my thumb hits my clit with each upstroke and I start doing it harder and harder.
“Put down the phone and smack your clit 10 times.”
I do as I’m ordered, spanking my clit quickly and firmly and I feel myself quiver. I pick up the phone and beg, “Please Sir, may I come, Please?”
“No. Stop touching yourself,” He commands. “You’re just too quick, dirty girl.”
I sigh and withdraw my hand, squeezing my thighs together to calm the crescendo that was building inside of me. I may have whimpered a little before I mumble, “Yes, Sir.”
He hears my pause. He knows me and feels what I feel. He whispers into the phone, “Are you my dirty little slut?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And what do dirty little sluts get?”
“Lots of sex, Sir.”
“What kind of sex?”
“The naughty kind, Sir.” I’m whispering as well, I don’t know why, no one can hear me, but it feel so wrong to talk like this over the phone.
“Oh yes, sweet girl. The best, naughty kind.”
I hear Him sigh and realize He must also be completely turned on right now. Maybe He wants to take me further? Maybe He is just as frustrated as me?
“Take off your panties,” He grumbles into the phone. “I want you soaking wet when you get home. I want you to call my Mom and ask her if they want to keep the boy overnight. Then I want you to go back into the bathroom, and call me back.”
“Yes, Sir.” I pant, my mind spinning with desire. I hear the line click and decide not to even leave the restroom. I remove my panties, shoving them into the pocket of my skirt. I dial my Mother-In-Law and have a conversation that I’m sure I will barely remember.
When I call Him back, my muscles are clenching with impatience. I don’t even wait for Him to speak, “She said yes. They will pick him up from school… Sir.” My breathing is fast and shallow, waiting for His dominance.
“How much time do you have left of your lunch?”
“Um, about 10 minutes, Sir.”
“I want you to lean your back against the door, slide your hand into your blouse and pinch your nipples.” I suck in a thin breath as I obey.
“Now, lift your skirt, spread your legs and rub your clit hard until I say stop.”
As my fingers find my engorged clit again, I moan softly while pushing and kneading the swollen knob. “That’s it, my sweet little slut, let me hear you enjoying it.”
The sound of His voice in my ear makes me picture Him standing in front of me, watching me pleasure myself, while sliding His own hand over His thick, hard cock.
I gasp a little and moan again before he tells me to stop. I whine but pull my hand away, completely His to command.
“I want you to slide down the door and sit on your heels, with your knees spread wide.”
“Okay, sir,” I breath, after lowering and opening myself to Him.
“Hold the phone down at your knee and spank your pussy again… 15 times. Don’t Come.”
The first blow sends a jolt through my body. The second and third are too light and I hear Him say, “Harder.” It is so much more sensitive in this position, but I lay the next 10 swats as hard as I can and then finish with two lighter ones. When I pull the phone back up to my lips, I’m whimpering and panting.
“Such a bad girl. I bet your pussy is bright pink and so, so wet. Slide your fingers inside like I would. Let me hear you finger fuck your cunt.”
I moan at His words and push my fingers in while lowering the phone. It feels so wrong. I feel like such a slut. As I push in and out, faster and faster, I don’t think I can stop the waves that are building. I pull the phone to my mouth and whine, “Please, Sir, please…”
“Not yet, nasty girl, I’ve got 3 minutes. Pinch your clit and pull it.” I gasp as I follow His command. “Now rub it, hard, in circles.” I’m so lost in the pleasure, I don’t even realize it’s me doing it. My hand feels detached from my body. I imagine Him watching me again, guiding my fingers, His beautiful dick right there in front of me. I feel myself quiver and quake. “Now, fuck your pussy again, hard.”
“Sir… I’m going to come.” He knows I can’t stop it in this position. I bear down to hold myself on the edge, my fingers sliding in and out and my thumb jamming against my clit.
“Do it, slut. Come all over the floor,” He growls and I let go.
I come apart and drop the phone so I can cover my mouth to muffle the noises involuntarily escaping my throat. I stop touching myself, but remain in that position, riding the aftershocks and steadying my breathing.
When I pick up the phone and breath, “Thank You, Sir. Oh, thank You!” He chuckles and tells me how much He loves listening to me. “The noises you make are incredible, Sweet Wife.”
“Now, maybe that will keep you from having to touch yourself until your last application.” His breath is slightly shallow, but His deep voice is so in control, so powerful. “Go back to work. I hope you can eat your lunch while you’re working. I’ll speak to you in a few hours.”
After cleaning and collecting myself, I return to my desk and go through the motions of my job with ease. I seem to move through the rest of the afternoon as though I’m hypnotized. Easily finishing one task after the next. Perhaps we should spend every lunch break like that!
At 5pm, I quickly collect my things and make my way to the restroom for my final application. I call Him before I do it and I hear His smile when He answers, “Hello, Sweet Girl. How was the rest of your afternoon?”
“It was lovely, Sir. Easy as pie!” I giggle and pull out the the little bottle. “I’m just getting ready for the last part of my assignment.”
“Oh? You think that’s the last of it? Hmmm, well, go ahead then. Did you put it on?”
“Just now, Sir.”
“Rub it in good.”
“Ah… Yes, Sir.”
“Does it sting?”
“It burns and tingles a bit. And now my clit is swelling up, and is really sensitive. …Sir.”
“Does it hurt to pinch it?”
“Mmmmm, no Sir.”
“How would it feel if I sucked on it?”
“Oh… I… It would feel intense, I’m sure.”
“Get your sweet ass home and we’ll find out!” He growls deep into the phone. “But keep me on the phone, I want to make sure you stay all wound up in the car.”
…to be continued in The Assignment – Part 3.
I have had the longest day. Between a missed deadline at work, an hour’s worth of traffic, and an overtired Kindergartener, my mood is deplorable.
And it’s coming through in my attitude.
My Sir is a patient man, but my sassy mouth has just gotten me into very, big trouble.
I was packing lunches and making snarky remarks about anything I could form an opinion about. But now, I’m bent over our desk getting a very, tough paddling. We are 20 blows in, my knuckles are white from holding the edge of the desk too tightly, and my cries are being muffled by my panties stuffed into my mouth.
“You need to learn to be respectful, Wife. Even after a bad day,” He barks, before laying down ten more wacks.
He pulls the panties from my mouth, leaning over me from behind. “Tell me why you are being punished.”
“I was acting out and mouthing off. …SIR.” My voice is squeaky and breathless, but still filled with the contempt that got me in this predicament.
“It sounds like we are not done yet,” He growls in my ear before stuffing the panties back into my mouth. “Do not make a sound.”
As His paddle makes contact even harder than before, tears sting my eyes. But with each additional hit, my mind starts to empty and the pain begins to feel different. CLEARER. My brain shuts down. The stress of the day melts away. My body, is His again. Not my own. I am His completely, as it should be.
He senses the transition and leans forward again, tugging the panties from my teeth. He pulls my hands free from the desk and sinks to the floor with me in His lap. I have no idea how many blows I got, but my ass is singing and is nearly on fire.
“Are you with me, are you ok? Can you talk?” He whispers against my hair. Possibly misunderstanding my sobs.
The tears flow freely now and I say the only thing I can. “I’m so sorry, Sir.”
He holds me, strokes my hair, and kisses away my guilt. “Good Girl. It’s ok, sweet wife.”
As He cradles me and comforts me, all of the negative emotion that possessed me all day is replaced. I am filed with love. I am enveloped in the security of His arms. I am coated in the sanctuary of His domination.
When the tears subside, He helps me into bed. He massages salve into my tortured behind. He wraps Himself around me, and I drift to sleep. His devotion, a soothing balm for my soul.
The next morning, He wakes me early. “Wake up, my beautiful girl.” He kisses my shoulder, twists my nipple, and tugs. I start to shift, thinking we have time for a quickie, but He has me pinned.
