He and I are an ostensibly monogamous couple. By "ostensibly," I mean that we have pledged our emotional and physical exclusivity but He is pursuing the possibility of introducing another man (and then another woman) (and then a couple!) into our bed in the near future. We both agree that opening our physical relationship up to incorporate others will keep our relationship fresh and enhance the D/s dynamic that we already share. What better to emphasize my training in submission than to subject me to the whims of two men at once? I think it is a splendid idea.
I don't consider that a true open relationship, just one in which our monogamy is slightly flexible. Neither of us has expressed a desire to have an open relationship because I think we are comfortable with the way our relationship has worked thus far to this point.
However, there is a darker part to this story, which is that I have a terrible track record of infidelity in relationships in the past. (Amazingly though, I've never had a relationship end because of my infidelity.) The infidelity was a result of my intense emotional and physical dissatisfaction in the relationship in question. Instead of addressing the issue and leaving the relationship, I would seek out something else outside of the relationship, usually a brief sexual encounter.
I also have had a few experiences that, which not cheating per se, were less than honest. Most of those involved a dalliance early in a relationship. I would do this because I was afraid of the commitment that I was about to enter into. Two times I have fucked someone other than the man I was dating to see if I was really ready to settle down. In both cases, the dalliance proved to be unsatisfying and I ran into the arms of the man I was dating and committed to him happily.
The theme common to both of these experiences is that I fear there is something out there, some unknown that I'm missing, something tempting that I need to seek out to make sure that I have made the right decision. (Other times, I will seek out these experiences as a negative reaction to something that my significant other does so that sex becomes a form of punishment or a weapon.)
So he came up with a solution to this problem: take the intrigue of an outside experience out of the equation. He acknowledges that I'm a girl with needs and that those needs weren't always met in my past relationships. He understands why I would look for something else to satisfy me. At the same time, he is pretty sure he will be able to satisfy my emotional and physical needs so that I won't need to look outside our relationship. But just in case, he has given me permission to see out encounters as I need. He would like to be present for the encounter of course, but if he's not around, I can get phone permission for the encounter.
At the same time, he has warned me of the ramifications of acting without permission or acting outside the scope of any permission that is granted. He wants to make sure that I don't engage in any sort of sneakiness or dishonesty in the pursuit of my gratification since he has provided a framework for my satisfaction that is open, honest and supportive of our relationship.
I haven't had an opportunity to act on this newfound freedom (which is so tightly controlled by him that I don't know how free it would be, actually). I'm not sure that I ever will. I am completely consumed by Him, body and mind, that I can not think of anyone else. That familiar itch, that curiosity about what else might be out there, is completely absent this time. He fulfills me emotionally and physically, so I'm not sure that I would ever feel the need to test our relationship and its openness in this way.
But who knows what the future holds? I am intrigued by the possibility and his enormous trust in me. I am amazed by his confidence that he is all I need, because in the end I too have faith that I will always return to him.
Her
He and I had plans to go out with my friend S. on Friday night. S. has been my friend for over 10 years. She was my first friend at college and I was in her wedding. We also had a threesome with an ex-boyfriend of mine years ago. I told Him about that experience at the beginning of our relationship and he has always cursed my ex as the luckiest bastard on earth.
So, needless to say, He was very excited about S.'s visit this week. He enjoys hearing about my previous exploits, especially as they relate to any sexual contact I have had with women. I have been pretty open with him about my attraction to women, which I would describe as a mild form of bisexuality (albeit with a heterosexual preference).
We have discussed, at length, the possibility of inviting another woman to join us in bed. I am intrigued by the though of the two of us together, of us both on Him, but I am also wary. I'm concerned about whether I would feel suddenly, homicidally jealous in the heat of the moment. If I saw him touching her, if he seemed to love the feel of her with any intensity...I didn't know what that would do. He told me that his is willing to restrict his direct contact with the woman until I become more comfortable, if at all, but I've continued to beg off. He hasn't pushed me, but I know that it remains a possibility.
Anyway, I tried to explain to him that S. is married now and that she's not the wild child that she was back in college. He remained steadfast in his desire to see us together. He was convinced that he could use his sexual charisma to reawaken the old S. I know how strong his pull can be, but I didn't think she'd be moved.
The evening went very well. We went to our favorite bar and everyone was relaxed. He sat in between S. and me at the bar, his arms draped across the backs of our tall bar stools. He often rested his hand on the back of my neck. Sometimes he wrapped his hand in my hair and gave it a firm tug, sometimes he whispered a few words - I own you - into my ear. He joked and laughed with S., gently touching her on the arm. She seemed happy and focused on us both. Everything felt so natural.
At one point, S. and I were telling Him an old inside joke involving...well, it involved simulated oral sex on the straw of a drink. I had S. demonstrate for him and I could see his eyes light up as her tongue slowly caressed the plastic drinking straw. I wanted him to see her do that and I knew what his reaction would be. I wanted to share that with him, for us to watch her together, feel the heat between us while we did, squeeze hands. When she was done, I leaned over to him and whispered into his ear: "You're welcome." He smiled at me and sighed wistfully.
The evening ended without a sexual encounter with S., as I expected and as I think was for the best because of the closed nature of her marriage. But the next evening, as He and I laid in bed, I confessed that I had experienced a dramatic change in my feelings about having a threesome with him and another woman as a result of our evening with S. At first, I was resentful that he was so interested in orchestrating an encounter between the three of us because I was focused on sexual jealousy. It felt so dirty and lascivious on his part. I could only see him as a predator in the situation and felt that it would turn out badly for both S. and I. But the reality of our evening together made me feel quite different.
I felt so close to them both and I realized later that I wanted S. to come home with us very badly. I wanted to hold her, to touch her softly, to feel her tight against my body. I wanted him there, his hands in our hair. I wanted S. and I to be his little girls. I wanted him to take care of us. I wanted to giggle and roll around on the bed with her, laughing. I wanted to pick my head up off of the bed after coming and catch her eye, see her panting with desire. I wanted to feel him behind us as we were up on all fours, I wanted to feel him moving between us both. I wanted to hold her hand, cradle her as he fucked her.
Those feelings had been completely absent from my conceptualization of a threesome with Him and another woman. My desire for the woman as separate from an expression of His desire had been the missing piece. Obviously, the situation with S. was not a possibility, but I was hopeful. If only we could find a willing woman who triggered the same response in me, in us both, we could begin to explore together.
So, needless to say, He was very excited about S.'s visit this week. He enjoys hearing about my previous exploits, especially as they relate to any sexual contact I have had with women. I have been pretty open with him about my attraction to women, which I would describe as a mild form of bisexuality (albeit with a heterosexual preference).
We have discussed, at length, the possibility of inviting another woman to join us in bed. I am intrigued by the though of the two of us together, of us both on Him, but I am also wary. I'm concerned about whether I would feel suddenly, homicidally jealous in the heat of the moment. If I saw him touching her, if he seemed to love the feel of her with any intensity...I didn't know what that would do. He told me that his is willing to restrict his direct contact with the woman until I become more comfortable, if at all, but I've continued to beg off. He hasn't pushed me, but I know that it remains a possibility.
Anyway, I tried to explain to him that S. is married now and that she's not the wild child that she was back in college. He remained steadfast in his desire to see us together. He was convinced that he could use his sexual charisma to reawaken the old S. I know how strong his pull can be, but I didn't think she'd be moved.
The evening went very well. We went to our favorite bar and everyone was relaxed. He sat in between S. and me at the bar, his arms draped across the backs of our tall bar stools. He often rested his hand on the back of my neck. Sometimes he wrapped his hand in my hair and gave it a firm tug, sometimes he whispered a few words - I own you - into my ear. He joked and laughed with S., gently touching her on the arm. She seemed happy and focused on us both. Everything felt so natural.
At one point, S. and I were telling Him an old inside joke involving...well, it involved simulated oral sex on the straw of a drink. I had S. demonstrate for him and I could see his eyes light up as her tongue slowly caressed the plastic drinking straw. I wanted him to see her do that and I knew what his reaction would be. I wanted to share that with him, for us to watch her together, feel the heat between us while we did, squeeze hands. When she was done, I leaned over to him and whispered into his ear: "You're welcome." He smiled at me and sighed wistfully.
