submissive – pushing our limits

The Drive

May 4, 2014May 5, 2014 Mel Douleur

It’s late and we are only halfway through our drive. I’ve done my best to stay awake, but find my eyes simply won’t stay open.

I feel you look over at me before your hand slips lightly onto my bare knee. The hot humid air from outside is just barely made tolerable by the A/C and I’m grateful you told me to wear the shorter dress, even though I’m certain it wasn’t only for my comfort.

“I’m drowsy too, little girl. Stay awake and tell me a story.”

I force my eyes open and see the sleepiness in your eyes. But something else. That spark that makes me squeeze my thighs together and sigh. That expression that I simply cannot refuse.

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, straightening myself in my seat before turning toward you. I lay my temple against the headrest and watch you, thinking about the story I might tell.

I know the kind of story you want, and my mind spins with ideas, but when your sad eyes capture mine, your gaze is like an antenna. Your story rolls off my tongue as though it had been waiting for release.

A heady mix of lust and passion with a hint of suspense and a dash of mystique bubbles up from that place deep inside me that you seem to access so easily.

I’m excited by the words I’ve woven for you. Your raspy sighs hint at your own arousal as well, and soon, your fingers skim upward from my knee, slipping beneath the hem of my cotton dress. My legs part, in their own submission to you, and I wonder if my body will ever listen to me in your presence.

As you reach the sheer fabric between my thighs, the low rumble from your throat signals your awareness of my wetness.

“Take them off, little girl. Let me see what’s mine.”

My whole body responds to your voice. Your words. Your ownership. I slowly raise my skirt over my hips and watch you suck in a breath at the sight of my sweet, lace edged panties with the satin bow in front. I slip my thumbs beneath the strings on either side and lift my bottom so that I can slide them down my now quivering thighs.

I start to leave them around my knees, but you whisper for me to give them to you, eliciting another surge of arousal from deep within me.

I tug them down, pulling my bare feet through them and fold them before placing them in your waiting hand, blushing furiously. Lifting them to your nose and inhaling deeply, the heat in my cheeks increases and I drop my chin to hide my embarrassment.

After stuffing them into your pocket, you lift my chin and growl, “So sweet, baby doll. …Now show me.”

Again, my thighs part and I lift my hem. The interior lights in the car are barely enough to see by, but my skin is clearly damp. I watch you intently. Will you tell me to touch myself? Will you reach for me? Will you simply force me to remain like this, exposed, for the rest of the trip?

You look up at my face which must give away my thoughts, because you chuckle softly and pat my knee, turning to watch the road. I let out a soft sigh and grip the edge of my dress in frustration. I try closing my eyes to quell my thoughts of taking matters into my own hands.

I may enjoy discipline, sometimes, but I don’t relish willfully disobeying you.

When I feel the car slow and turn off the highway, I lift my eyelids to look at you, but not out the window. Are you too tired to continue? Too aroused? Are you stopping for a hotel? You grin at me and nod your head toward the windshield as we stop completely.

We are looking out over a small city, on the edge of a large hill. It’s a beautiful sight, the twinkling lights off the town below us, against the starlit evening sky. The clearing is small, but we aren’t far from the highway. I look back into your eyes, “Where are we, Sir?”

You do not answer. Instead, rolling down the windows and switching off the ignition before unlatching your seatbelt and turning toward me with clear motive written all over your face. Your fingers unlatch my own belt, sliding over my belly and leaning in closely so that I can feel your warm breath on my face.

I start to pant, your proximity turning me into a bubble of desire just waiting to be popped. The night breeze blows through the car and across my naked flesh making me open myself wider.

“My little slut…” You whisper before teasing my mouth with your own while your fingers slide up and down my wet slit. I moan and arch, still gripping my hem. Your beard tickles my chin and I sigh deeply as your lips glide over my jaw.

My ass is practically off the seat as my body invites you in, to explore, to invade, but your fingers still torment, barely skimming my slick folds. “Please, Sir… More?” I whimper.

“What do you want, little girl?” Your voice in my ear sends tremors through me, before you gently nibble down my neck, the fingers of your right hand tugging down the strap of my sundress.

“Oh, please, Daddy. I don’t know…”
“That’s right, sweet girl. But, I do.”

Your teeth sink into my shoulder just as you slide two fingers inside me. “No orgasms without permission,” you growl as my muscles clench around you. How do you know? How is it you understand my body better than I do?

As you grip my pussy, with two fingers inside and your palm grinding against my clit, your mouth seems to be everywhere but where I want it. On mine. I let go of my skirt and lift my hands to your cheeks, but you pull back and give me that look. The one that makes me say, “Yes, Sir,” even when you’ve given no command.

“Tilt your seat back, then sit on those impatient fingers of yours, baby girl.”

As I obey, you pull down the front of my dress, the ruched top giving you plenty of access. I’m already moaning when your lips find my nipple, digging my fingernails into the backs of my thighs to keep my hands from wandering again.

Just when I’m sure I can’t take anymore, your lips make their way back to mine and you grip the back of my neck tightly, kissing me hard and thrusting your tongue against mine.

I feel myself teetering on the edge of orgasm when your fingers wriggle inside me and your thumb presses against my clit before circling, slowly. “Oh, God…,” I groan into your mouth and you pull back watching me.

I stare into your eyes, trying to decide if I should beg or let go, and suffer the repercussions. You smirk at me and pull your hand away. I whine and lift my ass in the air again, trying to will your return.

You kiss me again, then lean back, licking my juices off your fingers. Settling back into your seat, you unzip your jeans and pull out your delicious cock. “You cum, when I cum,” you whisper, stroking yourself lightly.

I climb onto my knees, licking my lips, not caring if I climax at all, anymore. I only want to taste you. Forever, your cum slut.

I start to bend toward your lap, but you stop me, wrapping your fingers around my throat and pulling me to your lips one more time.

After a kiss that takes my breath away, you hold me there looking behind me. “You’re being watched, pretty girl.”

As you let go, I look behind me and see a couple of young men staring at us from the tree line. They are holding beer cans, and appear to be accustomed to it, but look too young to be drinking. Clearly, this is a teenage party spot, and I look back to you for instruction.

My cheeks are blazing, as I already know what you are going to say, “How about a performance, little girl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper. I’m not sure what you have in mind, but the humiliation I feel only serves to increase my arousal. I want you to show me off, even if it is in the most embarrassing way a girl could ever imagine.

“Good girl,” you breathe, and my body convulses with those words.

You step out of the car, walking around it slowly before opening my door and pulling me out with you. The clearing is grassy, which is a relief to my feet, and very quickly to my knees, as you push me down in front of you.

You don’t acknowledge the boys at all, who are now wide eyed with mouths agape. I look up at you, while sitting on my feet, and grin, my cheeks still burning. My breasts are still exposed, as is your cock, and I’m sure neither of those young men have seen much of either.

“May I suck your cock, please, Sir?”

I smile at your grin and nod, but want you to speak. I want them to hear your Dominance.

“May I use my hands, Sir?”

“On yourself, sweet girl. While I fuck your pretty mouth.”

I lift my skirt, so they can see me slide my fingers over my bare pussy and one of them drops his beer. I slide my middle finger deep inside and moan before opening my mouth and leaning forward to press my tongue against you.

I look up at you again, sucking and swirling your head before sliding onto you and pulling back slowly as a hiss escapes your lips. I open my thighs further and moan as I deliberately release your cock from my lips and glide my tongue down your length to the side of your sac.