“I have an assignment for you today.” His hand glides to the other nipple and then trails down my soft belly, igniting sparks in its path.
“Whenever you feel stressed today, you are to go to the restroom and think of me and what I’m doing to you right now.” His finger slides against my clit and circles it, lightly. “I want you to do this, exactly. But, No longer than 30 seconds, you understand?”
I’m already very wet, and silently wishing He wouldn’t make me touch myself at work, but I know He means business, so I answer sweetly, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good Girl. Then, when you first arrive at work, then again at lunch, and before you leave, I want you to put one drop off this on your finger, and touch yourself the same way.” He holds up a tiny bottle, places a drop on His finger and rubs it on.
Suddenly, I feel tingling and then a slight burning, but as He massages it in, I feel the blood surging into my little nub. It feels as though new nerve endings have awoken, and I start to try to grind my pussy against His fingers.
But, He pulls His hand away, admonishing me. “Oh, no, no, no, naughty girl. This is a lesson. A lesson in respect and control. You respect me enough to complete this assignment, and you will be rewarded this evening. ALL evening.”
He raises His hand to my chin, to look me in the eye, then lowers it to my throat, and rumbles against my lips, “But if you fail, lose control and choose to bring yourself to orgasm, you’ll be punished, ….again. Do you understand?”
I’m pressing my thighs together, the heat in my pussy is way too much for me to ignore, especially three more times! But, I force those thoughts out of my head. If this is what my Sir wants from me, this is what I must do.
“Y-Yes, Sir. I… I understand,” I whimper, involuntarily wiggling my hips.
“Good Girl.” His hand slides back down, and He lowers His lips further so that our mouths are just touching. His fingers tease my engorged, tingling button, and my back arches. “So eager, my little slut. You really want a preview, don’t you!”
I moan my assent, softly, and His fingers slide into me. “Oh God… ” I breath, bucking for more, trying hard to grind against His hands.
But He raises His hand again, to my throat, “Uh, uh, uhh, dirty girl. No previews. Remember the lesson. Remember your submission…”
And with those words, He leaves me to get ready for the day.
I cling to the sheet to keep my fingers from taking the place of His. It takes several minutes to calm myself enough to hope that a shower will wash off the gel, and make me feel normal again.
Under the water, it becomes clear that it is just adding to the arousal. I’m so tempted to just rub one out. My whole pussy tingles and clenches as my mind drifts to thoughts of His fingers on me. In me. Rubbing, pinching, pulling…
Oh boy, this is going to be a tough assignment.
….to be continued in The Assignment – Part 2
“I hope you can regain some energy, because we aren’t finished.” He says into my hair in a low, husky voice.
“I want more,” he growls, and my heart starts hammering in my chest again.
He holds me against His chest for a few more minutes, before helping me to stand. I lean back against the island, trying to regain my strength. He reaches over the counter and picks up our shopping bag from one of the stools.
“I can’t wait to see you in this new outfit.” He hands it to me and kneels down to pick up my clothes. As He stands, my Sir presses Himself against me.
“Looking at you, standing naked in my kitchen, is making it difficult for me to clean up,” He sighs against my ear, and I feel His dick, still hard, twitch against my hip.
“Go upstairs. Clean yourself up. Get ready to give me a show.” His empty hand glides up my body, over my erect nipple and up to my chin, a low rumble of appreciation coming from His lips. “I’m so not done with you…”
He pulls me away from the counter and steers me toward the stairs where He smacks my bottom, inciting me to move more quickly.
When I reach the second floor, I wonder how I could not be exhausted. The sum of today’s events should have completely drained me, but I feel more alive and energetic than I have in ages.
I’m on my way to my closet with my purchases in hand and, when I catch a glimpse of my self in the mirror. I’m struck by the reflection staring back at me.
I’m not the sweaty mess I expected, but radiant and sexy. My nipples are a beautiful shade of raspberry and still pointed, which seems like it might be permanent. My skin is dewy. My hair is messy, but with that ‘freshly fucked’ look. My stomach seems flatter, my face younger, my body sexier. Hmm… Have I found the fountain of youth?
I giggle at my myself and brush my hair out, then twist it up into a knot. I grab a towel and hop in the shower to rinse off. I quickly towel off and rub down my arms and legs with chocolate body butter. I step into my walk-in and slip into the new black nightie, thigh-high stockings and the chrome bottom stilettos. I take down my hair and brush it out again with my head flipped over. I decide to leave it down, because my Sir likes it that way, but I slip the hair band over my wrist, just in case.
After applying a little mascara, I step back to admire my Sir’s new purchase. The nightie has low demi cups sewn into the bodice, which lift my breasts and barely cover my nipples. It is edged in a satiny, silver ribbon, perfectly matching the shoes. The bottom is sheer, revealing that I have no panties beneath, with more of the silver ribbon along the edge.
I feel like such a sex kitten as I dab a bit of perfume behind my ears and step out into the bedroom.
My Sir is seated in a chair at the far end of the room. He’s removed His shirt and shoes, but is still wearing His pants. He is holding His phone and as I strut towards Him. He watches me approach with heat in His eyes and appears to click a few pictures.
The room is dim but slightly pink from the setting sun outside, and He’s lit several candles. I continue towards Him until He holds up His hand to stop. He twirls His finger around in the air, silently telling me to turn.
I spin in a slow circle, the back definitely revealing the absence of panties. He makes a low rumble of appreciation and takes several more pictures as I complete my turn.
“You’ve pleased me so much today, sweet wife. And I’m going to reward you, diligently, in a little while.” He holds up a pair of black leather cuffs and motions me forward with His finger, “But first, come here and turn around.”
I follow His command, very surprised to see Him holding cuffs. He has not shown any interest in buying toys in the past, and only recently began tying me with scarves and other items from our bedroom. As He pulls my arms behind me, he attaches them to my wrists and then to each other, then guides me to turn back around.
“Now, kneel in front of me.” His voice is like an aphrodisiac, and I notice my juices dripping down my legs as I start to lower myself in front of Him. He holds my waist, to help me to my knees, and then pushes them apart with His foot. “Further,” He growls when He meets resistance. I force my legs apart as far as I can, already panting and dripping on the carpet.
His fingers trace down my cheek to my jaw, over my lips and down my chest to the edge of the nightie. “This was a very good choice. I especially enjoy that it did not come with panties.” His voice is deep and His eyes glimmer in the candlelight. My muscles clench as His fingers near my nipples through the fabric.
“Hmmm, are you sore from my torture earlier? Shall I see how much more you can take?” His throaty whisper sends electricity straight to my pussy, and I let out a little moan. “Ah, I’ll take that as a yes.”
He pulls something from His pocket, and as He leans forward, I see it is a set of small, tweezer style nipple clamps on a thin, shiny chain. Oh, my. Sir HAS gone shopping!!
He slides His thumb under the fabric and pulls it down, under each breast. He attaches the left one first and I whimper slightly, but then moan as He attaches the other. He tugs lightly on the chain and I hiss at the interesting sensation. My lips part and my eyes close as His fingers continue to trail down my body until they reach under the nightie, for my wet, swollen clit.
I moan, arching for more, and hear Him suck in a deep breath as He slides his fingers into my slit, easily moving into my cunt. “You are so fucking wet. How can you be ready so soon? You must be a naughty little slut.”
I open my eyes to see Him withdrawn His fingers and bring them to His lips. “Hmmm, so sweet. Taste!” Then He rubs His fingers on my lips and slips them into my mouth. I lick and suck them, whining and panting heavily when He withdraws them.
“How about a taste of something else, dirty girl?” He says as He stands and pulls down His pants.
His hard cock springs free and I eagerly move forward to get Him into my mouth. “Patience, little slut…” He admonishes as he removes His pants completely and sits back down on the chair.