The evening ended without a sexual encounter with S., as I expected and as I think was for the best because of the closed nature of her marriage. But the next evening, as He and I laid in bed, I confessed that I had experienced a dramatic change in my feelings about having a threesome with him and another woman as a result of our evening with S. At first, I was resentful that he was so interested in orchestrating an encounter between the three of us because I was focused on sexual jealousy. It felt so dirty and lascivious on his part. I could only see him as a predator in the situation and felt that it would turn out badly for both S. and I. But the reality of our evening together made me feel quite different.
I felt so close to them both and I realized later that I wanted S. to come home with us very badly. I wanted to hold her, to touch her softly, to feel her tight against my body. I wanted him there, his hands in our hair. I wanted S. and I to be his little girls. I wanted him to take care of us. I wanted to giggle and roll around on the bed with her, laughing. I wanted to pick my head up off of the bed after coming and catch her eye, see her panting with desire. I wanted to feel him behind us as we were up on all fours, I wanted to feel him moving between us both. I wanted to hold her hand, cradle her as he fucked her.
Those feelings had been completely absent from my conceptualization of a threesome with Him and another woman. My desire for the woman as separate from an expression of His desire had been the missing piece. Obviously, the situation with S. was not a possibility, but I was hopeful. If only we could find a willing woman who triggered the same response in me, in us both, we could begin to explore together.
Fight
He pulled the anal beads out of me slowly. I moaned, my pussy and my ass extremely sensitive from the massive orgasm that he had just drawn out of me. I laid on my back in the middle of the bed. I needed a moment to gather myself.
But he wasn't in a patient mood.
He grabbed my ankles with one hand and pulled them straight up in the air, lifting my ass off of the ground. He touched his fingers to my asshole to feel if it was still lubed up from the beads. He dropped my ankles to reach for the bottle of lube on the night table for his cock. As soon as he released me, I skittered to the far corner of the bed away from him and curled my legs up in front of me. I couldn't take him in my ass at that moment. I wasn't ready.
When he turned back and saw me cowering, he shook his head and growled. He reached out for my ankles and dragged me back to the middle of the bed. My arms flailed and I tried to hold onto the sheets to keep him from pulling me to him.
"Get back here," he ordered, but I just couldn't face him. As he pulled my legs up by the ankles again, I started squirming and begging him to stop. I put my palms and the soles of my feet against his stomach to try to prevent him from thrusting into me. He wrestled with me as I tried to push him away.
I realized that the more I fought him, the worse I was probably making things for myself. He was angry and increasingly aggressive. In an attempt to avoid taking it in the ass, had I incited him to fuck me there harder? But I couldn't stop. I was so afraid and the only thought - if it was a coherent thought and not just a gut instinct - was to get away.
As I fought him harder, he seemed to take perverse joy in overpowering me again and again. At one point, I think he let me go just to toy with me, to see how quickly he could bring me back under his control again. He wrestled me to the point where I was pinned beneath him, hands and feet up in a defensive position. He looked me right in the eyes.
"Kitten, relax," he said quietly yet sternly. I struggled again in vain. "Kitten, stop it!," he yelled. I stopped and closed my eyes. "Open your eyes," he said immediately. I took a deep breath and looked at him.
"I want you to let go of me with your hands. Put your hands behind your head." I paused, considering what he'd do if I relinquished my defensive position. I slowly took my hands off of him and put them behind my head.
"Good girl," he sighed. "Now, stretch out your legs and put them on my shoulders." I hesitated. He wanted me to let go of my final layer of defense. "Kitten, now," he coaxed. I took a deep breath and put my legs up. He immediately slid into my ass, pushing down on my body as he leaned into me. I gasped in surprise and a tear slid down the side of my face. "Good girl," he soothed as he pumped into me.
But after a few thrusts, he let go of me. I must have look surprised as he laid down next to my shaking body. What had just happened?
"Kitten, you know I don't want to hurt you. But I did want to see that moment when you let go and trusted me." I blinked and bit my lip in an attempt not to cry. He was testing me all along. Stupid, stupid girl. He was testing me.
"You've been away and focused on a lot of other things the past few weeks, right?" He turned to look at me and I nodded. He looked back up at the ceiling. "Well, now you're back here with me and I think you need to refocus. You've been out of your element and you just need to be retrained a little bit."
He turned on his side to look at me. I was quivering, trying to hold my shame and disappointment in myself on the inside but I was failing miserably. More and more tears were leaking down the sides of my face.
"Oh, little one, don't cry. You just needed a reminder," he cooed as wiped away my tears. "You needed to feel me over you and to feel yourself letting go."
I sniffled and my breathing calmed. "Are you mad at me?," I whispered in my smallest voice.
He laughed softly. "Of course not. I am happy to see that you're finally back with me." He pulled me to him and kissed the top of my head. "Now, up on your hands and knees..."
But he wasn't in a patient mood.
He grabbed my ankles with one hand and pulled them straight up in the air, lifting my ass off of the ground. He touched his fingers to my asshole to feel if it was still lubed up from the beads. He dropped my ankles to reach for the bottle of lube on the night table for his cock. As soon as he released me, I skittered to the far corner of the bed away from him and curled my legs up in front of me. I couldn't take him in my ass at that moment. I wasn't ready.
When he turned back and saw me cowering, he shook his head and growled. He reached out for my ankles and dragged me back to the middle of the bed. My arms flailed and I tried to hold onto the sheets to keep him from pulling me to him.
"Get back here," he ordered, but I just couldn't face him. As he pulled my legs up by the ankles again, I started squirming and begging him to stop. I put my palms and the soles of my feet against his stomach to try to prevent him from thrusting into me. He wrestled with me as I tried to push him away.
I realized that the more I fought him, the worse I was probably making things for myself. He was angry and increasingly aggressive. In an attempt to avoid taking it in the ass, had I incited him to fuck me there harder? But I couldn't stop. I was so afraid and the only thought - if it was a coherent thought and not just a gut instinct - was to get away.
As I fought him harder, he seemed to take perverse joy in overpowering me again and again. At one point, I think he let me go just to toy with me, to see how quickly he could bring me back under his control again. He wrestled me to the point where I was pinned beneath him, hands and feet up in a defensive position. He looked me right in the eyes.
"Kitten, relax," he said quietly yet sternly. I struggled again in vain. "Kitten, stop it!," he yelled. I stopped and closed my eyes. "Open your eyes," he said immediately. I took a deep breath and looked at him.
"I want you to let go of me with your hands. Put your hands behind your head." I paused, considering what he'd do if I relinquished my defensive position. I slowly took my hands off of him and put them behind my head.
"Good girl," he sighed. "Now, stretch out your legs and put them on my shoulders." I hesitated. He wanted me to let go of my final layer of defense. "Kitten, now," he coaxed. I took a deep breath and put my legs up. He immediately slid into my ass, pushing down on my body as he leaned into me. I gasped in surprise and a tear slid down the side of my face. "Good girl," he soothed as he pumped into me.
But after a few thrusts, he let go of me. I must have look surprised as he laid down next to my shaking body. What had just happened?
"Kitten, you know I don't want to hurt you. But I did want to see that moment when you let go and trusted me." I blinked and bit my lip in an attempt not to cry. He was testing me all along. Stupid, stupid girl. He was testing me.
"You've been away and focused on a lot of other things the past few weeks, right?" He turned to look at me and I nodded. He looked back up at the ceiling. "Well, now you're back here with me and I think you need to refocus. You've been out of your element and you just need to be retrained a little bit."
He turned on his side to look at me. I was quivering, trying to hold my shame and disappointment in myself on the inside but I was failing miserably. More and more tears were leaking down the sides of my face.
"Oh, little one, don't cry. You just needed a reminder," he cooed as wiped away my tears. "You needed to feel me over you and to feel yourself letting go."
I sniffled and my breathing calmed. "Are you mad at me?," I whispered in my smallest voice.
He laughed softly. "Of course not. I am happy to see that you're finally back with me." He pulled me to him and kissed the top of my head. "Now, up on your hands and knees..."
Work
I had been away on my business trip for a few days and returned on a Saturday afternoon. He planned to come by that night - we had been talking about it for days. I could hear the mounting sexual frustration in his voice as the days went by. He was practically climbing the walls by the last day of the trip and I know he was annoyed that I was too distracted by work to commiserate with him.