“Yes, baby, lick my balls,” you groan, lifting your cock up your belly and stroking it while I lathe your underside and suck each side into my mouth, lightly swirling my tongue around them.

“Fuck,” I hear one of the boys mutter as he rubs himself over his shorts. When I glance over at them, they both look aroused, but there is something different about the boy in jeans.

Gazing back up at you, I rub myself lightly and open my mouth wide as you grab the sides of my head and push yourself into my mouth. Slowly at first, but I see that you are about to do exactly what you said, and pull my hands up to your thighs.

“Pinch those titties, little girl, like I would.” As you slowly push yourself deep into my throat, I cup my heavy breasts and squeeze my nipples tightly, groaning against your shaft.

After a few long strokes, you slam into my tonsils and hold me there. I swallow, trying not to gag or gasp, and you grunt at the sensation, before pulling back and fully fucking my mouth.

When you stop, I look up at you, expectantly, all but forgetting our audience. I want your cum, and feel disappointment fall over my face until you growl, “Up on the hood, I need to fuck you.”

Oh, yes! I’ve been aching to be filled by you all day. When I don’t stand fast enough for you, you grab my arm and yank me up, against you, and I rise to my tippy toes, hoping you’ll kiss me. Show those young men that tasting yourself on your girls lips is wonderful.

You do, and lift my dress to squeeze my bare ass cheeks. Your kiss is intoxicating. I wrap my arms around your neck and you lift my bottom, so I wrap my legs around you too. You slide your beard across my neck and whisper in my ear, “Being wrapped in you is the best part of this performance, baby doll… So far.”

I smile against your cheek, and sigh with pure bliss. When you set me on the hood, you unwrap yourself and step back. I feel so exposed, my face heats up again and I start to close my legs.

“Uh-uhhh, sweet girl. Open up,” you rumble, and when I do, you slap my pussy three times. I lean back thrusting myself forward, and you growl, low and deep, “You wanna show these boys what a pain slut you are, my bitch?”

I nod at you, panting and within moments, you have my arms folded behind me, pull my dress up over my head holding them in place, and are pushing me back to lie on them. You pull my hips toward you and lift my feet to the edge of the car, so that my pussy is spread, wide open, for anyone watching.

I look back at the boys, and the one in jeans has his dick in his hand, but is just holding it, staring at us intently. The other one is vigorously working his own erection, inside his shorts, and is sweating profusely.

The first couple swats land lightly and quickly on my lips, and I feel my arousal splatter on my thighs. “You are so wet, dirty girl. Just from sucking my cock!” You rub my clit for a moment and I start to writhe. “Such a little slut, you want more?”

“Yes, Daddy, please?!”

The boy with his hand inside his pants has pulled himself free, and is grunting hard. “Hit her again,” he says softly, and you smile broadly, still not acknowledging them fully, but you pull back and smack my clit hard, making me cry out, then moan loudly as you rub me, wildly. I could cum, and think I might, but will myself to hold it in.

“More?” I know you’re asking them, so I look at them and nod my head.

The kid in the jeans is still just staring, but the other shouts, “Yeah, fuck yeah. Then fuck her hard.”

You spank my pussy until my thighs threaten to close then you thrust your cock inside me. I almost can’t pay attention to the boys, anymore. My body is losing the battle to prevent climax. I look at the boy in the jeans, hoping to distract myself, and he sees me staring.

Are you ok? He mouths, and I gasp, “Yes! Please let me cum, Daddy, please?!?!”

You don’t answer, so I look back at you, you are shaking your head no, but whisper, “Cum, baby girl. Make it look good.”

My body convulses with pleasure that I’m sure these young men could not understand. I cry out and let my voice do what it will as wave after wave hits me and shoots through me. When they turn to after shocks, I look up at you and try to fill my face with apologetic concern. You’ve stopped and are watching me.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. I couldn’t stop it!”

“You are a bad little girl,” you smile, pulling out of me, “turn over.”

I do the best I can, with my arms bound behind me, you have to help me. You pull my legs down so that my toes touch the grass, and slide your fingers across my ass.

With my cheek pressed against the hood, I look back and see the concern in the one boy’s eyes, so I say, in my sweetest voice, “Spank me, Daddy. I deserve it, I want it.”

You chuckle, and I’m sure they hear it, and can tell it is an act now. As I stare at the boys, you begin, striking me hard enough to make me flinch, but not cry out. The boy in the shorts shoots his load, and I get a strange sense of satisfaction from that.

The boy in the jeans just glares at me, hard cock in hand.

Your fingers dip between my thighs, and the pleasure closes my eyes. I want your cock inside me, and I want that boy to see that. So I beg.

As you continue punishing my ass and teasing my dripping cunt, I beg and plead for your cock and your cum. When you finally slide into me, I think I might explode, but hold it together until your thumb pushes into my ass. I come apart, my juices dripping down my thighs, and the car, and I feel your hand come down on my ass again.

I think I hear one of the boys speak. I open my eyes to see the boy who blew his wad stroking himself again. Hard again so quickly, oh, sweet youth.

The boy in the jeans is stroking himself, now. And I watch him intently while you drive deep and hard into me. You lean down over me and whisper, “You like being watched, don’t you, little one?”

Before I can answer, you pull me up by my hair, sliding out of me and spinning us, so I’m facing the boys. Completely exposed, you wrap your hand around my throat and lift me so your cock presses between my cheeks. I feel you bend your knees while gripping my hip and pushing into my ass. Filling me painfully, but blissfully.

“Cum again, for them, sweet girl.”

I’m panting with some crazy blend of discomfort and pleasure. You pull my dress off my arms, lift my left hand around the back of your neck and then glide my right hand between my thighs.

My mind is spinning, my eyes are locked with the boy in the jeans, but I’m frozen.

Until he mouths, Touch yourself.

You whisper in my ear, “Do it,” and I swim in the exotic feelings coursing through me.

I stroke myself in rhythm with my young voyeur, and he quickly catches on. Speeding up and slowing down to see what he can do. I wonder if he will become addicted to the power of this moment, and perhaps that is how a dominant is born.

When your fingers find my nipples, my eyes close, and the young man says calmly, “Open your eyes. Look at me.” Again, I start to turn to you, unsure about accepting orders from another man, but you hold my head firmly and whisper, “Do it,” again.

You begin to move inside me, and the odd sensation makes me bleary eyed, but I blink rapidly to focus on this boy whom I suddenly, and desperately want to cum for. Because you will it.

“Push a finger inside.” I do.

“Two fingers.” I do.

He tells me how to touch myself, to fuck my pussy, to lick my fingers, to pinch my nipples… And as his confidence grows, he steps closer and closer, but never over reaches.

When he’s five feet from us, I feel you tensing and he sees it, taking a step back. He looks at you and whispers, “How do I make her cum?”

I feel you smile against my ear, before you push my fingers away and say softly, but loud enough for him to hear, “If you are in command, and she feels it… If you make her feel safe and protected… If you give her your heart and she gives you her body… And she’s in the right frame of mind, you just tell her to.”

You kiss my neck and press firmly against my clit before growling against my ear, “Cum for Daddy, baby doll!”

It takes no more than that, I’m on fire from watching him and listening to you, and that fire erupts. An orgasm rips through me as you grip my pussy while thrusting yourself in and out of my ass. At the height of my orgasm, you whisper in my ear to beg for his cum.