I lean forward, between His legs and swirl my tongue over the tip and then down the shaft. I kiss my way back up and then repeat the circuit several times before taking Him in my mouth. I massage the head with my tongue as I suck slightly and push my lips down over His length until I feel him at the back of my throat. I cannot take Him completely in at this angle, but I do my best, sucking, swirling and moving over Him until I’m moaning and I hear His breathing change.
I pull away and lick down His length again, to his balls. I cannot use my hands as I usually do, so I kiss them and suck them and then push him completely into my mouth again. I moan against His hot, hard dick when He grabs my hair, to control my actions. He forces in and out of my mouth, groaning when my teeth scrape against His shaft. I feel Him pulsing and suddenly He puts both hands on either side of my head, fucking my mouth and pushing deep into my throat. I gag with the a few thrusts, but swallow through them, causing Him to come unhinged, shouting my name and cursing.
His white, hot cum pumps down the back of my throat and I suck Him fully into my mouth so I can swallow every last drop.
When I pull away, He lays His head back, growling His appreciation and riding out the aftershocks of His orgasm. I watch Him, while panting and trembling from the strenuous workout my abs just managed.
After a few moments, He raises His head and looks at me. I can’t hold His gaze and drop my eyes to the floor. He lifts my chin, skimming my lower lip with His thumb. His hand glides down to my throat and He leans forward and kisses me.
His lips crush into mine and He thrusts His fiery tongue into my mouth. I moan and allow Him full access, rocking forward and up. But then He pulls back, leaving me stretching and straining for more.
“Stand up, face away from me, and bend down.” He commands. I pull myself back, and, struggling only a little, I manage to stand and turn. As I bend forward, He helps me to steady myself, with His hands on my hips. He lays my chest on a table in front of us and spreads my legs wide with His.
One hand falls between my legs, cupping my sex. He makes that lovely sound, deep in His chest and says, “Always so wet. You love sex, don’t you, little slut? You love all the dirty, nasty things I do to you and make you do…”
His fingers begin working in and out of me, as I moan my agreement. “Say it, tell me…” He growls and starts to pull His hand away.
“Please….” I beg, finding it difficult to form a statement.
He smacks me hard on my left cheek, it stings, and I cry out, “I’m a dirty slut!”
He rewards me with two fingers in my cunt, “Tell me, tell me what you like.”
“I like you fucking my mouth, I like swallowing your cum!” I moan and whimper, as He circles His thumb over my asshole.
“Why? Why do you like that?” He pounds his hand inside my dripping pussy while His other hand starts landing sharp blows against my ass.
“Because….” I’m panting, whining and pulsing for the touch that will send me over the edge. “Because I’m a dirty, nasty slut.”
The thumb on my ass hole slides back and forth, smearing my moistness up into the hole and then tries to push in while His other hand reaches beneath me. “Tell me what you love,” He breathes as He starts spanking my swollen clit, lightly, from under me.
“Ah….. I….. I love…. Ah…. I love what you do to me! AH….” One especially sharp blow makes me convulse, and He seizes the opportunity, kneading my clit while pushing His other fingers into me, harder and harder.
“Don’t come, slut, don’t come!” He yells as my pussy clenches around His fingers. When He feels me bear down, He pulls His hands away and I collapse on the floor in front of Him, writhing and whimpering for release, for more, for His Dominant touch.
He scoops me up and carries me to the bed, laying me on my side and separating my cuffs. He slips off my nightie and shoes, and then slides each silky stocking down my legs, while humming a low grown of delight. He then spreads me out, attaching my wrists to something at the corners of the bed. My head is spinning when I feel His fingers attaching cuffs to my ankles and stretching me so that I am completely open and exposed.
After a few moments, I notice He is gone. I search the room, but don’t see Him. My body is calming and my breath slowing, and I focus on listening for Him, letting my eyes close. I finally hear His steps and open my eyes. He’s standing above me, His eyes sweeping over my body.
“Is my little slut ready for more?” He whispers, lowering His face close to mine. I want kiss Him, but I cannot reach Him. He sees my frustration and lowers His lips to hover over mine.
“I can see that you are,” He grins and yanks the forgotten chain between my nipples, sending a dull ache through each one. I gasp and arch my back to give slack to the chain, but He tugs again. This time I cry out, and the pain seems to shoot right to my clit, which throbs and aches for His touch.
He chuckles and tells me it’s time for real fun. I can’t imagine!
I relax as He releases my tortured points and watch as He walks to the base of the bed. He pulls something from the floor and kneels on the bed, bending between my legs to kiss that most intimate part of my body.
His tongue swirls around my engorged clit, then His lips close around it and He sucks on it. The sensation is too intense, and I try to buck Him off but can’t. I cry out, “PLEASE.. No, please..”, but He doesn’t quit.
He pushes two fingers inside of me, and pushes up into that spot that burns, but feels so good. Then, as the waves build again and my body clenches and quivers, He pulls away completely. Again, I beg, “No, please, Sir! PLEASE!”
He takes no pity on me, and instead, kisses and strokes every part of my body, except the spots that would send me flying over my climax. I moan and beg some more, “Oh, please Sir, please let me come.”
“Not yet, sweet one. Not yet…” He breathes in my ear and His lips skim over my neck and jaw. My muscles relax and I begin to enjoy the frustration, and anticipate His next move.
As my breathing slows, He glides back down between my legs and kisses my pussy lightly. I hear something click on, followed by a low buzzing. I look down to see Him holding a wand and pushing it between my thighs.
The vibrations are jarring at first and I groan as He finds the right spot. His fingers slide into me, beneath the machine and the combination of pleasure is mind blowing.
He pulls the wand away slightly, blowing on my hot clit, and changing the direction of the waves. My mind clouds and when He smacks my clit several times and blows again, I can no longer think.
My body is just a bundle of electricity. His lips sink down to my clit again, sucking, blowing some more. Back to the vibration. I must have gone completely still because my Sir stops and asks me for a safeword. When I reply, “Play, Sir…” without opening my eyes, He rumbles, “Good Girl,” and pushes the wand back against me, His fingers working up into me at a feverish rhythm.
I’m sweating, and panting, and mumble, incoherently. Suddenly, He tugs the chain hard and the clamps release my nipples. The pain seers through me, deep into my cunt. The heat inside me is incredible and the waves of pleasure building inside are hypnotic. I can’t hear anymore and don’t even try to open my eyes. I am completely lost in the sensations pummeling my body.
He changes direction again, but I have no idea what he’s doing to me, I can only focus on the extreme pleasure flowing over me. It’s excruciating and uplifting and I suddenly realize how high I am, the waves inching me further and further. I feel a thud and more vibrations, and a gush.
All of my nerve endings fire. All of my muscles quake. And then I’m soaring through my own body, feeling everything. The waves continue to crash against me, my pussy clenching tightly around Sirs fingers. I hear Him, turn off the wand as the tremors continue to rack my body.
“Is that enough, nasty girl? Or does my little slut want more?” He growls, hovering over me, His sweat dripping on my breasts.
I open my eyes and lick my lips. “M-More?” I can’t comprehend, unsure if the orgasm has even ended.
He leans back and snacks my clit. “Ok, more then, dirty girl, until you beg me to stop.”
He spanks my pussy several more times, before ramming his hand into my slit, curling and uncurling His fingers. He uses His other hand to alternate rubbing and smacking my clit until I’m over the edge again, the pain making the pleasure exquisite. I’m writhing and quaking, every aftershock only building towards the next climax.
Soon, I’m flying overhead, watching His assault on my body, a string of curse words coming out of my mouth. He’s watching me intently, His cock, rock hard again, bobbing against His leg. I suddenly want Him inside of me more than anything in the world. I want His body on top of me and I want to feel His complete control.
“Please, Sir, Fuck Me.” I force the words from my lips, still unable to open my eyes. “Please, I need You.”
I feel His hands withdraw and His body move, but when I don’t feel His weight on top of me, I force my eyes open.