But when I returned on Saturday, I got hit with a last minute crisis at work and had to postpone our reunion evening until Sunday. He was pissed. I could have fit in an hour or two with him, but I was afraid that I would be too distracted to spend time with him or that he'd end up taking up more of my time that I could afford to give him. He knew that and it probably made him even angrier, but he didn't say anything that night.
When my work was finally done and I could see him, he came right over and started in on me. He was savage with the pent-up emotions of the past week. He almost tore me apart.
When I was done coming, not the first time or the second time but the fifth time that hour, he grabbed me by the throat and pinned me to the bed.
"You've been so distracted by your work, haven't you Kitten?" He didn't wait for me to respond. He increased the pressure on my neck. "Well, you're with me now. When I'm here, I'm your boss. You work for me. You serve me, please me. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I croaked, knowing that this was payback for the postponement.
"Good," he grunted and pointed at his cock. "Now, get back to work."
But when I returned on Saturday, I got hit with a last minute crisis at work and had to postpone our reunion evening until Sunday. He was pissed. I could have fit in an hour or two with him, but I was afraid that I would be too distracted to spend time with him or that he'd end up taking up more of my time that I could afford to give him. He knew that and it probably made him even angrier, but he didn't say anything that night.
When my work was finally done and I could see him, he came right over and started in on me. He was savage with the pent-up emotions of the past week. He almost tore me apart.
When I was done coming, not the first time or the second time but the fifth time that hour, he grabbed me by the throat and pinned me to the bed.
"You've been so distracted by your work, haven't you Kitten?" He didn't wait for me to respond. He increased the pressure on my neck. "Well, you're with me now. When I'm here, I'm your boss. You work for me. You serve me, please me. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I croaked, knowing that this was payback for the postponement.
"Good," he grunted and pointed at his cock. "Now, get back to work."
Surprise
I was going to be away for work for five days, almost an eternity to be away from Him. (Yes, we are a bit co-dependent and we're okay with that.) I unexpectedly had a weekday afternoon at home - time for a nap, to pack, clean up a bit - before I had to leave that evening.
I was laying on the couch, flipping channels, when he texted me.
Him: I want you.
Kitten: I want you too.
Him: How bad?
Kitten: Very, very bad.
This sort of idle texting wasn't unusual for us. We spent most of our time at work alternately working,missing each other and getting hot for each other. What can I say? We're like two teenagers sometimes ;-)
Him: I wish I was there to taste you. Are you home?
Kitten: Yes, I'm home.
I stayed on the couch, lazily contemplating how long I could nap before I had to get to the airport. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at my door. I sat up with a start and looked around the apartment. It had to be the superintendent of the building. Anyone else would have to be buzzed in through the main entrance door. The super had found out that I had been smoking in my apartment and had come to yell at me. I quickly gathered up the ashtray and the lighter and stowed them under the couch.
There was the knock again, louder this time. I minced toward the door. Maybe I could pretend not to be home? I looked through the peephole, but it was dark. That bastard put his finger over the peephole so I couldn't see him!
I flung the door open, ready to be evicted from the apartment, but He was standing there with a seductive smile on his face. He pushed me into the apartment, dropping his coat in the hallway as the door slammed behind us. I sputtered in surprise for a few seconds. I couldn't get over the fact that he was standing there at 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday.
"Up against the wall, don't make a sound," he growled with that grin still on his face. He pushed me against the wall by the back of my neck and then placed my palms on the wall above my head. "You didn't expect to see me today, did you?," he seethed. I shook my head no and kept my eyes straight ahead. "Surprise, little girl. You never know what to expect. Remember, always be ready."
As he stripped me naked in the hallway and put me back up against the wall, he noticed my smile. "What is it, Kitten?"
"I'm just so glad that you're here."
I was laying on the couch, flipping channels, when he texted me.
Him: I want you.
Kitten: I want you too.
Him: How bad?
Kitten: Very, very bad.
This sort of idle texting wasn't unusual for us. We spent most of our time at work alternately working,missing each other and getting hot for each other. What can I say? We're like two teenagers sometimes ;-)
Him: I wish I was there to taste you. Are you home?
Kitten: Yes, I'm home.
I stayed on the couch, lazily contemplating how long I could nap before I had to get to the airport. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at my door. I sat up with a start and looked around the apartment. It had to be the superintendent of the building. Anyone else would have to be buzzed in through the main entrance door. The super had found out that I had been smoking in my apartment and had come to yell at me. I quickly gathered up the ashtray and the lighter and stowed them under the couch.
There was the knock again, louder this time. I minced toward the door. Maybe I could pretend not to be home? I looked through the peephole, but it was dark. That bastard put his finger over the peephole so I couldn't see him!
I flung the door open, ready to be evicted from the apartment, but He was standing there with a seductive smile on his face. He pushed me into the apartment, dropping his coat in the hallway as the door slammed behind us. I sputtered in surprise for a few seconds. I couldn't get over the fact that he was standing there at 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday.
"Up against the wall, don't make a sound," he growled with that grin still on his face. He pushed me against the wall by the back of my neck and then placed my palms on the wall above my head. "You didn't expect to see me today, did you?," he seethed. I shook my head no and kept my eyes straight ahead. "Surprise, little girl. You never know what to expect. Remember, always be ready."
As he stripped me naked in the hallway and put me back up against the wall, he noticed my smile. "What is it, Kitten?"
"I'm just so glad that you're here."
When The Game Doesn't End
We had a fight at the grocery store. It was stupid, about something small, created by a stray look or a bruised feeling. Who even remembers what started it? (He probably does. He has a way of cataloging these types of things forever.) I rolled my eyes at him in the car, gave him a dismissive hand-wave in the parking lot, and walked away from him on the sidewalk when he tried to joke around with me in an attempt to get past it. We were having a plain-old spat, a boyfriend-girlfriend moment. There was nothing D/s to it. He wasn't my Owner. We were just like any other couple.
But maybe that was the problem?
Later we sat side-by-side on couch, my head on his shoulder, and gave our apologies. He was still a bit upset that I walked away from him and I was miffed that he thought about leaving me alone after that. On the whole, however, cooler heads prevailed.
I was wondering though: How far could power exchange creep into our lives? When he told me not to walk away from him and I did it anyway, I thought about how he could have ordered me not to do so if he was my Owner at that moment. If I knew that he was my Owner at that moment, I would not have walked away from him in the first place; my head would have been in an entirely different place. I thought about the reckless freedom I have over my actions and choices when I consider myself only his girlfriend and not his owned submissive. That freedom gets me in trouble because I don't know where the line is.
I have already recounted several instances when he caught me off guard with his springing dominance, times when he turned a innocent quip into an intense moment or took an unexpected opportunity to assert his ownership. Did I want D/s to bleed over into our vanilla lives more and more? Did I want there to be no surprises, to always know that he controlled me?
I took that quiet moment to ask him about it. "When we're in the bedroom and you tell me to look at you or something, I just do it because I'm trained to. But when we're in the car and I roll my eyes, I get confused when you tell me not to do that. I would never do that when we were in the bedroom because I know the rules there, but it seems like I don't know the rules outside the bedroom."
He nodded, encouraging me to continue to speak freely.
"It's like when you're playing football. When the ref blows the whistle to start the game, you know it's ok to tackle another player. When the ref blows the whistle again, you know the game is over and it would be inappropriate to tackle. But things aren't clear cut like that with us. I don't know whose rules we're playing under when we're not in the bedroom, and I think that causes some problems. We each think we have our own rules. We end up fighting about how we fight and it just gets worse."
He stared at me quietly for a moment. "What if the game doesn't end?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, what we do in the bedroom isn't just playing around, right?" I nodded. Everything was so intense, so real, that it couldn't just be a lark, something that we could leave behind. I still felt his dominance and his control long after we left the bedroom and I didn't consider it something we played at. "I think that your training could extend outside the bedroom. I think you need some more discipline and some more rules, so things like tonight don't happen."
I thought for a moment. What exactly was he proposing? I wasn't sure myself, but it seemed like a logical progression. The whiplash I was facing between D/s time and non-D/s time was too much. Would this solve that problem?