When I don’t immediately respond, you tighten your grip on my throat, and I open my eyes to see the young man standing only feet in front of us. He’s panting and watching me, but not your fingers continuing to work my pussy or my heaving chest. He’s starting at my face.

“Beg for it, precious,” he grunts as he squeezes the head of his dick, and I suck in a deep breath. He’s a natural.

“Please, Sir. Give me your cum.”

With those words, you pull out of me, whispering, “Good girl,” and push me to my knees.

With both of you in front of me, I close my eyes and stick out my tongue, waiting for the shower. I rub my clit, already on edge just from the thought of all that fluffy, white seed. You know I’m a cum slut, and I bet you planned this, though I’m not sure how.

As the first ropes hit my chest, another climax rocks through me. I feel your cum hit my tongue and then the head of your cock. I open my eyes and look up at you, sucking and licking every drop of your essence. When I pull back, the young Dom is looking down at me with a smile on his lips.

He reaches out and strokes my hair. “Good girl.”

I smile sweetly at him before remembering the other boy and looking around for him. I see him, passed out against a tree, dick still in hand. I giggle and you both chuckle at me.

After attempting to clean me up with napkins and tissues from the car, you help me slip my dress back on, but don’t give me back my panties. I smirk at you and consider asking for them, but decide to let you play your game, hoping it means more fun when we get home. And it’s so hot and sticky, I look forward to the cool, conditioned air in the car blowing up my flirty skirt.

The young Sir starts to walk away, but turns back towards me. “Do all girls like this stuff?”

“More than you’d think. I think you’ll know, you’re a natural Dominant, Sir,” my voice drops, as I suddenly feel embarrassed.

You sit me in the car and buckle my belt for me. “You are amazing, sweet girl. Close your eyes and rest for a minute…” Kissing me and slipping your fingers beneath my dress, you grip me firmly. “This is mine, and mine alone. But what you did for that kid tonight will change the next few years, if not the rest of his life.”

I smile and blush, thinking all I did was everything you said, …and then I understand.

After talking with him for a moment and checking on his friend, who’s starting to wake, you climb in beside me.

As we pull away to continue the drive, you reach for my knee again.

“Don’t fall asleep, little girl. It’s my turn to tell a story…”

D/s, Fiction

Moonlighting, Part Five

April 13, 2014December 31, 2015 Mel Douleur

To catch up on the whole series, click here. This is the final installment. Let me know what you think!

“Chelsea, what I want is to take care of you. I want to give you the life you deserve. I want to help you accomplish everything you have ever wanted to and I want you to help anchor me, make me a better man, and turn my world upside down, over and over again. I want to love you the way you have always deserved to be loved…

“I’d like you to move in with me. If you need some time, or need me to court you, …I’ll give you anything, sweet girl. But my goal will be to own you and have you near me always.” Pulling me into him, he stares into my eyes and whispers against my lips, “Tell me, little girl, how to make you mine.”

My heart feels as though it might stop. I can’t answer because I simply cannot believe this is happening. A subconscious fantasy turned reality… in mere hours?!

While my mind is swirling, I suddenly remember, “I told Rachel I would check back on her!” I bolt upright and glance at the clock. It is nearly 11. I can’t stand going back on my word, and I don’t want her to sleep on the couch. I start to get up, then wonder if I need permission. I look back and forth between him, the clock and the door, unable to form words.

Master begins to chuckle as he sits up as well. Taking me by the shoulders, before wrapping his arms around me, he kisses my hair and says softly, “Stop spinning, little one. Please go get dressed, go check on Rachel and come back.”

Such a simple command, but, with such a huge affect. My mind clears, my pulse slows, and I feel completely quieted, like he just wrapped me in a soothing, warm blanket.

Had I always needed to be given orders? Was that part of my problem with anxiety over the years? Or did he create that need within me?

As he pulls away, I stroke his cheek with my fingers and search his eyes for the answers. What I find is peace. It doesn’t matter, I simply need to surrender.

After a moment, I move to stand and he follows me before grabbing my wrist and pulling me back into his arms. I sigh against his lips as he kisses me, and wonder if he wants to see if I’ll pull away. I wonder if he’s testing me.

I wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss, and allowing my eyes to close. When he releases me, softly and sweetly, he whispers, “Don’t be long, little one. If you are gone more than 30 min., I will have to come collect you.”

He gives me the most delicious grin and I feel my cheeks heat, he was testing me. Exerting his dominance over me in a new way, to see how I’ll react. That smile tells me I passed the test.

He spins me around and swats my naked and wickedly bruised bottom towards the door. I wince but giggle and run to the kitchen to collect my clothes. As I dress, I think about everything that has happened tonight and wonder if I can discuss it with Rachel. I could use a confidant, someone to help me sort through things. Perhaps I shouldn’t discuss Master, though… without permission.

As I slip into my jacket and check my reflection in the dark glass of the upper cabinets in the kitchen, I realize, she is going to ask. It’s late, my cheeks are far more flushed than usual, and, well, Rachel just has an intuition about these things. The conversations we’ve had regarding Master and my questions about submission had always come from her perceptions of my desires.

Running my fingers across my lips and staring into my own face, I simply couldn’t think what I would tell her if she asked what happened.

Suddenly, Master’s arms circle me from behind and his lips find my ear. “Are you stalling for a reason, little girl?”

I look down at his hands and smile at the return of that soothing relief. That feeling of surrendering the decisions to him.

“What should I say, Master, when Rachels asks about my night?”
“You want to discuss it with her? You two have become close, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Sir. I… I want to sort through my feelings with you, but…”
“Go on, sweet Chelsea,” he turns me in his embrace so that we are facing each other.
“I have shared a lot, with Rachel, already, Sir.”
“I have, too,” he whispers, smoothing my hair from my face and smiling.

I smirk at him, realizing this internal struggle is just silly. Surrender. “May I discuss it with her, Master?”

The tender expression that I suddenly recognize washes over his face. Oh, my… It is love. He kisses me softly and whispers, “Yes. Discuss whatever you like with Rachel. Whatever you need to do to answer my question, little one.”

As I make my way into Rachel’s apartment, I feel the goofy grin on my lips, but can do nothing to rid myself of it. She’s lying on the sofa with her eyes closed, so I make my way inside as quietly as possible.

“Ya don’t have to sneak around, I’m not asleep,” she says, actually sounding better than earlier. “Some fantastic lady made me soup that has some kind of magical, healing power to it.” She laughed, before falling into a coughing fit.

“Obviously, it didn’t work THAT well,” I giggle and rush to bring her a glass of water.

She looks at me as I hand it to her, and her lips curl in a devious smirk, “He finally told you!!”

“Told me what?” I try to be coy, but I’m a terrible liar.

She rolls her eyes at me and drags me to sit next to her. “Come on, Roni, spill.”

I freeze, hearing her call me that name. She knows me as Veronica. Marie knew me as Veronica.

Martin knows me as Veronica.

“Hey! You were just smiling and now you look like…” As tears fill my eyes, she can’t finish.

I stare at my hands in my lap and think about pretending to be Veronica all this time. Wondering how little of Chelsea is in her. Martin might think he loves me, but has he really gotten to know me? Even if Veronica is who I’d love to be… It is still just pretending.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Rachel pushes my hair back so she can see my face, before grabbing the tissues off the table.