He’s standing next to me, watching me, watching my body writhe of its own accord. He licks His lips as His eyes find mine. “What do want?” He growls.
“You, Sir. Please?” My voice is raspy and faulty.
He smacks my pussy again, hard. “No. What does my little slut want?”
“…..Sir, ….I ….I want You to fuck me.”
Three more hard blows and He grabs my nipple and squeezes. “I have been fucking you. What. Do. You. Want?” He roars, smacking my clit between the last four words.
My mind spins as the pleasure pain pumps into me, pushing my body beyond my limits of comprehension. “I need Your cock inside of me,” I cry out. “I need you on top of me, claiming me, taking what’s Yours.” I’m almost screaming as He continues to spank my pussy. “I need You to make me feel safe and I need to make You come,” I breathe, and stare into His eyes when He stops and kneads that precious bundle of pleasure.
“Please, Husband!” I beg, clenching under His stroking fingers.
He climbs on top of me and rests His diamond hard cock against my clit, sliding it up and down my slit, making me whimper.
“You want me inside of you?” He breathes against my lips, and I nod.
“You NEED me inside of you?” His lips brush against mine, and I moan under His teasing.
“Who do you belong to?” He grunts, as He pushes into me. I moan, “You,” in response.
He thrusts into me hard and growls, “Who?” as His fingers wrap around my jaw.
“You, Sir. My Husband. My dominant.” I breath, rocking my hips to increase the friction.
“Good Girl. Do you want to come again?” He asks, moving slowly, inciting me to whine, “Please, Sir!”
He answers by pounding into me and crushing His lips into mine. He pushes His tongue into my mouth and brings one hand to my nipple. It is so sore that He isn’t even squeezing before I cry out into his kiss.
He changes tactics and brings His hand to my neck. His fingers wrap around it as He raises himself up with into His other arm. As He tightens His grip lightly, and finds the perfect direction, He slams into me, pushing down with His hand and up with His pelvis, rubbing my engorged clit, unintentionally.
As He drills into me, and the waves build again, I feel such unimaginable security that I completely let go. His control over my body feels more right than even my own and I soar over the edge, breathless and intoxicated.
The waves of pleasure are endless as He releases my wrist cuffs and wraps my arms around His neck. His own arm slides beneath me, crushing me against His chest as He continues to rock in and out of me. I stroke His hair, down His back and match His rhythm with my hips. I’m not sure if I’m still in the middle of one orgasm, or if I’m starting another, but I clench around His cock, pounding into me and He shouts, demanding I come one more time.
His orders send me up on a huge wave, flying higher, and His dick pulses inside of me as we both explode against each other, pushing past climax into delirium. As his aftershocks cease, He collapses on top of me. My body, not quite finished, is twitching and quaking beneath Him.
He knows my pussy so well, understanding that my last orgasm is incomplete, and He slips His hand between us to massage those last waves out of my clit. I scream as they crash and I liquefy beneath Him. Breathing my love and devotion into His ear.
I open my eyes to find Him starting at me, His hand on the side of my face.
“There she is, my sweet, sweet wife.” I smell my Arnica and Calendula salve, and feel the sheets between us. My ankles are free and he looks as though he’s showered. “You’ve been out for quite a while. Are you OK, baby girl?”
He’s propped on one elbow, and the look in His eyes is that unnamed emotion that only comes from ownership of something beloved.
I sigh and search my body mentally. My arms and legs are tight from being restrained. My nipples ache from the torture of ice, clamps, and Him. My neck hurts, possibly slightly bruised. And worst of all, my pussy is on fire and my clit is raw and hot, most definitely swollen. The heat is sure to last for several days.
I smile up at His beautiful face and say, “Yes, Sir. I’m absolutely perfect.”
And as He smiles and leans down to kiss me, I wonder how soon He will manipulate that heat for His pleasure, again.
*Special Note: I’m so pleased that so many of you have enjoyed this series. I would like to write more of these, and would love any thoughts, advice or ideas from those of you more experienced in the BDSM and/or D/s lifestyle. Leave comments here, or, Please, feel free to email me anytime!
I am sweating, with the ‘Indian Summer’ sun blazing down on me at 7:15am. The heat is unreal, but I push myself to continue. Walking usually helps me get centered, and I especially enjoy walking on the weekends, when I have extra time to enjoy nature. This morning, though, I’m cursing myself for not limiting my miles, knowing it was going to be a scorcher. But, as Fionna Apple is crooning in my ears about being an ‘Extraordinary Machine’, and I’m propelled forward, strong and capable.
When I arrive home, I hear my Sir on the phone and peak in to see what my favorite guys are up to. My little one is practicing writing and begs me to come look when he sees me. As I pass, Sir comments that it must be hot outside, winking at me. I smile and blush, knowing that I’m a sweaty mess. After I help my son with his project for a moment, I step into the kitchen to refill my water bottle.
As I gulp down the icy cold refreshment, Sir sneaks into the kitchen behind me. I finish my drink, and He lays His hands firmly on my shoulders, guiding my arms down and forcing me to set down the bottle. He pushes His body against my back, moving me forward so that my belly and thighs are flush with the island in front of me. His hands are on top of mine, on the counter, and His hot breath finds my ear.
“Go upstairs, strip out of those sopping wet clothes, take a long, relaxing soak in the tub, and don’t get out until I come to get you.” His lips part against my sweaty neck while His hands slide up my arms, over my breasts, and down my sides. His fingers find their way down my tummy, over the front of my pants to my pussy. He glides His fingers back and forth over the fabric a couple of times before stepping back, leaving me panting.
I stand paralyzed for a moment before His hand lands hard on my ass and He growls, “Go, now!” I glance back to see Him grinning at me, His eyes full of desire. Oh my!
As I sashay upstairs, I suddenly feel incredible. The exhaustion and tightness I felt just a few moments ago has melted into a delicious anticipation throughout my body. But as soon as I reach our bedroom, I reconsider my excitement. Our son is home and rarely takes naps anymore, so the likelihood of any afternoon delight is very slim.
I plunk down next to our garden tub, cranking the faucet and telling myself that a whole day of anticipation will only make our play time this evening that much more thrilling. As I strip out of my sweaty shorts and tank top, I catch a glimpse of my reflection. I slowly slide out of my sports bra, skimming my palms over my nipples and down over my soft belly. I’ve learned to love my body over the past months, reveling in my femininity. Celebrating the curves of my hips and the fullness of my breasts. I so enjoy the expression on my Husband’s face when He watches me undress in front of Him each night. I picture what He might look like now, watching me touch myself, thrilled with the sight.
Feeling wanton and slutty for fantasizing about my Sir while He plays with our son just below me, I slip out of my panties and mimic the movement His fingers made over my pussy just moments ago. I lift my other hand to my nipple, pinching and pulling it, just as He would. I gasp at the sensations and decide to stop before I get myself into trouble.
I sink into the bubbles and inhale the lovely scent I chose, sweet and floral. Sexy. I lay back, close my eyes and allow the water to sooth me. After soaking a while, I shampoo my hair, carefully rinsing all of the suds with fresh water. I scrub and shave, making sure that I’m smooth all over. I love the feel of my pussy under the hot water and have to remind myself again that I’m not allowed to masturbate.
My clit aches and throbs under the water as my willpower wanes. I scrub my heels again, trying to telepathically beckon my Sir to come get me. Willing Him silently to slide His hand beneath the water and touch me. I try to push the thought away, lying back and drying my hands so that I can put in my earbuds and listen to some music as I soak. Poe fills my head with ‘Hey Pretty’, the long version. Oh no, that won’t work, far too sexy. I scroll through my library, searching diligently for something unsexual.
I opt for a lovely song, ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ that reminds me of friends I don’t know anymore, and the melancholy thought works to drive the sexual thoughts from my mind. When the song ends, I realize my bubbles are gone and the water is tepid. I hope my Sir lets me get out before it gets too cold.