On the other hand, would it create a whole host of other problems? I didn't want to suffocate under the weight of his control and I certainly didn't want to invite a dictatorial authority into every area of my life. If his idea of extending our D/s dynamic meant micro-managing my life in a way that affected my job, I didn't think that we'd be long for this world. In the same vein, I didn't want him use his control to stifle all dissent from me in a way that would leave me dissatisfied and essentially disenfranchised within my own relationship.
"Is that something that you'd like?," he asked gently. I couldn't read his expression. I didn't know what he was thinking. I really didn't know what I was thinking. But at that moment, I wanted the heavy comfort of his control over me to eliminate all of the confusion.
"I think so. But I've never done anything like that before. I don't know what it would look like." I literally could not wrap my head around it. "Can we try and see what happens? Talk about it as things come up?"
"Of course we can. And you know how much I respect you. You know that I would never do anything that would hurt you or upset you," he said. "Now, take off your pants." I stood up and removed my jeans and socks. When I turned back to him, he patted his lap. He was going to punish me.
He laid me gently over his lap and started spanking me with his left hand. In his right hand, he held the front of my neck so that my back was arched and he could see my face. As he hit me, he asked me, "When I tell you to stop walking away from me, what do you do?"
"I stop."
"When I tell you to drop down to your knees, what do you do?"
"I do it."
"Do you walk away from me in anger?"
"No, Sir."
"Good girl," and he stood up, dragging me by the hair toward the bedroom. Halfway down the hallway, he stopped abruptly and sighed. "Oh, you are so lucky that I'm not wearing a belt today, you are so fucking lucky." We were standing near my closet and my eyes must have darted toward the door. His face lit up. "What belts do you have? Show them to me."
So I got out three belts. The first: a thin black Calvin Klein belt that I wear with pants for work. The second: a stiff, medium-width black belt with silver metal studs and rings on it. The third: a wide, heavy brown leather belt. He took them all from me and pushed me over the bed.
He started beating me with the thin belt, but he quickly threw it to the side. "Too light," he muttered. Then he went to work with the medium belt, but grew tired of the light smacks it made on my skin. "Too stiff," he grumbled. So, like we were acting out some perverted form of Goldilocks, he turned to the third belt. He had already warmed up, so there were no soft introductory hits. He started right in with the hard wallops. He moaned appreciatively at the hard thwack sound that the belt made and the way each blow made me jump in pain.
After the first few blows, he made me count to ten for him. He had warned me that he would start over if I didn't say the numbers loudly enough, so I made certain to shout them out clearly. I could make it to ten, but if he started over? I might just meltdown with the pain.
He was done with the ten and he rolled me over onto my back. I winced at the welts that I could already feel on my ass and my back, but he steadied me with his palm against my chest. "Stay," he whispered and I laid my head back, closed my eyes. I heard him pick up a different belt, then felt the sharp sting of the first thin belt whipping across my nipples. I opened my eyes in shock to see him grinning devilishly. He pinned my wrists with one hand and continued torturing my nipples with the belt in the other.
I squealed, louder, deeper with my head thrown back. Suddenly, he stopped and I could feel his mouth on my nipples. His tongue teased each in turn, gently, slowly. He laid the belt across my chest and reclined next to me.
"Kitten, I think we finally understand each other," he smiled. I nodded absently. I was afraid of what was ahead. Would my life change dramatically? Hadn't there been enough dramatic change already in the few short months I had known him?
But at the same time, he had already taken me so far and I had been safe and loved the entire time. Of course we could make this work if he was leading us. I would follow him, I would be his good girl and follow him.
But maybe that was the problem?
Later we sat side-by-side on couch, my head on his shoulder, and gave our apologies. He was still a bit upset that I walked away from him and I was miffed that he thought about leaving me alone after that. On the whole, however, cooler heads prevailed.
I was wondering though: How far could power exchange creep into our lives? When he told me not to walk away from him and I did it anyway, I thought about how he could have ordered me not to do so if he was my Owner at that moment. If I knew that he was my Owner at that moment, I would not have walked away from him in the first place; my head would have been in an entirely different place. I thought about the reckless freedom I have over my actions and choices when I consider myself only his girlfriend and not his owned submissive. That freedom gets me in trouble because I don't know where the line is.
I have already recounted several instances when he caught me off guard with his springing dominance, times when he turned a innocent quip into an intense moment or took an unexpected opportunity to assert his ownership. Did I want D/s to bleed over into our vanilla lives more and more? Did I want there to be no surprises, to always know that he controlled me?
I took that quiet moment to ask him about it. "When we're in the bedroom and you tell me to look at you or something, I just do it because I'm trained to. But when we're in the car and I roll my eyes, I get confused when you tell me not to do that. I would never do that when we were in the bedroom because I know the rules there, but it seems like I don't know the rules outside the bedroom."
He nodded, encouraging me to continue to speak freely.
"It's like when you're playing football. When the ref blows the whistle to start the game, you know it's ok to tackle another player. When the ref blows the whistle again, you know the game is over and it would be inappropriate to tackle. But things aren't clear cut like that with us. I don't know whose rules we're playing under when we're not in the bedroom, and I think that causes some problems. We each think we have our own rules. We end up fighting about how we fight and it just gets worse."
He stared at me quietly for a moment. "What if the game doesn't end?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, what we do in the bedroom isn't just playing around, right?" I nodded. Everything was so intense, so real, that it couldn't just be a lark, something that we could leave behind. I still felt his dominance and his control long after we left the bedroom and I didn't consider it something we played at. "I think that your training could extend outside the bedroom. I think you need some more discipline and some more rules, so things like tonight don't happen."
I thought for a moment. What exactly was he proposing? I wasn't sure myself, but it seemed like a logical progression. The whiplash I was facing between D/s time and non-D/s time was too much. Would this solve that problem?
On the other hand, would it create a whole host of other problems? I didn't want to suffocate under the weight of his control and I certainly didn't want to invite a dictatorial authority into every area of my life. If his idea of extending our D/s dynamic meant micro-managing my life in a way that affected my job, I didn't think that we'd be long for this world. In the same vein, I didn't want him use his control to stifle all dissent from me in a way that would leave me dissatisfied and essentially disenfranchised within my own relationship.
"Is that something that you'd like?," he asked gently. I couldn't read his expression. I didn't know what he was thinking. I really didn't know what I was thinking. But at that moment, I wanted the heavy comfort of his control over me to eliminate all of the confusion.
"I think so. But I've never done anything like that before. I don't know what it would look like." I literally could not wrap my head around it. "Can we try and see what happens? Talk about it as things come up?"
"Of course we can. And you know how much I respect you. You know that I would never do anything that would hurt you or upset you," he said. "Now, take off your pants." I stood up and removed my jeans and socks. When I turned back to him, he patted his lap. He was going to punish me.
He laid me gently over his lap and started spanking me with his left hand. In his right hand, he held the front of my neck so that my back was arched and he could see my face. As he hit me, he asked me, "When I tell you to stop walking away from me, what do you do?"
"I stop."
"When I tell you to drop down to your knees, what do you do?"
"I do it."
"Do you walk away from me in anger?"
"No, Sir."
"Good girl," and he stood up, dragging me by the hair toward the bedroom. Halfway down the hallway, he stopped abruptly and sighed. "Oh, you are so lucky that I'm not wearing a belt today, you are so fucking lucky." We were standing near my closet and my eyes must have darted toward the door. His face lit up. "What belts do you have? Show them to me."
So I got out three belts. The first: a thin black Calvin Klein belt that I wear with pants for work. The second: a stiff, medium-width black belt with silver metal studs and rings on it. The third: a wide, heavy brown leather belt. He took them all from me and pushed me over the bed.
He started beating me with the thin belt, but he quickly threw it to the side. "Too light," he muttered. Then he went to work with the medium belt, but grew tired of the light smacks it made on my skin. "Too stiff," he grumbled. So, like we were acting out some perverted form of Goldilocks, he turned to the third belt. He had already warmed up, so there were no soft introductory hits. He started right in with the hard wallops. He moaned appreciatively at the hard thwack sound that the belt made and the way each blow made me jump in pain.
After the first few blows, he made me count to ten for him. He had warned me that he would start over if I didn't say the numbers loudly enough, so I made certain to shout them out clearly. I could make it to ten, but if he started over? I might just meltdown with the pain.