“Yes. He told me. Martin has asked me to be his. Me alone. But you just reminded me… I’m not sure he even really knows me.” I grab one of the tissues and wipe my eyes. When I turn toward her, the confusion in her face makes me continue.

“My name is really Chelsea. I was married when I started… coming here. Martin thought the fake name would make it easier for me. But I just realized… Rachel, I’ve been pretending to be someone else. How could he know that he wants me when he doesn’t really know me? He turned his life upside down for someone who doesn’t exist!”

I drop my face to my hands, sobbing, “Fuck.”

Rachel remains quiet for a few moments before laughing softly. I look up at her, startled, and she laughs harder.

“Oh, geez, Chelsea. Just think about that for a second, would you?!” She grabs my shoulders, turning me toward her, “For the last few months, because of this ‘pretending’, you’ve been happier than you were for years before. You told me so, two weeks ago. You told me that you wished you could have more than this. You told Marie you wished you could find a guy just like Martin.”

Sighing, exaggeratedly, she grabs a tissue, and wipes my cheeks. “What exactly did you pretend to be that you aren’t? What exactly are the differences between Veronica and Chelsea?!”

Trying to think it through only makes me more upset, because I can’t see the differences. So instead, I clear away Rachel’s dishes and used tissues from the table. Taking everything into the kitchen quietly and filling the kettle to make her more tea, I set out to wash the dishes, but sense her behind me.

“I’m just going to make you more tea and get you into bed. You need to rest, so you can get better, Rachel. You don’t need to help me sort out my love life.”

“Don’t you see, girl? Look at what you are doing right now! Serving me, to make yourself feel better! You ARE Veronica, Chelsea. You went searching for this act. You sought out a place where you could really be yourself. Where you could submit in the only way you felt comfortable with at the time. Now, you want more, but can’t get past the pretending?

“Being upset about Martin falling for the fake you is ridiculous! There is no fake you. It’s just you. The growing and changing Chelsea.”

I look back at her, those words sinking in like none that I ever could’ve offered myself. As I finish the dishes and the kettle whistles, I recognize how “serving” has always been the thing I turned to. When my marriage was failing and I simply could not do enough at home, I sought out this extra place where I could give of myself, because I needed it.

I smile at her and walk over to take the kettle from the stove. “I guess you might be right, Rach. It was never about acting, it was about finding myself.”

Staring at the door, I take the kettle off the heat. Rachel laughs at me again.

“Go!!! I am perfectly capable of getting myself to bed, Ron– Chelsea. Go.”

Stepping out of her apartment, I contemplate telling Martin exactly what happened. I think about what I might want out of this relationship. I wonder at how I can go from submitting once a week to every day, hour, and minute.

When I open the door into the foyer, and remove my jacket, I can’t imagine even wanting to go home, at this point. And when I turn to see him, wearing jeans and his undershirt, his natural body language filled with such… command, I am compelled to kneel at his bare feet. To submit to him.

After a moment, I steal a glance up at his face. His tender smile from earlier makes me blush. He reaches down and strokes my face before offering his hand. I take it, and he pulls me up and against him.

Kissing me hard and letting his hands explore my body, he whispers, “I want to fuck you again, little girl, so bad. But I need to know what you are thinking and feeling.”

I smile at the difference in the man he is with me. He was like this, after my punishments, even if he rarely spoke, but I never truly recognized that this was MY Dom. That the tender firmness was how he made me at ease and how he made me feel good. He is so different from Rachel’s and Marie’s Dom. Different, but the same in so many odd and exhilarating ways.

When he starts to drop his hands, I whine softly, “Please, Sir. Your touch is comforting. I have longed for it, without realizing it, for so long. Please, don’t let go.”

“If you allow me, I’ll never let go, little one.”

I giggle and smirk up at him, cocking my head to one side. Just then, I knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to answer.

“Ask me again, Sir? Please?”

“To be mine? How to make you mine?”

“Tell me to. That is all you need to do, Master. Tell me to be yours, and I will be yours. For as long as you’ll keep me.”

His face split into a smile that could have lit the room. “You want to submit to me, then. That is what you truly want.”

“I want to be yours. I want to serve you. I want to please you. I want to bring you pleasure. I want to give you my pleasure. And I want to, and will, turn your world upside down repeatedly. Because I know, you will always right it, quickly and with command. …I want your command.”

I become breathless, at my own words. The desires of my heart and spirit, so tightly intertwined with the desires of my body. “I really want your command,” I repeat, leaning into him, to feel his heat and his own desire.

He groans and bends his lips to mine but does not kiss me. “There is a lot more to discuss. Arrangements to be made. ideals to understood. Limits to go over… Lives to blend…”

“Tomorrow, Sir… Please? For tonight, just take me… Accept my submission? Please, Master?”

He growls, pulling me hard against him, his eyes searing into me, and his lust scorching my entire body, drawing my own to the surface. “I do love the way you beg, sweet Chelsea.”

Lifting me as though I were nothing, he carries me into the bedroom. As we undress each other, it feels like the first time, all over again. I contemplate how long that feeling could last. But then, as he covers me with his body and enters my sore, swollen and used flesh, I feel a sense of him coming home.

He kisses me, and it feels like completion.

He strokes my body, and it feels like I’ve never been touched in my life.

He says my name, and it sounds like he is naming me, for the first time.

He moves, on top of me, and it feels like magnetism, as though we are always meant to be touching.

And as we slowly climb to the top of our climaxes, I cannot imagination ever experiencing bliss like that again.

Until he wakes me, at sunrise… to take me, again… to heaven.

D/s, Fiction

Dancer

April 10, 2014 Mel Douleur

I finished my latest installment of the Dancer series on Hipster Intelligence Agency.

It is a story about Natalie, an eighteen year old, quite cocky and self confident girl, seeking Dominance without quite realizing it. She throws herself in the path of a handsome, but rumored playboy who quickly helps her see things in herself that she had never realized. And makes her want things she has never wanted.

It’s a pretty hot series, which I enjoyed writing a lot. I hope, if you haven’t already, that you’ll check it out.

Dancer
Dancer, Part 2
Dancer, Part 3
Dancer, Part 4

Let me know what you think!!

D/s, Fiction

Moonlighting, Part four

January 29, 2014December 31, 2015 Mel Douleur

To catch up on the whole series, click here.

As his lips drop to meet mine, I raise my hands to his back, sliding them down and then back up to wind in his soft, chestnut hair. He moans into my mouth and I feel his erection pressing against my thighs.

I open my legs and wrap them around him, inviting him to enter, wanting him to fill me. When the tip glides between my lips, I rock my hips pushing him in slightly. He remains there as his mouth glides over my throat and across my collarbone to my right shoulder.
His teeth skim the sensitive spot, causing my hips to grind against him, pushing him into me further, but not enough. He swirls his tongue on that spot and my hips swivel while I press his backside with my heels. “Please, sir…” I beg, breathlessly.

He lifts up onto his knees, pulling out completely, and I whine, arching my back, my body begging for more.

His lips travel down to my breast wear his tongue flicks at my nipple before he takes it between his teeth, while squeezing the other with his fingers. A deep moan rises from my chest, and I arch further against his mouth. He torments both nipples, going back and forth between them until I am writhing and begging beneath him. He grazes down my belly and pushes my knees apart with his hands, opening me to his hungry mouth.