With that thought, I open my eyes and glance toward the doorway. He stands there watching me, His eyes filled with heat and lust. I feel my cheeks flush and I suck in a quick breath.
“Well, Sweet Girl, have you enjoyed your soak?” He smirks, walking toward me and kneeling beside the tub.
“Yes, Sir.” I exhale, wondering if He is going to touch me.
He leans in to brush His lips against mine, “Is there anything you need to tell me?” He grins.
“Yes, Sir. I touched myself, but I didn’t masturbate. I promise,” I whisper, hoping our son is still downstairs.
“Let’s just see,” He breathes as He slides His hand beneath the water right to my clit. He circles it with His thumb, and slides His index finger into me. I gasp and moan quietly, then whimper as He pulls His hand away, satisfied that I was truthful. “Good girl,” He growls.
“Now, get yourself out and ready, we’re going to take our son out this afternoon. Wear that red blouse that I like, with the lacy red bra.” He smiles down at me, finding my pout amusing. “And a skirt. Wear a skirt today, Sweet Wife, so I can have easy access to that pretty pussy of mine.”
Oh geez. This is going to be a long afternoon!
As I dress, I opt for a white denim skirt. I had already chosen a red lace thong, and worried that it might show through, I consider changing, but thoughts flash of undressing in front of my Sir later that evening. He loves that part of the evening, and slipping out of my skirt to show off a pair of white cotton panties does not strike me as exciting. After I finish dressing, I stare at my reflection. Can you see them? Is it obvious?
I decide the denim is too thick, and if anyone can see, they are looking too close and deserve to glimpse my naughty, red panties. I blush at the thought and it makes me instantly wet.
After slipping into a pair of red, peep-toe sandals, I make my way downstairs to find my Sir and make sure He approves. He is sitting on the sofa, and His eyes grow wide, taking me in from head to toe. I’ve worn my hair half up, cascading in curls over one shoulder. The red, cold-shoulder blouse, open just enough at that chest to give an idea of the lovely demi-cup bra lifting my breasts beneath. It is tucked in, and my skirt covers just enough of my thighs to be suitable for a family excursion, but reveals my smooth, muscular legs, which look especially sexy in kitten heels.
He stands and walks over to me, reaching down to clasp my hand and guide me to turn around. A lovely rumble of appreciate escapes His throat, and He pulls me into His embrace so that His lips are at my ear. “Sweet Wife, you could not look any sexier if you had come down here nude!” His voice full of lust, his cock stiffening against my hip. I find myself wet again and nearly panting in His arms. I try to pull away for some reprieve, but He holds me tightly and growls in my ear, “I know you’re soaking wet under that skirt. I can’t wait to slip my fingers inside you and lap up those sweet juices this evening.”
Oh holy shit, I may have convulsed, my breathing is heavy and fast, and as he releases me, I have to steady myself against the wall to keep my knees from giving out. How does He know exactly what to say all the time?
Once I regain my composure, I follow Him into the kitchen and ask Him what our plans are for the afternoon. Our boy runs in from the dining room to tell me we are going out to lunch and shopping. “Then Grandma is having us over for PASTA! And she wants me to spend the night!” He is jumping up and down, and I’m tempted to join Him. Knowing that my Sir has planned this all, I glance over at Him to see an almost evil grin on His lovely face. I feel the heat fill my cheeks again, and that lovely burn travels all the way down my meridian.
“That sounds like fun!” I say to my little boy, “Do you already have your bag packed?”
He nods at me excitedly, “Yeah, Daddy helped me. We’re just waitin’ on you!”
“Ok, well let’s go then!” I laugh, glancing at my Husband adoringly. He reaches out and holds my chin while stepping in to kiss me. “Thank You, Sir,” I whisper as He turns me around to follow our son. As we walk slowly down the hallway, he slides His hand beneath my skirt and between my thighs.
“I sure hope these are red,” He breaths into my hair from behind as his fingers stroke the lacey fabric between my legs. He breaks away just as quickly and leaves me reeling once again. “Let’s go, Sweet Wife. We have a full day ahead!” He chuckles as I glance back at Him, wide eyed and open mouthed. We sure do!
We eat lunch at our little one’s favorite restaurant, indulging him in several arcade games after and then head off to Target. I browse leisurely through clothes and shoes while my guys venture off to the toy department. I try on several pairs of shoes, texting a picture of a particularly sexy pair of heels. They are patent leather, 6″ spike heels with a chrome band around the bottom, and look like something a stripper might wear. “Buy them,” He texts back, making me smile. After browsing lingerie and books, I catch up with them looking at movies.
Sir peers into the cart while I lift up a jacket I found for our son for his approval. He nods and I motion into the cart where a sheer black nightie lays on top of the shoes. He raises His eyebrows. “No?” I question, not wanting to misinterpret His signals. “Oh, yes, wife. Absolutely!” His lips curl into that wicked smile once again. “You can model the whole outfit for me later.”
The store is hot, and I feel the sweat prickling the back of my neck. I fan myself with my hand as we make our way to the check out. I start to pull the clip from my hair so that I can twist it up to get it off my neck, but I catch His eye and He shakes His head. I fix it back to its original style with a little pout. He leans toward me and says very quietly, “If it’s bothering you, you may put it up. But I will reward you later if you leave it down for now.” Mmmmm…
Our son, completely oblivious to anything going on between His parents, is anxious to finish checking out. Excited and happy, he babbles about how much fun this weekend is. He glances at the candy longingly for only a moment, but Sir walked off to the front of the store. My little boy rarely asks me anymore if I will buy him something, he knows that his Daddy decides those things.
I often wonder if he finds it strange that I don’t give him permission to do or buy things. I often worry what that looks like to him. But it’s moments like this, where he is so joyful that set my mind at ease. He hugs my hips, and smiles up at me. “I love you, Momma!”
“I love you too, Angel!” I say, grinning down at him, feeling that glorious emotion that only a Mother knows. After we pay, he helps me by carrying one of the bags, and we stroll towards the entrance searching out his father.
He’s coming toward us an iced coffee and an ICEE, when our little one shouts, “YES! You ROCK, Daddy!” I laugh as He hands me my drink. I know that our son will only take a few sips of the other frozen drink, so his excitement amuses me. The ICEE is more for Daddy than son. But I concede, “You do rock, Daddy!” Smiling up at him as we walk out of the store.
I love the example He sets for our son, being kind and generous, but firm about the details that elude so many parents. He guides us and disciplines us so that we are always on the same path.
When we arrive at the Grandparents home, my ‘baby’ boy surprises me by unbuckling his seat belt and opening the door by himself, rushing out to greet Grandpa in the garage. As I unbuckle my belt, my Sir lays his hand on my thigh and leans towards me, letting his fingers slide beneath my skirt and entirely too high for our proximity to His parents.
“I can’t stop thinking about those panties, Sweet Girl, so when we get inside, I want you to go to the restroom and take them off so you can give them to me.” His voice is low and raspy. I don’t even have time to respond before he exits the car.
He sees that I’m not getting out, and saunters over to my side to open the door for me. Taking my hand, He pulls me out of the car, and slides His hand up my behind to the small of my back, guiding me firmly inside.
When we enter, He gives me a determined look. I open my eyes wide, trying to tell Him telepathically that I’m not comfortable with this.
He walks past me, leaning in to grumble, “Not a request. Do it now!” Oh, …shit!
I make my way to the bathroom, chatting nervously with His mom as I pass. Once inside, I focus on my task. I force myself not to think or worry, I just slide my panties off, use the toilet, wash my hands and fold up my thong.
When I open the door, He’s standing there, as promised. He steps toward me and grabs the wad of fabric, pulling them to his nose. As he breathes in my most intimate scent, he presses Himself against me.
“Good, good girl. Now, go help my mom.” He chuckles, pushing me out of the doorway. I stand there as He starts to close the door behind me, temporarily unable to think. “Go, now, or I’ll pull you in here and spank you!” He says, smacking my ass.