He was done with the ten and he rolled me over onto my back. I winced at the welts that I could already feel on my ass and my back, but he steadied me with his palm against my chest. "Stay," he whispered and I laid my head back, closed my eyes. I heard him pick up a different belt, then felt the sharp sting of the first thin belt whipping across my nipples. I opened my eyes in shock to see him grinning devilishly. He pinned my wrists with one hand and continued torturing my nipples with the belt in the other.
I squealed, louder, deeper with my head thrown back. Suddenly, he stopped and I could feel his mouth on my nipples. His tongue teased each in turn, gently, slowly. He laid the belt across my chest and reclined next to me.
"Kitten, I think we finally understand each other," he smiled. I nodded absently. I was afraid of what was ahead. Would my life change dramatically? Hadn't there been enough dramatic change already in the few short months I had known him?
But at the same time, he had already taken me so far and I had been safe and loved the entire time. Of course we could make this work if he was leading us. I would follow him, I would be his good girl and follow him.
Cut, Part II
"Oh god, I want to bite you so hard," he moaned as he nibbled on the sensitive skin on the back of my neck. "I want to break your skin and hear you cry out." I sighed with desire. "Do you want to bleed for me, Kitten?"
"Yes," I whispered into his shoulder. I was hiding my face from him.
"Do you want me to cut you so you can bleed for me?," he asked. I nodded yes. "Kitten, look at me." I lifted my head to look at him. "I'll cut you, but you don't get to do it to yourself anymore." He paused, waiting for his words to sink in. "If you feel the urge, I want you to ask me for it. I want you to say 'Can I bleed for you, Daddy?' and I will do it. But you don't get to do it to yourself from now on."
I put my head back down and felt the tears well up hot in my eyes.
"Do you understand, Kitten?"
"Yes, Sir, " I mumbled. "But...," I trailed off.
"But what, Kitten?"
"What if this ends? What if you're not there? How will I handle the pain then?," I sobbed quietly.
"I'm always going to be here to take care of you. You don't even have to worry that I won't be here," he reassured me.
I laid there quietly for a long time. I realized that if I relinquished this area of control, if I let him take over the way I managed pain, then I would have little of my private, inner self left within my control. But then I thought about this burden, this secret burden, that I had been carrying for all of these years. He could take that weight off of my shoulders, all of it. I needed him to take that weight. I was too tired to carry it any more.
"Have...have you ever thought of cutting something into me?," I asked quietly.
"Yes," he said immediately, hopefully. "Have you?" I nodded quickly, feeling electricity crackle between us, connect us. "What have you thought of, Kitten?"
"Your initials," I whispered in my smallest voice.
"Yes, that's what I was thinking."
"Really?" Had he read my mind again?
"I was thinking of marking you so you'd know just how much I own you. Maybe before you go away next month so you can carry me with you. Would you like that?"
I was delirious with joy. "More than anything." I could barely speak between my tears. "More than anything."
"Yes," I whispered into his shoulder. I was hiding my face from him.
"Do you want me to cut you so you can bleed for me?," he asked. I nodded yes. "Kitten, look at me." I lifted my head to look at him. "I'll cut you, but you don't get to do it to yourself anymore." He paused, waiting for his words to sink in. "If you feel the urge, I want you to ask me for it. I want you to say 'Can I bleed for you, Daddy?' and I will do it. But you don't get to do it to yourself from now on."
I put my head back down and felt the tears well up hot in my eyes.
"Do you understand, Kitten?"
"Yes, Sir, " I mumbled. "But...," I trailed off.
"But what, Kitten?"
"What if this ends? What if you're not there? How will I handle the pain then?," I sobbed quietly.
"I'm always going to be here to take care of you. You don't even have to worry that I won't be here," he reassured me.
I laid there quietly for a long time. I realized that if I relinquished this area of control, if I let him take over the way I managed pain, then I would have little of my private, inner self left within my control. But then I thought about this burden, this secret burden, that I had been carrying for all of these years. He could take that weight off of my shoulders, all of it. I needed him to take that weight. I was too tired to carry it any more.
"Have...have you ever thought of cutting something into me?," I asked quietly.
"Yes," he said immediately, hopefully. "Have you?" I nodded quickly, feeling electricity crackle between us, connect us. "What have you thought of, Kitten?"
"Your initials," I whispered in my smallest voice.
"Yes, that's what I was thinking."
"Really?" Had he read my mind again?
"I was thinking of marking you so you'd know just how much I own you. Maybe before you go away next month so you can carry me with you. Would you like that?"
I was delirious with joy. "More than anything." I could barely speak between my tears. "More than anything."
Wake Up
I woke up with His mouth on my clit. I stretched as he pushed my legs apart and brought me to orgasm with amazing rapidity. As my moans subsided, my alarm went off. I hit snooze and rolled over.
He curled up behind me and pressed his stiff cock against my back. He lifted up my nightgown and slid inside me from behind. We fucked slowly, sleepily. He moaned throatily in my ear as we moved together.
My alarm went off again, but he held me close, thrusting deep inside me. I told him that I would be late for work, but he ignored my protests. "Stay right where you are," he hissed in my ear. He fucked me for a few minutes more before letting me up to go shower.
I was toweling off after my shower when I saw his hand around the edge of the bathroom door. He had his camera phone in his hand.
"Open the towel, Kitten," he said softly. "Don't roll your eyes, little girl," he warned and he raised the camera. He snapped a few pictures of my naked body and then left the room, smiling at all of his early morning surprises and the shocked look on my face.
Later, I was the the bedroom getting dressed when I noticed that he was looking at the pictures and at my body. I knew what he was up to.
"Please, don't. I'll be late and I can't be late today," I pleaded but that may have spurred him on. He loves it when I beg.
He smirked and started touching himself. "You're not leaving until I come," he said. I finished getting ready while he continued to stroke his cock. "Come over here," he moaned. "Kneel down next to the bed." I knelt, making sure I didn't wrinkle my suit skirt.
He watched me kneeling there watching him and he stroked faster. I saw his orgasm build and then he came on the bed, right where I sleep. "Now, lick it up," he said when he stopped coming.
"What?," I asked, incredulous.
"Lick up my come and then you can go to work." I started lapping at the come pooled on the sheets. I was humiliated, but I was also in a hurry. Being a submissive on a schedule is quite a challenge sometimes, you know. "I won't mess up your makeup by rubbing your face in my come, not this time at least," he laughed as I grimaced.
When I was done, he patted my cheek. "Good girl," he said, "now have a good day at work."
He curled up behind me and pressed his stiff cock against my back. He lifted up my nightgown and slid inside me from behind. We fucked slowly, sleepily. He moaned throatily in my ear as we moved together.
My alarm went off again, but he held me close, thrusting deep inside me. I told him that I would be late for work, but he ignored my protests. "Stay right where you are," he hissed in my ear. He fucked me for a few minutes more before letting me up to go shower.
I was toweling off after my shower when I saw his hand around the edge of the bathroom door. He had his camera phone in his hand.
"Open the towel, Kitten," he said softly. "Don't roll your eyes, little girl," he warned and he raised the camera. He snapped a few pictures of my naked body and then left the room, smiling at all of his early morning surprises and the shocked look on my face.
Later, I was the the bedroom getting dressed when I noticed that he was looking at the pictures and at my body. I knew what he was up to.
"Please, don't. I'll be late and I can't be late today," I pleaded but that may have spurred him on. He loves it when I beg.
He smirked and started touching himself. "You're not leaving until I come," he said. I finished getting ready while he continued to stroke his cock. "Come over here," he moaned. "Kneel down next to the bed." I knelt, making sure I didn't wrinkle my suit skirt.
He watched me kneeling there watching him and he stroked faster. I saw his orgasm build and then he came on the bed, right where I sleep. "Now, lick it up," he said when he stopped coming.
"What?," I asked, incredulous.
"Lick up my come and then you can go to work." I started lapping at the come pooled on the sheets. I was humiliated, but I was also in a hurry. Being a submissive on a schedule is quite a challenge sometimes, you know. "I won't mess up your makeup by rubbing your face in my come, not this time at least," he laughed as I grimaced.
When I was done, he patted my cheek. "Good girl," he said, "now have a good day at work."