He blows on my clit, and I feel it pulse as his tongue lowers to tease me. He circles my clit several times, while my hips move of their own accord. I twist my fingers in his hair, trying to push his face into me, to get more friction, more pressure, but he is strong and resists my insistence.

I whimper and twist, my pussy throbbing and dripping, ready and waiting for anything. My muscles clench and vibrate, and I wonder for a moment if I might climax just from this. The thought is pushed immediately out of my mind when his mouth drops to suck and lick my clit, while two fingers find their way inside of me, running back and forth over my G-spot. His tongue laps at me, and it feels so amazing. My thighs threaten to close, but he holds them open with a shoulder and his other hand.

The pleasure is so intense, I remind myself to breath, as I dig my fingers in his hair. My hips lift and grind against his face, and he sucks on my clit again, while pounding his fingers inside my cunt. My moans become quick and low, as I feel the orgasm building, filling me. He lifts his face to look at me and uses his thumb to push and rub, fast and hard on my clit. The change is sensation sends me flying and I scream as I bear down and gush onto his bed.

He slides back on top of me, and glides his raging, hard cock into me, quickly filling me before my orgasm has completed. The fullness pushes me right back to the brink and as he swivels his hips against me, the head of his dick presses against my cervix and I come apart again, this orgasm rocking my entire body until I’m shaking beneath him as he pounds into me.

“Good Girl…” He breathes against my neck and I squeeze my legs around him, slowing him, and wrap my arms around his neck.

“Oh, Martin…” I whimper, and immediately tense, scared that I may have offended him. He senses my reaction and rises so his lips are against mine while he continues to thrust slowly.

“Say it again…”

“Martin.”

“Do you like using my name?”

“Like this, yes….”

“What else would you like to call me?” He asks as he slides a hand beneath my scorched bottom and squeezes.

I suck in a quick breath, the pain quickly sending jolts of pleasure into my clit. “Oh God…” I exhale.

“I like that, but I don’t think you’re calling me God…”

“No… Sir…” His fingers dip between my cheeks and his ring finger presses against my asshole. “Oh, Yes… Sir!”

“Mmmmm, I like Sir. What else?”

My mind is completely blank, my body responding in ways i hadn’t quite imagined. “Master…”

It escaped my throat almost silently as he hovers above my lips. I will myself to say more, but his smooth rocking and attention to my trigger points has left me unable to compose a thought.

“Yes, my precious slut, I’m your Master.” And with that, he rockets me back up into oblivion.

I lose control of my limbs, and he takes the opportunity to flip me, quickly and easily onto my knees. Caressing my bruised and welted backside, he slides into me before dragging my arms behind my back and holding both wrists in one hand.

He presses again, against my puckered, second opening, but this time, with his thumb.

“The sight of your ass like this is almost enough to drive me insane, little one. I’m going to do my best to take you there with me.”

Pushing his digit inside, and digging his fingers into my sore flesh, he begins to hammer into me with such force that it takes my breath.

I’ve never been fucked so hard in my life, and the exquisite pleasure-pain combination is quite enough to lift me beyond euphoria.

Shattering me into a billion pieces, I scream his name over, and over.
“I love the way you say my name… I’ve never loved hearing my name so much…” He bends and growls close to my ear, “No bitch has ever been allowed to use my name like this. But I fucking love it.”

As He rises, his speed increases, and I lose myself in another set up mind altering waves. They don’t stop, they simply seem to rise and crest over and over. His aggression feeding me something I had no clue I was hungry for.

I force my mind to stay in play, to experience his complete satisfaction, and when he pulls himself free of me and flips me onto my back, all I can do is whimper.

He hovers over me, slowly stroking himself, “I never want this to end… You feel like heaven.”

I’m gasping, I want him back inside of me, but instead, I rise up off of my burning backside, to my knees as he sits back on his heels. I mimic his stance and lift my fingers to his cheeks, and whisper “Master, how may I please you?”

His eyes roll back and he pulls his hands to my face and drags me into a melting kiss for breathing into me, “Such a good girl.”

Kissing me again, he guides my fingers around his thick staff, while teasing my engorged button with his own. “I want you to be mine, don’t tell me you will right now, but promise this won’t just be tonight.”

“It won’t,” I sigh, “It won’t.”

My hand strokes him softly as I hold him, tightly, at the base with the other. I recognize that my juices have made him sticky so I whisper my desire to use my mouth.

He gracefully steps off the bed and pulls me to my back, again, dragging my hair over the edge before sweetly stroking my face. I licked my lips, anxious and hungry, but he stepped back and looked at me. “Don’t make me cum, little one, I want to fuck that beautiful pussy again.”

I lifted my hands to guide him into my mouth, but he pulled them to my sides and held them there. I used my tongue, and sucked as he pressed his rod slowly into my throat. He maneuvered himself deep, but slipped back quickly, so I didn’t gag, at first. After shifting my neck to get a better angle, his hands moved down my body, sliding two fingers inside me, and rotating his thumb softly on my clit before pressing down.

Gripping my pussy for leverage, he began fucking my mouth and throat. My entire body went rigid, trying to absorb, relish and encite all at the same time. Suddenly his fingers were free and he began slapping my mound, grunting, and fucking my inexperienced throat. I gasped and gagged and tears filled my eyes. His sack slapping me with each repeated thrust. But before I raised my hands to push him back, he pulled away and climbed on top of me.

Yanking my hips down to meet his, he was inside of me again so quickly that I cried out. This experience would never be matched. This night was almost too much for me to comprehend. As he hovered over me, his pace halted by my shriek, he used his thumb to wipe the tears and dislodged mascara from under my eyes. “Are you Ok, sweet girl? Do you need to stop?”

I swiveled my hips and lifted my hands to his ass, “Please, Sir, don’t ever stop!!” That sweet spot, deep inside, that only he has ever hit, desperately wanted more.

He smiled, dropping his lips to mine but depriving me of his kiss. “You are fucking amazing,” he growled.

As he began to slide in and out, my clenching muscles gripped him so tightly that he groaned. I stared into his eyes, panting. I gripped his ass, moaning. I felt like the world could end in this moment, and neither of us would know it because the joy of pleasure we are experiencing is ethereal.

Our intoxicating fucking has turned into the perfect kind of lovemaking, unaware of where he ends and I begin, the electricity flows between us and through us as one unit. We fly out over the cliff, together, the clouds beating us with their vapor, swell after swell. It is earth shattering. And I apparently lose consciousness.

My mind soaks in the sublime elation of the most incredible climax of my life, as I float back down to earth on a cloud that seems to be massaging me, pleasuring me, kissing me and whispering to me.

When I realize it is Martin’s… Master’s voice I hear, I will my eyes to open. His hand is smoothing coconut oil over by backside, while his chest remains pressed against me tightly. “There you are, little one,” he breathes, pulling me further into his embrace, as though he might absorb me.

I sigh against his neck, reeling from everything that has happened. “Please, can I stay a while, Sir?”

“Of course! You are not permitted to leave right now! …I’d love it if you’d stay the night… or forever.” His voice dropped to a whisper. From commanding to utter vulnerability, I wonder how odd that must feel to him.

As I lift my hand to his scruffy jaw, the concern must be etched in my eyes.

“What is it, sweet Chelsea? What’s wrong?”

“Martin, can you tell me what YOU want, now? Help me understand what this would mean for me? For us?” My voice is shaky and I feel the weight of all the possibilities in the pit of my stomach.