I’m so wet, I can’t even contemplate sitting down. I walk slowly into the kitchen and ask His mom of I can help with anything.
“Are you alright, you look flushed?!” She says, staring at me in concern.
“Oh, I’m just warm. Can you believe this heat?” I blubber as I fan myself with my hand. She jabbers on about this and that, but all I can focus on is the apex of my thighs, the thought of what she would say if she knew I was standing in front of her without panties, the look on her face of she had any clue what her son would do to me tonight. These are not good thoughts to have during family time.
My Husband sits next to me at dinner, calm and smooth, effortlessly enjoying the conversation. Every few minutes, His hand falls on my thigh, squeezing, kneading, getting closer and closer to that sweet spot that throbs for His touch. I shift my legs apart, pulling my skirt a little higher, to give Him better access, but He doesn’t try. He eventually pushes my knees together, realizing his teasing is taking its toll.
After we clear our plates, our boy is settling in to watch a movie with his Grandpa, and my Sir announces that we are going to go. I offer to help clean up, but am awash with relief when she tells me no.
“You two go enjoy yourselves. You look so nice today, I figured you must have plans tonight!” She smiles at me approvingly. Oh, if you only knew, Mom!
As I slide into the car, He leans in to buckle my seat belt, then slides His hands up the inside of my leg, pulling them apart and slipping His fingers into my slit. I gasp and He growls, “Mmmm, you’re so wet you naughty girl.” He quickly stands and closes the door.
After He pulls out of the driveway, He glances over at me. “Recline your seat about halfway,” he commands, and I instantly comply. “Unbutton your blouse…two buttons.”
I pull apart the two buttons covering my bra and open my shirt so that He can see the pretty, lacy, red fabric barely covering my nipples. I don’t even consider who else might be able to see as we drive through a fairly populated area.
I watch His reaction when he glimpses my erect nipples, peaking through the fabric. I notice His breathing change, which makes me even more excited. I slide a finger under the fabric but His hands stops me and He slips His own fingers inside the cup, pulling it under my breast. He runs His fingers over my nipple and then repeats the circuit on the other side.
I’m panting and moaning softly as He focuses His attention back on the road. “Pull up your skirt, I want to see that wet pussy,” he grunts. I look out the windows, nervous about who may be watching. We’re getting on the highway when he growls, “Now….”
I shift my skirt up around my hips, exposing my smooth, juicy lips beneath. His hand slides in between my legs and over my slit. “Mmmmm…”
I’m moaning, desperate for more. Desperate for His fingers on me, inside me. Desperate to feel more of Him.
I spread my legs apart further, his fingers rub my swollen clit causing low, lusty sounds to rise from my throat. “Oh, Sweet Wife, I do love the sounds you make,” He breathes.
I whimper as He pulls His hands away. “I want you to touch yourself. Like you would if you were alone.” I look over at Him, surprised. He normally doesn’t like me to masturbate. But I see insistence on His eyes.
I slide my fingers over my dripping pussy, slipping my first two fingers to either side of my clit. I find my rhythm and look over to watch my Sir as I ride the waves of pleasure I’m giving myself.
I see a truck next to us with, a pretty young woman in the passenger seat is staring at me through my Sirs window. I don’t care and just keep moving my fingers, bringing my other hand to my nipple as I focus on my Sir’s face. I feel the eyes of both people in the truck next to us but don’t care.
“You enjoy being watching, you naughty little slut?” He growls, shifting His growing erection with His left hand and smiling over at me. I giggle, closing my eyes and feeling my cheeks flush, but then moan again as His right hand finds and tugs on my hard nipple.
I open my eyes again to look out the window and see the driver of the RAM truck staring at me. The woman has her hand over her mouth and I smile at her, giggling again. My Sir never looks, splitting His time between watching me and the road.
“Sir, do you think this might be dangerous?” I whisper breathlessly, slowing my assault on my clit.
“Are they watching you? Do you think they are turned on?” His voice is raspy and low, and I wish for a moment that He would pull over and fuck me like a whore on the hood of His car.
I look out His window again but don’t see the woman. The man is watching me intently, and then I realize the woman’s head is in His lap. I giggle and close my eyes, ramping up the speed again.
“I think, Sir, that I just managed to get that fellow a road job!” I say, half giggling, half moaning, feeling the waves rising as I concentrate on that little button that brings me to the edge of the world.
I start to moan louder when I hear, “Don’t Come. That’s mine.” I stop completely, knowing I’m about to tip off that edge and fly.
“Spank it.” He growls in a very low voice. I look at Him and swat my pussy softly, whimpering. He’s turning off the highway, we’re almost home. “Again, harder, five times.”
I spank my lips hard, four times and when the fifth blow lands strongly on my clit, I cry out as my nerve endings fire and throb. “Please Sir, …please.” I beg, needing more or release or something I cannot articulate.
Just then, I notice that He’s unbuckled His seat belt and we are parked in the garage. “What are begging for, naughty girl? What is that you want?” He rumbles, moving closer to me.
“I… Sir… More, Sir, Please?” I stammer, squeezing my legs together to try to get some friction.
“You want to spank yourself some more?” He says, amused.
“Uh… No, Sir.. You, Please!” I whine, clenching my fists to keep myself from pulling His hand to my crotch.
“Hmmm…” He slides His right hand up my leg to my thigh and then back down again, teasing me, and sending chills down my body. “Oh, Please, Sir….” I beg again, writhing in the seat, willing Him to touch me where it matters. To grab it, hit it, knead it, or whatever He wants to do to it. It is His.
He continues to touch me, everywhere except my pussy. I’m whining and whimpering with each stroke, when finally His left hand finds a nipple and I gasp. He pinches it and lowers His mouth to the other while His right hand makes its way to my neck. He holds me still as a moan and arch against His tongue. He bites me, and I cry out and then moan again as He sucks and pinches and pulls. His actions seem to send lightening down to my crotch and I’m squeezing my muscles and thighs and start rocking my hips, finally finding a tiny bit of friction on my clit.
He continues tormenting my breasts, murmuring how much He loves them and how wonderful the noises I’m making sound. If He keeps going, I’m going to explode. “Sir, …I need…” The waves are building and pulsing. I clench in an attempt to stop them, He sees that I’m not letting go and slows to a stop, but keeps His hand on my throat. He told me not to come. I will not come.
“You’re a sweaty mess again, you dirty little girl.” He breathes against my lips, teasing me in the worst way, withholding His kiss. “Collect yourself, then get in the house and get us a drink.” He demands, pulling away and adjusting Himself.
His dick is fully erect and must be uncomfortable trapped inside His tight jeans. I stare and feel His eyes on me. “You’re not collecting yourself, and as much as I love seeing you sitting there, exposed, frustrated and wanting to free my cock, it’s much too hot to keep going out here.” He puts a finger under my chin to guide me to look at His face.
“Move now, or your ass will regret it!” He growls, making my clit jump.
Sometimes, you don’t even know that you are in need of The Punishment.
I sit on my feet, trying my best to keep my legs open and back straight. My feet are asleep, my back and abdominal muscles are strained, and nothing would feel better than letting go and falling forward onto my chest, relieving the pressure, relaxing my aching mid-section. I concentrate on my breathing, focusing on my task and my desire to obey. My need to be controlled. My love of this new and exciting side of my Husband. My Dominant. My Master.
I’m not sure where my Sir is, but I believe He is watching me. I cannot see the clock, but would estimate I’ve been kneeling with my hands clasping my forearms at my back for at least 30 min. I’ve been practising kneeling, and feel the familiar pull and twitch in my thighs, the pins & needles now travelling up my calves. I know if I raise my hips up to relieve the pressure on my feet, my thigh muscles will give out more quickly, so I endure.