Crawl, Part II
I knelt on the bathroom floor, naked and shaking in the darkness. I started to sob, crouching there on my hands and knees, alone. I couldn't believe how low I had sunk, how degraded I had become. Look what He had done to me, what I gave him my submission to let him do to me. How had I arrived at this place?
*****
He was choking me, holding my throat tightly as he fucked me hard.
"Tell me you love being choked while I fuck you," he demanded. I couldn't get any words out. When I hesitated, he slapped my face hard. "Tell me, now."
"I love it," I murmured. He slapped me again.
"Louder," he ordered. "Speak up when you're talking to me."
"I love it," I sobbed.
I was still sniffling when he had me suck his cock. He choked me on it again and again, making my eyes water and my nose run even more. I was having trouble breathing and needed a tissue.
"May I please get a tissue?" I knew enough by now to ask for permission.
"No, keep sucking it," and he pushed my head back down. I couldn't believe that he said no because he never had before.
After a few minutes of sucking his cock with his hand on the back of my head, he let me up to get a tissue. He let me walk there.
But when I got to the bathroom, I heard him call out to me. "Crawl back in here to me."
*****
That's how I ended up crouched on the bathroom floor, faced with the prospect of crawling back to him. I don't know what it was about crawling that seemed impossible to me at that moment. I just felt like it was too much, too degrading, too much to ask of me. We had reached a plateau in my submission some time ago and I had been fine for weeks, but suddenly we were climbing again. The climb was steep and I wasn't sure I could make it.
I knelt there, naked and cold, all alone. But what choice did I have? This was submission, there was no choice for me today. I crawled back to him and faced what I had coming to me.
*****
He was choking me, holding my throat tightly as he fucked me hard.
"Tell me you love being choked while I fuck you," he demanded. I couldn't get any words out. When I hesitated, he slapped my face hard. "Tell me, now."
"I love it," I murmured. He slapped me again.
"Louder," he ordered. "Speak up when you're talking to me."
"I love it," I sobbed.
I was still sniffling when he had me suck his cock. He choked me on it again and again, making my eyes water and my nose run even more. I was having trouble breathing and needed a tissue.
"May I please get a tissue?" I knew enough by now to ask for permission.
"No, keep sucking it," and he pushed my head back down. I couldn't believe that he said no because he never had before.
After a few minutes of sucking his cock with his hand on the back of my head, he let me up to get a tissue. He let me walk there.
But when I got to the bathroom, I heard him call out to me. "Crawl back in here to me."
*****
That's how I ended up crouched on the bathroom floor, faced with the prospect of crawling back to him. I don't know what it was about crawling that seemed impossible to me at that moment. I just felt like it was too much, too degrading, too much to ask of me. We had reached a plateau in my submission some time ago and I had been fine for weeks, but suddenly we were climbing again. The climb was steep and I wasn't sure I could make it.
I knelt there, naked and cold, all alone. But what choice did I have? This was submission, there was no choice for me today. I crawled back to him and faced what I had coming to me.
Kneeling
I came home from work and found Him in my bed. He pulled me to him and slipped his hands up my skirt. He tugged at the waistband of my tights and pushed the skirt up around my waist.
"Do you want to play, Kitten?"
I whimpered for a moment and then caught that look in his eye, the look that told me that he wasn't fooling around. I nodded enthusiastically.
He slid my panties down to the floor and pulled me over him on the bed into a 69 position. He pushed my head down onto his cock as he put his mouth against my pussy. My mouth full, I moaned around his cock. He worked his tongue on my clit and held me as I squirmed against his face. I sucked harder.
He slid a finger into my pussy, then another, and then one into my ass. The individual sensations of his tongue and his fingers blended together. I kept sucking his cock intently, blindly, overwhelmed by the building orgasm in my pussy.
I was moaning louder, practically screaming onto his cock. It was almost too much but he held me tight against him - I couldn't move away from what I was feeling. It was building and suddenly...I was exploding, hot white and bright, screaming but completely without sensation.
And then it was over. I knelt over him, shaking and sweating. I slid off of his body down onto the floor where I knelt at his feet. He sat up and I laid my head on his lap. He stroked my hair as my breathing returned to normal.
"Kitten, you're my little girl," he cooed and I nuzzled my head into his lap. I was so happy, kneeling naked at his feet, safe and sated.
He lifted my head and looked into my eyes. "You'll always be my little girl. I'll always take care of you, Kitten." I nodded, wanting to stay there with him like that forever. I wanted him to take care of me, knew that he would do that always. He laid my head down again and I closed my eyes, feeling his hands smoothing down my hair, caressing my neck.
I knelt there for what felt like hours. At some point, he picked me up and put me to bed. But in my sleep, I was still there on the floor at his feet with my head on his lap.
"Do you want to play, Kitten?"
I whimpered for a moment and then caught that look in his eye, the look that told me that he wasn't fooling around. I nodded enthusiastically.
He slid my panties down to the floor and pulled me over him on the bed into a 69 position. He pushed my head down onto his cock as he put his mouth against my pussy. My mouth full, I moaned around his cock. He worked his tongue on my clit and held me as I squirmed against his face. I sucked harder.
He slid a finger into my pussy, then another, and then one into my ass. The individual sensations of his tongue and his fingers blended together. I kept sucking his cock intently, blindly, overwhelmed by the building orgasm in my pussy.
I was moaning louder, practically screaming onto his cock. It was almost too much but he held me tight against him - I couldn't move away from what I was feeling. It was building and suddenly...I was exploding, hot white and bright, screaming but completely without sensation.
And then it was over. I knelt over him, shaking and sweating. I slid off of his body down onto the floor where I knelt at his feet. He sat up and I laid my head on his lap. He stroked my hair as my breathing returned to normal.
"Kitten, you're my little girl," he cooed and I nuzzled my head into his lap. I was so happy, kneeling naked at his feet, safe and sated.
He lifted my head and looked into my eyes. "You'll always be my little girl. I'll always take care of you, Kitten." I nodded, wanting to stay there with him like that forever. I wanted him to take care of me, knew that he would do that always. He laid my head down again and I closed my eyes, feeling his hands smoothing down my hair, caressing my neck.
I knelt there for what felt like hours. At some point, he picked me up and put me to bed. But in my sleep, I was still there on the floor at his feet with my head on his lap.
History
"Kitten, did you ever take a man home from a bar and fuck him?," he asked as we lay in bed.
"Um...maybe...," I trailed off, embarrassed. Why did he always want to know the sordid details of my past?
"Tell me about it," he prodded. "I want to know about all of the naughty things that you've done."
So I told him all about how I met a man at a bar while I was living in a foreign city for a summer internship. How we made out shamelessly in a dark corner of the bar, growing increasingly bold in our groping. How we went to a hotel because we were both staying with friends who didn't appreciate overnight guests. How I stood there with my eyes down, ashamed, as he paid for the room. How I only learned his last name when I caught a glimpse of it on his credit card. How I worried about how I looked like a prostitute, checking into a hotel with a strange man late at night with no luggage.
He loved the story. It made him hard and I ended up pinned underneath him. "You're such a bad girl, Kitten," he moaned with pleasure as he fucked me hard with my legs around his waist. "Are you a slut just for me now?"
"Yes," I whispered, ashamed at what I had done. It's funny, because at the time I thought my daring one-night-stand was an act of sexual liberation, true freedom after the demise of a stagnant relationship.
"Look at me," he ordered from over me. "You're my slut now, just for me. Only I know about what you've done and I love every second of it. Forget everything that happened before. Are you my slut now?" His eyes were kind, warm. He was fucking me so deeply. It felt amazing. I let go of the past.
"Yes," I sighed and held him. "Yes, I'm just for you now."
"Um...maybe...," I trailed off, embarrassed. Why did he always want to know the sordid details of my past?
"Tell me about it," he prodded. "I want to know about all of the naughty things that you've done."
So I told him all about how I met a man at a bar while I was living in a foreign city for a summer internship. How we made out shamelessly in a dark corner of the bar, growing increasingly bold in our groping. How we went to a hotel because we were both staying with friends who didn't appreciate overnight guests. How I stood there with my eyes down, ashamed, as he paid for the room. How I only learned his last name when I caught a glimpse of it on his credit card. How I worried about how I looked like a prostitute, checking into a hotel with a strange man late at night with no luggage.