His expression changes. I instantly regret using his name, and recoil slightly in preparation for his response, but he doesn’t speak. He simply looks at me, until there is no expression. His arms tighten again, drawing me back into him.

He remains silent for so long that I pull back to see if he’s fallen asleep. When I see his eyes, and they capture mine, I feel His thoughts. My heart syncs with his. I begin to understand why he would turn his life upside down for little ol’ me, even before he speaks.

But when he does, MY world turns upside down… in a way that could never be imagined.

…to be continued

D/s, Fiction

Mindful

December 3, 2013May 27, 2014 Mel Douleur

I kneel at your feet. Excited.

You’ve ordered me to wait while you work. Patient.

When your eyes finally fall to mine, I’m breathless. Baited.

I raise my face as you stand, staring anxiously. Consumed.

Your fingers slide under my chin and around my neck. Settled.

“Stand,” you order, and when I do, your grip tightens. Unnerved.

You pull my naked body against you, bending knees to meet me. Aroused.

Your lips hover over mine, as I tremble and hope. Shaken.

You gaze into my eyes, holding me still. Fixated.

Lifting your other hand, your fingers trace up my flesh. Beckoned.

You release my neck, those fingers join the adventure. Electrified.

Your kiss, so close yet so far, it’s never proffered. Teased.

“Beg,” your growl coats me in desire. Distressed.

“Please, Sir, please will you kiss me?”
…

Your lips brush against mine as your fingers enjoy their journey. …

Your erection grinds between my legs, and my body responds automatically. …

My fingers rise of their own volition, threading through your hair. …

Your body goes rigid and you step away. Rejected.

You frown at me and shake your head. Dismissed.

I forgot myself, sink back to my knees, and watch you go back to your work. Reminded.

I wait, again. Mindful.

Garbage from my head, Letters, Real Life

Dear mel,

November 14, 2013May 30, 2014 Mel Douleur

So, men are frustrating. Deal with it.

Yes, this week has been full of moments where the men in your life are testing you. One after another, they treat you just not quite as well as you probably deserve.

Your boss is an ass sometimes, what’s new.
Your son is five years old, give him a break.
Your co-worker forgets to do things for you, remind him and get over it.
Your friend has a lot on his plate, he hasn’t forgotten you.

And your husband…

Your husband is your husband. That’s all that matters.

Concentrate on what you do that matters.
Please him.
Serve him.
Submit to him.

The more you do the things that the matter, the more things change.

The less you concentrate on what you believe you need and desire, the more you get out of what he gives.

And when you translate this into the rest of your world, when you use your submissiveness to shape your other relationships by being pleasing and serving in your employment, motherhood, and friendships, while still maintaining the leadership and control needed to perform in these aspects of your life, that is when you find the most success.

Stop making it about you.

Make it about them.

Be kind, calm, sweet, patient, understanding, nurturing, motivational, empathetic, and, above all else, be devoted to to all of it.

Be devoted to submissiveness.

D/s Married, Fiction

Sunrise

September 19, 2013September 19, 2013 Mel Douleur

I wake to the warmth of your hands on my skin. Your breath scalds my neck. And suddenly, you’re sizzling cock is searing into me.

I’m disoriented, and struggle slightly against the heat, but your familiar fire beckons me to be still, to let you in.

I moan as you fill me completely, and when your fingertips blister my nipples, I whimper at their impatient tug and twist. When they creep down my belly and slip into my velvet folds, my breath catches, fire spreading, white hot and alive, within me.

As you circle my awakening button, your teeth sink into my shoulder, sending electricity straight to my center. I grind into you, silently pleading for more. But your other hand burns up my side, from under me, and constricts lightly around my throat, halting me, calming me, soothing me.

My mind stops, the fever consuming me. I am wrapped completely in your flames. Your mouth lays napalm on my neck. Your hands and fingers brand my skin, and I inhale the steam, allowing myself feel the complete reverence of being held by the sun.

Pressing around me from every angle, the waves of our fiery storm wash over me, intense pleasure only beckons my desire for more. My lips open to beg, but your hand closes over my mouth, holding your flames in.

I can no longer tell where I end and you begin. I am yours to devour, and as you slowly rock within me, I feel myself about to crumble and detonate. You sense it too, and envelope me completely. Pumping your embers into me, harder and faster, you breathe against my ear, “Come, sweet wife. Now…”

The body that is no longer my own obeys your scorching command. Clenching around you, I am turned inside out. Sparks and ash pour from my lips while molten ecstasy gushes between my legs.

You singe my flesh, pressing into me furiously, and erupt inside me. We melt into one another like two kinds of liquid metal, mixing to create something new.

As the flames die, and our sweat cools our skin, you kiss me sweetly, turning me in your embrace and capturing me against your chest. “Good Girl,” you whisper, sending shivers down my spine. My joy escapes in a tiny giggle and we are surrounded by light in glorious shades of coral, fuchsia, rose and lilac.

Perfect sunrise, accomplished.

D/s Married, Fiction

Date Night

September 13, 2013 Mel Douleur

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.

D/s Married, Fiction

Playing with her…

September 5, 2013 Mel Douleur

I’ve been thinking about her all day. Missing her kisses, her skin, her legs wrapped around me, her body encasing me. Milking pleasure from me with every clench, stroke and moan. This day felt as though it was never going to end.

On my way home, I decide that I need to hear her voice. Dialing her quickly, as I pull out of the parking lot, she answers almost immediately.

“Hello, Sir.” I exhale a long breath, her voice relaxing me.

“Hello, Sweet Wife. I am hoping you’re in the car on the way home,” I rumble in a low, slow voice.

“I.. I am, Sir. I’m on the highway. The traffic looks to be especially terrible today.” I hear the concern in her pitch, she despises traffic.

“We don’t have to worry about picking up the boy today, so take your time.” I can’t help but mentally curse working in the city, as I too hit traffic.

“I will, Sir. I just want to be home with you. I’ve been looking forward to our date…” Her voice turns silky and sweet, and makes me grin. She loves to flirt. And, I love to play. So let’s begin.

“Where are you? How fast are you moving?”
“Just north of downtown, but stopped. There must be an accident.”
“Is there a car next to you?”
“Yes, Sir. A pick up truck.”
“The driver?”
“Sir?”
“Can you see the driver? Man or woman?”
“Um… Yes, a man. Late 20’s or early 30’s. A landscaper.”
“Hmmm… Are you on hands-free?”
“Oh, Sir… ”
“That was not an answer, Sweet Wife… As punishment, I want you to put your hand in your shirt and play with your nipple.”
“I.. You…” She stammers, reluctant at first, to do anything publicly. But she always has fun.
“Wife!” I growl, making sure she knows I’m in charge.

“…Yes, Sir.” Her whisper tells me the blush has risen high into her cheeks. I can picture her, embarrassed and smirking. Most definitely turned on.

“Is He looking at you?”
“He glanced at me… Yes, he’s looking at me.”
“Open one button on your shirt, lick your finger and do it again.”

I hear her sigh as she complies, always such a good girl.

“Is He still watching you?”
“Yes, He’s beside me, staring at my chest.”
“Undo another button, and play with your other one, now.”
“He just looked up at my face, this is embarrassing.”
“Are you aroused? Or do you want to stop?” I keep my tone neutral. I know she’s turned on, she loves public displays and gets off on humiliation.