I let out a deep breath and draw in another, willing Him to tell me to stand, wanting to beg, and almost convincing myself the punishment would be worth letting go. I don’t mind the pain, but the disappointment is too much for me.
“Do you know how long it has been, Sweet Wife?” His voice is low and not far, probably right behind me.
“No, Sir.” I squeak, silently pleading for relief.
“How about a guess? Just one…” I hear the smile in His voice, but it confuses me.
“Maybe 30 min., Sir?” I whisper, my legs are starting to tremble, I know I won’t last much longer.
“Oh, no, my good, sweet girl. You have been kneeling for exactly twice that!” His voice is filled with pride.
…What?? An hour, I’ve never lasted more than 30 min. in practice! My mind is hazy, and I wonder if I heard Him correctly.
He walks around me and reaches down to pull my chin up to look at Him. “That’s right, one hour…” His voice is heady and I can see that His pride has had a physical effect on Him as well. “You may release forward and stretch, but do not stand.”
I follow His command, laying my chest on the floor in front of me and stretching my arms out forward. I stay like this for several moments before starting to wonder what He has planned.
“Now, push yourself forward and stretch out your back and legs.” He sounds so husky, I start to get wet just imagining His need.
After I obey, pushing my chest up into the Cobra pose, He grabs my hair at the nape of my neck and tugs my head back further. “I had planned to keep you kneeling until you couldn’t, but your desire to please me has overrun my patience, sweet girl.” As He lets go of my hair, He trails His fingers down my cheek and under my chin again. “How much longer would you have lasted, I wonder?”
I know His question is rhetorical, so I do not answer, but allow Him to guide me up to stand. After I do, He raises my hands above me head and kicks my feet apart lightly. I stumble slightly, and apologize before He asks me what is wrong.
“My feet are asleep, Sir.” I whisper, panting already at His closeness. I can feel his breath on my bare shoulder.
“Hmmm,” He hums deep in His throat, sliding his hands down my arms over my shoulders then down my back and bottom. He pushes me forward several steps until my hips hit the side of our bed, then He folds me down to lay my chest on the mattress. He guides my head to one side and brushes the hair from my face, before pulling back up and rocking his pelvis into my ass, just enough so that I can feel his erection.
His hands slide over my backside and down my thighs, massaging lightly and then a little more deeply as he pulls both hands to my right leg. He rubs His way down to my ankle, leaving my skin hot behind His touch, then lifts my foot and kneads the pad with his thumbs, whisking the pins and needles away. Slowly, He drops to His knees, and continues the foot massage until suddenly, I feel his tongue swirl around my big toe.
Oh boy. The sensation is incredible and seems to travel right up my leg into my clitoris. He bites down lightly on the side, and I tremble with the pleasure of it. He continues this pattern across all of my toes and then down my foot to my instep. I can feel my heart hammering in my chest, and with each nibble, my pussy twitches and I get wetter. My breathing is heavy and I can’t seem to focus on anything other than the pleasure spiraling up from my foot into my sex. It’s incredible. And with another nibble, I moan.
“Shhhh,” He admonishes me while setting that foot down. A whimper escapes my throat, but I don’t quite realize the sound came from me until I feel His hand swat my backside. As I quite myself, He picks up the other foot and subjects it to the exact same treatment. When his tongues gets down to my instep, I try to stifle a moan, but don’t succeed. I receive 3 blows to the same spot on my right buttock, and the last one stings, but I force myself to remain quiet. For now, anyway.
He releases my left foot, and when I don’t make a sound, He whispers, “Good girl,” and rubs the spot He spanked lightly, taking away the sting. He helps me to stand again, and once I do, my arousal become very evident as my juices drip down the inside of my thigh. “Mmmm, obviously, that was quite nice for you. I think that now, it’s your turn to do something nice with your mouth…”
He unzips His pants and lets them fall to the floor. His erection is poking out of His boxers, and the sight is enough to make my mouth water. I get down on my aching knees quickly and look up at His handsome face, “May I use my hands, Sir?” I ask before licking my lips.
“No,” He growls. “Put them on your nipples. Pinch them hard, and don’t let go of them.” He demands while sliding His shorts down, freeing His rock hard cock.
I obey, and He grins as I wince, proud again that I follow His commands so well. I lean forward and lick the tip of His penis, lightly at first, like I’m licking a lollipop. Then I glide my tongue up and down each side, then the bottom, as it bobs in the air. I take Him into my mouth, a little at a time, swirling my tongue around before sucking and then pulling back. Each time, a little deeper until His hands slip into my hair, pulling it back into a handle so that He can fuck my waiting throat.
I groan as His first thrust rams into the back of my teeth and He sucks in a sharp breath. I relax my mouth and throat, and swallow as His next few thrusts hit my tonsils. I moan again for several more strokes and hear Him say softly, “I love to fuck your pretty mouth, Sweet Wife. I love the sound you make when I do.”
I moan again at His words and he relinquishes the blow job back to me. My nipples are throbbing, so I moan some more on His dick, pushing my lips down over His shaft and sucking as I pull back. I go slowly, because I don’t think He wants to come yet. But then, as I’m picking up the pace, His hand grips around my throat. I realize I have let go of my nipples, so I pinch them again hard, which makes me moan again but He pulls Himself free. He pulls me to stand by my neck and growls in my ear, “You let go.”
Before I can say anything, He sits on the mattress and lays me over His lap. He pulls my hands behind my back and holds them with one hand and locks His legs together with mine between them so that I cannot move. He runs His other hand other my bottom several times before starting with a few light smacks. I feel His dick twitching under my belly.
“Don’t make a sound, sweet wife, or it won’t be nice.” He grumbles, and I lock my mouth closed. Knowing He doesn’t really intend this to be a punishment spanking makes me wetter and I catch myself hoping for a front spanking, too.
The blows start landing in rhythm between strokes and get closer and closer to the middle until finally 10 quick hard smacks land on my sex. He strokes the spot up and down, “Oh, sweet wife, you are really wet.” Ten more blows, and this time, as he rubs, His middle finger slides inside and He rotates it around, testing. “Very, very wet. Like you enjoy being spanked. Hmmmm…” He breathes, pulling His finger out and giving my pussy 5 more stinging strikes before jamming His finger back in and fucking my cunt with it.
“Don’t come, sweet girl, don’t come!” He growls, feeling my body clenching around his finger, but I can’t stop it. I bear down into it, willing the waves to settle, but He keeps pounding in and then adds another finger, and His thumb is hitting my asshole and it’s just too much. I burst, riding the waves out and back in several times as He slows His grueling attack.
“Oh, wife. You keep disobeying me!” He can’t stop Himself from chuckling, “I guess you need more punishment…”
He lifts me off of Him, and moves me onto the bed on my back. He positions my hands above my head, as He often does, and enjoys the view as He skims his own hands over my breasts, tweaking my already sore nipples, causing me to suck in and breath, “Please, sir…”
“Oh… Now you beg!!” He laughs again, “Where was the begging a minute ago, naughty girl?” He shakes His head and stands. He stares down at me on the mattress, one finger tapping His lips. Thinking. Watching. Teasing.
I’m still trembling a bit, wondering what he’s thinking, wondering what he’s going to do to me… I realize, I don’t care. He could do anything in the world to me right now. I am riding the best kind of high there is. The love high. Feeling my heart swell, I notice Him staring and think He must be feeling the same thing. His eyes filled with adoration, contemplating the many, many ways He could derive pleasure from inflicting pleasure. He smiles at me, and my heart quickens. It’s almost as if our hearts are sharing some sort of secret dialogue. Secret from even ourselves, I grin back at Him.
He turns and walks away from me, growling, “Don’t move a muscle, sweet wife,” before disappearing into His closet. When He emerges a few moments later, He’s finish undressing and I find myself hoping that this isn’t going to be over too quickly, but then I see something in His hand. I’m not sure what it is until he smacks it against His other hand. “It’s time for another spanking,” He breathes as He gets close enough for me to see. It’s a paint stick!