He loved the story. It made him hard and I ended up pinned underneath him. "You're such a bad girl, Kitten," he moaned with pleasure as he fucked me hard with my legs around his waist. "Are you a slut just for me now?"
"Yes," I whispered, ashamed at what I had done. It's funny, because at the time I thought my daring one-night-stand was an act of sexual liberation, true freedom after the demise of a stagnant relationship.
"Look at me," he ordered from over me. "You're my slut now, just for me. Only I know about what you've done and I love every second of it. Forget everything that happened before. Are you my slut now?" His eyes were kind, warm. He was fucking me so deeply. It felt amazing. I let go of the past.
"Yes," I sighed and held him. "Yes, I'm just for you now."
Crawl
He came up behind me as I stood at the bathroom sink brushing my teeth. He rested his hands lightly on my hips and stared at me in the mirror. I finished brushing - reluctantly spitting in front of him - and straightened up to look at his reflection. He pulled down my panties and turned me toward him, getting on his knees in front of me. I stood on my toes and spread my legs, sitting back on the counter a bit to give him access to my pussy. He sucked hard on my clit and I gasped in response. I came hard, grinding my pelvis against his face.
Without providing me with much opportunity to recover, he pushed me down to my knees and pulled his cock out of his pants. He held it in front of my face. "Do you want this?," he asked with an innocent look on his face. Of course I wanted it, I always want him in my mouth. I nodded eagerly.
"Beg for it then," he ordered with a hardened expression on his face.
"Please?," I asked with wide eyes.
"It doesn't sound like you want it," he said regretfully and he started to tuck his cock back into his pants.
"No, please, I really do want it! Please!," I begged desperately, holding onto his hands so he wouldn't finish fastening his pants. "Please, can I have your cock in my mouth?" I bit my lip in anticipation.
He sighed as if he was bothered by the suggestion. "Fine, here," he said as he offered me his cock. I lapped at it with enthusiasm and his reluctance seemed to ebb away. He held my hair and guided me up and down his shaft for a few minutes before he pulled my face away.
"Go into the bedroom," he ordered. I stood up to walk out of the bathroom, but he held me down on my knees. "No, crawl there."
I looked up at him for a moment. I didn't know what to do. He held my gaze, challenging me to refuse him. "I'm not kidding. Crawl." I leaned forward onto all fours and slowly crawled into the hallway in front of him. He held my by the hair and led me into the bedroom. When we reached the bed he sat down, pulling me on my knees in front of him.
"Good girl," he spoke as if to a puppy. I felt like an animal, low and obedient. It was humiliating but it turned me on.
"Go get my belt," and he pointed across the room. I paused again, held my breath for a beat. I didn't think he was going to let me stand to get it.
"That's right," he said, reading my mind, "crawl to get it and bring it back to me in your mouth." Oh, it was worse that I thought. I had been so focused on worrying about him watching my ass as I crawled away from him that I overlooked the fact that I would have to carry the belt back to him. In my mouth, obviously.
I slowly crawled across the room to retrieve the belt. I stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out another way to bring it back. He snapped his fingers impatiently, so I just put in between my teeth and crawled back to him, eyes lowered.
"Good girl," he cooed as he took the belt from me. I knelt beside him as he looped the belt around my neck and pulled it tight. After it was fastened around my neck, he stood quickly and walked across the room. He pulled me along behind him. I scrambled along the floor, trying to keep up with him, trying to keep from being choked.
He doubled back, jerking on the belt to make me turn to follow him, and led me over to the door of the bedroom. I kept my eyes on the ground. I knew what was on the door: a full-length mirror. He pulled me up to a stop in front of it.
"Look at yourself."
I shook my head. I couldn't look up. I knew what I would see and I wasn't sure that I could handle it.
"Do it, look at yourself," he ordered, jerking my head up by my hair.
I stared at the girl in the mirror. The panic on her face - panic from the belt around her neck, panic from being choked and pulled around on the hardwood floor - was evident. Was it possible that the girl in the mirror was me? As long as I looked away, I could pretend that these things that were happening, these humiliating and degrading things, were happening to someone else, someone outside of myself. But once I looked in the mirror, it was as if a hidden part of myself came crashing into my reality.
Those horrible fantasies, those terrible things He did, they were all a part of me. The real me. I didn't have those things hidden apart from myself any more. He had brought it all together, brought it all out into the open to share. My secret life was over.
I collapsed at his feet, sobbing. He reached down to stroke my hair and then unbuckled the belt. He lifted me up off of the floor and carried me over to the bed in his arms. I was breathing erratically, almost having a panic attack. He sat with me, telling me to breathe until I fell into a trance. My eyes were unfocused, but I could feel him next to me. I kept breathing, we all kept breathing.
Without providing me with much opportunity to recover, he pushed me down to my knees and pulled his cock out of his pants. He held it in front of my face. "Do you want this?," he asked with an innocent look on his face. Of course I wanted it, I always want him in my mouth. I nodded eagerly.
"Beg for it then," he ordered with a hardened expression on his face.
"Please?," I asked with wide eyes.
"It doesn't sound like you want it," he said regretfully and he started to tuck his cock back into his pants.
"No, please, I really do want it! Please!," I begged desperately, holding onto his hands so he wouldn't finish fastening his pants. "Please, can I have your cock in my mouth?" I bit my lip in anticipation.
He sighed as if he was bothered by the suggestion. "Fine, here," he said as he offered me his cock. I lapped at it with enthusiasm and his reluctance seemed to ebb away. He held my hair and guided me up and down his shaft for a few minutes before he pulled my face away.
"Go into the bedroom," he ordered. I stood up to walk out of the bathroom, but he held me down on my knees. "No, crawl there."
I looked up at him for a moment. I didn't know what to do. He held my gaze, challenging me to refuse him. "I'm not kidding. Crawl." I leaned forward onto all fours and slowly crawled into the hallway in front of him. He held my by the hair and led me into the bedroom. When we reached the bed he sat down, pulling me on my knees in front of him.
"Good girl," he spoke as if to a puppy. I felt like an animal, low and obedient. It was humiliating but it turned me on.
"Go get my belt," and he pointed across the room. I paused again, held my breath for a beat. I didn't think he was going to let me stand to get it.
"That's right," he said, reading my mind, "crawl to get it and bring it back to me in your mouth." Oh, it was worse that I thought. I had been so focused on worrying about him watching my ass as I crawled away from him that I overlooked the fact that I would have to carry the belt back to him. In my mouth, obviously.
I slowly crawled across the room to retrieve the belt. I stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out another way to bring it back. He snapped his fingers impatiently, so I just put in between my teeth and crawled back to him, eyes lowered.
"Good girl," he cooed as he took the belt from me. I knelt beside him as he looped the belt around my neck and pulled it tight. After it was fastened around my neck, he stood quickly and walked across the room. He pulled me along behind him. I scrambled along the floor, trying to keep up with him, trying to keep from being choked.
He doubled back, jerking on the belt to make me turn to follow him, and led me over to the door of the bedroom. I kept my eyes on the ground. I knew what was on the door: a full-length mirror. He pulled me up to a stop in front of it.
"Look at yourself."
I shook my head. I couldn't look up. I knew what I would see and I wasn't sure that I could handle it.
"Do it, look at yourself," he ordered, jerking my head up by my hair.
I stared at the girl in the mirror. The panic on her face - panic from the belt around her neck, panic from being choked and pulled around on the hardwood floor - was evident. Was it possible that the girl in the mirror was me? As long as I looked away, I could pretend that these things that were happening, these humiliating and degrading things, were happening to someone else, someone outside of myself. But once I looked in the mirror, it was as if a hidden part of myself came crashing into my reality.
Those horrible fantasies, those terrible things He did, they were all a part of me. The real me. I didn't have those things hidden apart from myself any more. He had brought it all together, brought it all out into the open to share. My secret life was over.
I collapsed at his feet, sobbing. He reached down to stroke my hair and then unbuckled the belt. He lifted me up off of the floor and carried me over to the bed in his arms. I was breathing erratically, almost having a panic attack. He sat with me, telling me to breathe until I fell into a trance. My eyes were unfocused, but I could feel him next to me. I kept breathing, we all kept breathing.