She doesn’t answer. So I continue. “Open your shirt.”
“I… Y-Yes, Sir.”
“Can He see your nipples?”
“One of them, Sir.”
“Are you blushing?”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Are you humiliated?”
“Yes.”
“Does that turn you on? Are you wet?”
“Um… Yes… and yes.”
“Is he staring at you? Can you see his desire?”
“Definitely, Sir. He’s staring at my breast.”
“One more button, let him see them both.”

I feel my cock growing, I wish I were sitting next to her and could touch her myself while some pathetic bloke watches, wishing he could have what is mine.

“Lick your fingers again and twist your nipples. Look at them, aren’t they beautiful?”
“Oh, Sir. I wish you were here…”
“How’s traffic, still stopped?”
“Yes, Sir. I can’t believe I’m doing this. The woman in front of me just flipped up her rear view mirror….”
“She just wishes she were as sexy as you. Put your hand under your skirt. Tell me what your panties feels like.”
“They are silky, and wet, Sir. Very wet.”
“Tell me more.”
“My… my clit is swollen and I’m trembling a little.”
“Put your finger in your panties and circle it. I want to hear you.”

She moans as she obeys, I hear her whimper softly and then gasp.

“Is he watching you touch yourself?”
“I think he’s touching himself, too. I… Sir…”
“You can stop, sweet girl. It pleases me that other men find you desirable but can’t have you. But if it bothers you…”
“I just… I don’t…”
“Are you turned on?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then stop thinking and do as I say.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Pull up your skirt, can he see?”
“I think so.”
“Rub your clit. Tell me what he does.”
“He’s gaping at me. His eyes keep flashing over my body, to my face and back. He is stroking his crotch. He just mouthed something. Oh, he wants to know if I’m on the phone.”
“Answer him.”
“I nodded and I held up my wedding ring. This is seriously the sluttiest thing I’ve ever done. He mouthed you are a lucky man, Sir.”
“Pull your hand out and lick your fingers.”
“Oh, God, Sir…”
“Are you thinking, or doing what you’re told?”
“Obeying, Sir.”
“Tell me what he’s doing.”
“He’s rubbing himself pretty fast and staring at me.”
“Is traffic still stopped?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“How do you feel?”
“Exposed. Turned on. Humiliated. …On the edge, Sir.”
“I want you to come. Rub your clit, spank it four times and rub some more. I want to hear my naughty girl come.”

I hear her suck in a long breath and let it out in a rush. She moans with each of the four hard smacks, and then as she rubs her little, pleasure nub, I hear her moan and whimper and then curse.

“Sir, I’m… yesssss…..”

I wait for her to enjoy her moment. “Mmmmm, I love to hear you come. Good girl. Is your voyeur still looking?”
“Yes, sir. He’s dazed though.”
“Make sure you lick your fingers for him.”
“Oh, Sir. Only for you. This was only for you.”
“Yes, but now I’m going to have to spank you when you get home for letting another man watch you have an orgasm.”

I hear her giggle, “Yes, Sir. …So sorry, Sir.”
“Now, straighten yourself out before a cop comes along and gives you a ticket.”
“Maybe he’d let me off if I gave him the same show!” She laughs, “But with my luck, he wouldn’t appreciate it as much as the landscaper.”

I chuckle and listen to her straighten her clothes as I pull into our garage.

“Traffic is starting to move finally. I can’t wait to get home to you, Sir.” Her sweet voice fills my car, and I recline back in my seat to listen to her.

“Is your voyeur gone?”
“He gave me a thumbs up and pulled off the highway a moment ago.”
“How does it feel to be permanently part of someone else’s fantasies?”

She giggles again and then sighs. It fills me once again with that longing. To touch her, kiss her, …play with her, directly.

“Tell me about your day, Sweet Wife. I don’t want to let you go until you’re in my arms.”

D/s Married, Fiction

The Assignment – Part 3

August 29, 2013August 30, 2013 Mel Douleur

…continued from The Assignment – Part 2

“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.”

As we both drive home, He continues to ask me questions.

“Did the gel make your orgasm more intense this afternoon?”
“I’m not sure, Sir. It was pretty intense, for self pleasure, but that could’ve been because of the phone sex.”
“I bet you’re blushing right now… I love it when you blush.”
My cheeks flame red for about the thousandth time today. “Yes, Sir.”
“Mmmm, are you still wet?”
“Definitely.”
“Talk to me, I’m getting on the highway. Tell me what you were thinking this afternoon.”
“I was imagining you, standing in front of me, ordering me to touch myself. I pictured you sliding your hand over your… erection.”
He chuckles. “Pick a different word.”
“Dick?”
“Come on, wife…”
“I imagined you stroking your smooth, diamond-hard cock.”
“Mmmm, bet you’re blushing again!”
“I am, Sir,” I whispered. I love all this sexy joking around.
“When I was spanking my pussy, I was worried that someone might hear, but then I remembered what you said this morning about worrying. It felt so good, touching myself for you. I loved it.”
“Are you on hands-free?”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Are there cars around you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good, put your hand in your shirt and play with your nipple.”
I hesitate. But, I am His to control.
“There goes that blush again. Is your nipple hard?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Imagine me biting it. Imagine me twisting the other one while sucking on that one. Are they both hard?”
“Uh-huh…”
“OK, stop, I don’t want you getting into an accident. …You have a tendency to close your eyes.”
“They’re open, Sir. There is a guy staring at me in the car next to me.”
“Mmmm, I bet you look so sexy playing with your tits.”
“He’s pulling in front of me… Now He’s staring at me in his rear view mirror.”
“Don’t follow too close. How far are you from home?”
“Ten minutes, Sir.”
“If I were in the car with you, I would pull open your shirt so he could see you touching yourself. I love it when other men want you. I bet he wishes he was in the car with you right now. But you’re mine, no one else can have you.”
“Only Yours, Sir.” I sigh, filled with love and lust and barely able to contain either, much less together.

He arrives home first and tells me when I get there, I’m to go straight to our bedroom and undress, bend over the bed with my hands behind my back and my feet flat on the floor, spread at least 3′ apart. I love it when He is explicit. I’m so turned on.

He hangs up and I speed away from the voyeur, slightly enjoying the momentary idea of Him watching me touch myself and stroking his own erection.

When I arrive, I rush inside and close the garage door. I hurry up the stairs to my closet. I don’t know where He is, but I follow His orders, taking only a moment to tie my hair back into a ponytail.

And I wait. The anticipation builds. My mind empties, as I try to reach for subspace. I never get there, without His help, but I get close when I’m naked, waiting for Him. Waiting for His punishment or pleasure, his teasing or torture, his Dominance.

It’s been quite a while, but I keep myself from looking at the clock. It is His time, not mine. Then I feel it. The electricity in the air. The vibrations on my skin. Like a radar detector, my body senses His presence.

His hands skim over my bottom. “You’ve been a very bad girl, but I almost don’t think I should spank you after the punishment you received last night. Your ass is still pink.”

I feel Him wrapping my forearms behind my back with His belt. “But, I cannot ignore the fact that you made my afternoon incredibly uncomfortable. Do you know how, Sweet Wife?” As He finishes binding my arms, He pushes His erection against my ass. His naked cock slides between my cheeks, almost entering me, but sliding through my slit to my clit.