He lays it on the bed and stretches my legs apart, pulling a scarf out from under the bed that He must have tied to the frame earlier. He wraps it around my ankle and ties it tight, then moves to the other side to do the same. He planned for punishment… As He walks up the side of the bed to tie my hands, He swats my dripping wet pussy and pinches my right nipple, causing a whimper to escape my throat. I’m so excited, I don’t care how nice or not nice it is, I really want a spanking.
My hips are moving of their own accord and I close my eyes trying to focus and settle myself. The anticipation is sweet torture. Finally I feel His hands on me, twisting my nipples again, and I cry out from the unexpected pleasure pain. I start twisting my hands together, trying to focus on something else, then I feel his hand slide down and swat my engorged clit. My body quakes, and I think if He even blew on my pussy right now, I might fly up to the ceiling in climax, but I know if I hold back and let it build, I may just fly up to the sun! I concentrate on my breathing and keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see what is going to happen next.
Another swat and then a rub. “How long do you think you can last, wife? How many smacks with this stick before you can’t take anymore?” He asks, sweetly, sliding his hands up and down my thighs, now.
“Oh, please, Sir… I don’t know…” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, I don’t want to think. I take a breath and whimper, “As many as Sir would like to give.”
Good answer, …I hope.
“Good girl. I’m so proud of you,” He whispers, rubbing my clit again as reward. I moan at the lovely little touch and then whine when He pulls away.
He ignores my complaint and picks up the stick, smacking His hand with it again. “How about 100, then?” When my eyes spring open wide and I suck in my breath, He chuckles, “Oh, wife, you are animated tonight! No, no, let’s start with 10 and see how you do. Since we’ve never used this tool before, we need to test it!”
He reaches down and rubs my clit again. Satisfied that it is still engorged and ready for punishment, He lays the stick firmly on pussy, but it’s not very hard, just enough to let me know it’s starting. The next four are still fairly light, but with immediate succession and I moan after the fifth hit. Anytime we are testing something new, Sir asks that I give Him regular safewords so that He knows I’m paying attention to how much pain I can handle. “Play, Sir, play…” I breath before He has to ask. Play means I’m fine and want to keep going.
The next two blows are much harder and sting, but I want more, “Play…” After the last three, he puts his whole hand on my pussy, rubbing and kneading.
“You should see the color of your lips right now, sweet wife. I’m betting you don’t even have lipstick this dark…” His voice is so raspy, I can hear His arousal. “That was 10…”
“Play, Sir, play.” I squeak, not even letting Him finish. The singing sensation in my clit after those last few smacks is gone and I want it back.
“Well, then, 10 more!” He rumbles, pulling His hand back and laying 6 swats down hard and then 3 a little lighter, but directly on my clit. I cry out, so He stops and rubs, and before I can think, I’m begging, “Please, sir, please…. Please!”
He slows His hand and growls at me, “What are you begging for, naughty girl? You want to come?” I don’t answer. “You want more punishment?”
“Ah,…. Sir, Play…. Please!” I breath, not really believing my mouth just asked for more smacks. He lays the 20th blow hard right against my clit, and my skin is singing but it’s still not enough. I want more.
“Please… Play, Sir, I’m fine, play!” I bark, trying to choose my words as to not command Him to continue, but sounding very demanding in my own ears.
“Oh, wife, You aren’t trying to get me to break you, Are you??” He questions, rubbing the stick on my throbbing clit. My hips writhe with His rhythm.
Am I? Is that what I want? Him to break me? After calming myself a bit and thinking hard, I focus on my body. No, it doesn’t hurt that much, I just want more.
“No Sir. I really am fine… Please?” I beg him, looking into His eyes so that He can see that I’m fine. He looks steadily at me, continuing to rub me and somehow now has two fingers inside of me. I see the worry melt from His features and a new look replace it. HE admits to Himself that He wants to keep going, too!
“It’s no more or twenty more, choose.” He growls, and stops touching me completely. He focuses on my face, wanting to interpret my reaction. He knows, after seeing His desire to continue, I might say OK to please Him. But I don’t give pause, I answer very simply, “Twenty,” and throw my head back prepping my mind for the onslaught of pleasure pain it is about to endure.
I hear Him release His breath as if He’d been holding it, “Such a good girl…” I hear Him whisper, with a smile just barely audible in His voice. He rubs my clit again for a moment, revving Himself up. Or revving me up.
I’m already floating when the fifth blow lands, rising further with each strike, not quite feeling the true impact, but the pressure and then the sting for just a moment before the next smack follows. Before I know it, my clit is singing and throbbing and both of His hands are going nuts on me. Three fingers pounding into my G-spot and his other hand, a completely frenzy on my clit. I feel like I’ve already come and that another orgasm is building against His fingers.
“Yes…” I breathe out as the waves build up and I teeter over the edge. My hips are moving of their own accord, thrusting against Him, about to burst. “Come again, wife, come on.” He grumbles and His words shatter me into a hundred pieces while His fingers put me back together only to shatter again, gushing all over Him.
My body is wracked with tremors, as He pulls away and then lays on top of me, thrusting His super hard cock deep into my cunt. He lowers His face to fine and forces His tongue in my mouth and pinches my nipples. It’s too much and I feel myself ride another wave up and over the edge. I whisper into His mouth that I’m coming and He moans and hisses, “Yes….” He pounds into me harder and harder, I can feel Him hitting my cervix and He lifts me up again saying, “Come for me, let me hear you come, sweet wife!”
I do, moaning incoherently, but this time I don’t come back down, I just keep spiraling over the edge, my body bucking and quaking at each thrust. Just when I think I’m finally settling back down, he growls, “One more time, naughty slut, come again…”
Oh fuck! I push my pussy up against Him, my clit so swollen and sensitive from it’s paddling that just a few more strokes and I’m off again, bursting, out of control and gushing around Him.
“Yes….” He breathes again, “My turn.” He grinds into me hard a deep and I feel His muscles quiver before He groans and fills me with His come.
He collapses on top of my spent body that is still wracked with after shocks and waves. I rub against Him just a little more and have one more lovely orgasm, whispering, “Oh Fuck!” while my body spasms and vibrates under Him. He chuckles.
“If I weren’t so spent, I’d give you a few more, sweet wife.” He mumbles into my neck, and kisses me just below my ear. As if given permission, I lift my hips again, pushing my still engorged little button against his dick and writhe for a few moments while He continues kissing my neck and ear until the waves carry me back up and over the edge yet again. This time, crying His name softly into His hair.
As my body settles and my muscles recover, he laughs again, watching me ride the after shocks, rubbing against Him a little, every few moments. “Oh, Thank you, sir…” I say, breathlessly.
“Such a good girl, you deserved it!” He smiles down at me and kisses my nose. “I can’t believe you took 40 swats with that thing!” His face, beaming.
“I can’t believe you gave me 40 swats with that thing!” I say very quietly, shyly. “I didn’t know if you would let yourself for a moment there…. Sir.” I add, letting Him know, even though He is still in control (He ALWAYS is), that I, too, am proud.
“I liked it.” He grumbles, avoiding my eyes. I knew He wanted to say more, I could see the chagrined expression on His face. He felt bad that He liked it. He felt guilty that He enjoyed hurting me.
“Please, Sir. Don’t do that.” I whispered, wishing my hands were untied so I could touch His lovely face. “Don’t feel guilty, Sir. Your pleasure was due to my pleasure, not my pain. I know that, and you should too!”
I smirk up at Him, hoping to get through. His eyes find mine and He stares into them for a long time, before finally sinking His mouth to mine and kissing me softly and then deeply.
“I love you, my sweet, sweet wife. For everything you give, and especially for everything you take! You make me so proud…”
Oh, Sir. You have NO idea how much I would take for You….
pushing our limits 