“I… You… I….” My stammers earn me a smack to my right thigh. I take a deep breath, “I’m sorry I bothered You at work with my arousal, Sir. I understand that is what made Your afternoon uncomfortable.”

“Mmm, Good Girl. I’m going to punish you, but not like last night. If it is too much, or if you are too sore, tell me now. Use your safewords.”

“Play, Sir.” I exhale, not feeling very sore anymore, just wanting His touch, any way He wants to give it.

“I want you to count. And I want you to thank me.” His voice is low and His palms slide over my ass and down my thighs. He presses himself against me again, but He’s harder and it hits my wet hole. He forces Himself inside and when He pulls back out, he smacks me on the right side.

“Ah, one… Sir, Thank You,” I cry out, and He immediately slams into me again.

“Oh, God… two, Thank You, Sir.” He continues in this manner, jamming His cock deep inside of me and ripping it out, spanking me between and alternating sides until He can no longer stop to pull out completely. He pounds into me over and over, and I can’t count the blows. I’m floating in the stars until He grabs my ponytail and pulls my head back.

“Do you like this, dirty girl? Tell me what a slut you are,” he growls as He slows His pace, leaning over me and biting my shoulder in the spot that is linked directly with my clit.

“AH… Yes, Sir, I’m Your slut, …Your naughty, little slut!”

He pulls out of me, lifts me off the bed by my lashed arms, turns me around and pushes me to my knees in one fluid movement that makes my head spin. “Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

I lick and suck the head of His dick, swirling my tongue around the tip and tasting myself on His skin. Then I take Him into my mouth and push my lips down the shaft as far as I can. I stroke Him with my tongue as I pull away before sucking Him back into my mouth, further this time, until I feel Him at the back of my throat and He groans with pleasure.

After a few more of these suck and pulls, He grabs my ponytail and pushes deeper into my throat. I swallow and moan as He pulls back and thrusts into my mouth again and again. He lets go and I take over His rhythm, sucking Him deep and moaning as I pull back, sending vibrations through His skin. I feel Him trembling, He growls His enjoyment, grabbing my hair, and pushing His cock deeper still. I swallow against my gag reflex and He explodes into the back of my throat. I suck every drop of His salty seed as He quakes with the aftershocks of His orgasm.

“Oh, such a good, good, girl. You certainly know how to do that well.” He strokes my hair back where He pulled it free from my hair band, then walks around to sit on the bed behind me and pulls the band out gently. He glides His fingers through my hair then sections and braids it. When He wraps the band around the tail, He slides off the bed to kneel behind me.

He stretches His fingers around my neck, pushing my head back against His shoulder. His other hand glides over my breasts, pinching each nipple and tugging until I gasp. He tightens His grip around my neck as His lips find my ear. “Shall we check on our favorite little button?”

His hand slides between my legs, and He pushes my lips apart. My clit is only slightly aroused, and He tuts against my ear, sending shivers down my neck. “I guess hair braiding does hit high on a sluts lists of turn-on’s. Let’s see if we can find some things that are.”

He grips my pussy and throat as He stands, bringing me up with Him, like a doll. I whimper when He releases me. He spins me around and slides His hand around my throat again. “You like this, don’t you?” He growls and raises my lips to His but doesn’t kiss me.

“I wonder what else you like.” His fingers skim down my breasts while He kicks my feet apart, I stand on my toes so that He doesn’t loosen His grip. “Do you like it when I position you?”
“Yes, Sir…” I whimper against His lips.
“Do you like it when I tease you? Deny you the one thing you want more than anything in the moment?”
“Mmmmm…Yeah…” His fingers trail down my belly to my pussy and He smacks it lightly with the back of His fingers, and I moan.
“Oh yes, you like that the most…” He does it again, a little harder, several times and my knees grow a weak.

He spins me and sits me on the edge of the bed, then kneels in front of me. He pushes my knees far apart and grabs the bottle of clit gel from the table. As he spreads it one, I suck in a breath through and He blows on my pussy, cooling the mild burn caused by the gel. As my clit grows, He rubs in circles and blows, and I start to moan as I feel an orgasm building already. I clench my muscles and bear down, trying to stop the waves that are rising.

“No, no, sweet girl. Let flow. Relax and feel everything.” He lowers His mouth and blows directly on my my clit while sliding two fingers inside my cunt. He circles my clit with His tongue, testing to make sure the gel won’t come off in His mouth. I’m trembling and can’t sit up any more. I fall back, my restrained arms causing my back to arch. His sucks my clit into his mouth and I cry out, moan and writhe against His mouth. I tip over the edge, and He starts pounding His fingers in and out. I come apart, screaming His name and trying to wiggle free. He doesn’t stop though, and before the first orgasm ends, another is building.

He reaches His other hand up to pinch and twist my nipples, and the incredible sensations rolling through my body push me over the edge again. I beg Him, for what I don’t know. He finally releases my clit and growls at my to sit up.

I try but my muscles will not cooperate. He reaches up and grabs me by the neck, pulling me up to sit and holding me there while He holds His fingers inside of me. He starts stroking my G spot, and circling my clit with His thumb. I barely recognize the sounds coming from my throat and I feeling myself building again.

“I love the sounds you make, sweet girl, let me hear you.” He growls against my lips.
“Oh, Please Sir…”
“Please, What? What do you want? What will tip you over the edge?”
“Oh Please kiss me…”
“Ah, you can do better than that. Tell me, beg me…”
“Please! I want… I need your tongue in my mouth, I want…”

He lowers my lips onto His, and thrusts His tongue in, filling my mouth. I feel myself teetering on the edge, barely clinging to a massive climax, when He pulls away. “Come all over me, you sweet, dirty slut,” He growls against my lips, and I explode into a million pieces, squirting in His hand. Screaming and writhing, grinding against His fingers, this orgasm goes on and on until He finally stands and flips me over.

He rams into me from behind, pulling my hips and stretching my legs. I cry out as He thrusts into me again and again. “I want to see you. I want to watch you come again.”

He lays down on the bed and pulls me onto Him. My mind is having trouble catching up as His hands dig into my hips as He tries to guide me. I can’t follow, and in my haze, I must say “Pause” because He pulls Himself up to sit and wraps His arms around me. He strokes my hair and then reaches behind me to release my arms. He rubs my arms and raises them to wrap around His neck. He puts His hands on either side of my face and when I lean in to kiss Him, He whispers, “You need to tell me you’re OK, sweet girl.

“I am… Sir. Play, I’m OK.” I breath against His lips. As we kiss and rock into each other, I raise my hands to stroke His hair. He pulls away to look into my eyes and His expression is sweet and beautiful. “You are exquisite,” He whispers.

I tighten my arms around His neck and clench around Him. He feels amazing and my clit is hitting the perfect spot. I moan and sigh, and His lips trail down my jaw and neck. When I breath His name, I feel Him thrust deeper. “Oh please…” I groan, and He digs His fingers into my hips, guiding me as we both get closer and closer to lost.

“I love fucking you,” he growls. “I fucking love you,” I cry out. As we both teeter on the edge, He pushes His tongue into my mouth again and I gush around Him, pushing Him over, and we are both airborne. As I ride out the aftershocks, He collapses back onto the bed, then I fall onto His chest.

As I catch my breath, I ask Him if I completed my assignment well.

“Oh, Sweet Wife, you did absolutely.”
“Do I get a grade, Sir?”
“A+, baby. You aced it!”

I can only hope I do as well on the next one.