Demonstration
I bought a small metal clip for my wrist restraints to make it easier to hook them together. Without the clip, He has to loop the leather straps as he fastens them onto my wrists and it is sometimes uncomfortable for me.
I explained the clip to him over the phone, but I don't think he got what I was talking about. Later, when we were hanging out at my apartment, I demonstrated the clip and the cuffs for him.
"See, I just fasten each cuff individually," I showed him my wrists.
"Yes?," he encouraged.
"And then the clip hooks onto these metal loops," I continued as I fastened my wrists together in front of my face.
"Yes, I see," he nodded.
"And if you want to change position, you can just un-clip and re-clip. Here, clip them behind my back. See how easy?"
"Oh, yes, I see," he nodded, eyes sparkling, devilish smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
Oh shit, I thought, he knew what he was doing all along. I started inching away from him. "Okay, well, I was just going to show you, so...," I trailed off as he pulled me to him.
"Oh, you were just going to show me?," he teased.
"Yes, it was a demonstration and I didn't think...," I ditzed.
"You didn't think. Kitten, you should know me better than that," he laughed as he pushed me down onto the bed.
I explained the clip to him over the phone, but I don't think he got what I was talking about. Later, when we were hanging out at my apartment, I demonstrated the clip and the cuffs for him.
"See, I just fasten each cuff individually," I showed him my wrists.
"Yes?," he encouraged.
"And then the clip hooks onto these metal loops," I continued as I fastened my wrists together in front of my face.
"Yes, I see," he nodded.
"And if you want to change position, you can just un-clip and re-clip. Here, clip them behind my back. See how easy?"
"Oh, yes, I see," he nodded, eyes sparkling, devilish smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
Oh shit, I thought, he knew what he was doing all along. I started inching away from him. "Okay, well, I was just going to show you, so...," I trailed off as he pulled me to him.
"Oh, you were just going to show me?," he teased.
"Yes, it was a demonstration and I didn't think...," I ditzed.
"You didn't think. Kitten, you should know me better than that," he laughed as he pushed me down onto the bed.
Tears, Part II
We laid on top of the blankets in our pajamas, face to face. He was so close that his features were blurred, chocolate brown eyes, soft lips, my fingers against his cheek.
"I love your smile," I murmured softly. "It's the first thing I noticed when I saw you." I sighed wistfully as he pulled me closer. Our noses touched.
"I thought you were beautiful the moment I saw you," he whispered and kissed my eyelids. I blushed and nuzzled his face affectionately. He pressed his hips against mine. I could feel his hardness against me.
He kissed my lips slowly, lingering, as he ground his hips into me insistently. My breathing quickened. I had to have him at that moment.
"Please," I begged quietly against his lips, "please, can I have you on top of me?"
He sighed with lust and pushed my nightgown up over my hips. He slipped off his pajama pants and quickly climbed on top of me, putting my ankles on his shoulders. He leaned down to look into my eyes as he started fucking me slowly.
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me too
I'll do anything for you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
The Velvet Underground played softly in the background, putting words to the feelings in my heart. I felt held, loved, I felt him over me, all around me. He looked into my eyes as he moved over me. I felt so full that my heart might burst. The tears welled up in the eyes and spilled down the sides of my face.
"Oh, Kitten," he moaned softly and leaned down to kiss the tears from my cheeks. He fucked me deeper, deeper.
I cried for all the love I held for him inside of me, for everything that I couldn't say. I cried tears of fear and loss and hope, above all hope, that I would never have to live without him. I cried tears of overwhelming joy. As I cried, he moved faster above me, looking down at me with such love in his eyes that I could only cry more. He leaned down, cradling me in his arms, even as my legs were bent over my head. It didn't matter how uncomfortable I was. I just wanted him to hold me, to soothe me, as he came deep inside me.
"I love your smile," I murmured softly. "It's the first thing I noticed when I saw you." I sighed wistfully as he pulled me closer. Our noses touched.
"I thought you were beautiful the moment I saw you," he whispered and kissed my eyelids. I blushed and nuzzled his face affectionately. He pressed his hips against mine. I could feel his hardness against me.
He kissed my lips slowly, lingering, as he ground his hips into me insistently. My breathing quickened. I had to have him at that moment.
"Please," I begged quietly against his lips, "please, can I have you on top of me?"
He sighed with lust and pushed my nightgown up over my hips. He slipped off his pajama pants and quickly climbed on top of me, putting my ankles on his shoulders. He leaned down to look into my eyes as he started fucking me slowly.
I'll do anything for you
Anything you want me too
I'll do anything for you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
Oohoh I'm sticking with you
The Velvet Underground played softly in the background, putting words to the feelings in my heart. I felt held, loved, I felt him over me, all around me. He looked into my eyes as he moved over me. I felt so full that my heart might burst. The tears welled up in the eyes and spilled down the sides of my face.
"Oh, Kitten," he moaned softly and leaned down to kiss the tears from my cheeks. He fucked me deeper, deeper.
I cried for all the love I held for him inside of me, for everything that I couldn't say. I cried tears of fear and loss and hope, above all hope, that I would never have to live without him. I cried tears of overwhelming joy. As I cried, he moved faster above me, looking down at me with such love in his eyes that I could only cry more. He leaned down, cradling me in his arms, even as my legs were bent over my head. It didn't matter how uncomfortable I was. I just wanted him to hold me, to soothe me, as he came deep inside me.
Whipped
He laid me across his lap for my spanking. "You need it hard, don't you?," he asked in a hushed voice before he began. I squirmed with anticipation on his lap, happy to be the focus of his attention and discipline. It felt like being bathed in a warm light.
He started spanking me hard, methodically working one cheek and then the other. As my ass cheeks grew hot with the blows, he started testing my weakness - finding the sensitive spots and hitting those spots over and over.
After a time, he rolled me off of his lap and told me to wait, face down on the bed, for him to come back. I heard him go into the other room and unhook the belt from his pants. I whimpered as I heard the jingle of the belt buckle above me. I heard him work the leather of the belt between his hands.
He whipped the belt across my ass, lightly at first, making full use of the flexible leather. He warmed up to the feel of each blow, landing harder strokes and allowing several strokes to fall on the backs of my thighs.
I was gasping at how much each stroke stung and burned, at how the pain from the hardest strokes lingered on my skin. He watched me writhe in the sheets, waiting for me to return to position before he continued. I thought I was maintaining quite well at that point, aside from a slight buzzing in my head and a fuzziness around the edges of my vision.
He leaned over me and pulled my head off of the bed by my hair. He put his mouth close to my ear. "You wanted this, remember? You begged for this," he growled.
"Yes Sir," I stated clearly, confident that I could withstand the belt on my ass. Pain concentrated in that area has always been so highly sexualized for me that it is almost completely divorced from my traditional understanding of pain.
But then he started beating me across my back with the belt. I shuddered as he worked his way up from the middle of my back to my shoulders. I tried to lay still on my stomach with my hands underneath me, but I couldn't help but move in response to the pain. I was crying and curled up on my side with my fists clenched in front of my face. I was fighting the pain, holding tight inside to keep it together.
He picked me up and deposited me on the floor next to the bed in my kneeling spot. I cringed with my face against the bed as he ran his fingers lightly over my back, over the - were those welts? Yes, I could feel them raised up and hot across my back.
"You are going to take five more across your back," he said gently into my ear. I heard him snap the leather in his hands and braced myself. Once he began, my mind was a swirl of chaos and noise; behind me, I heard him counting out each stroke as it fell.
"Now you're going to take three more."
"No," I wailed, still reeling from the sharp bite of the last five.
"Fine, five more then," and he started counting. When he was done, he made me stand up. I was woozy and I stumbled backwards for a moment. Once I was steady, I felt him loop the belt around my neck and pull it tight. I started to sputter as he buckled it around my neck, pinching the skin on the side of my neck as he did so.
"Hold still, slut," he growled as he pulled me to him by the long lead. I looked up at him with my mouth hanging open in astonishment. I couldn't believe what was happening. His lips twisted into a cruel smile before he turned me to the bed and pushed me down on all fours in front of him. He pulled back on the belt as he thrust in to me roughly. He taunted me as he fucked me and choked me by pulling on the belt, calling me his slutty little pet, his whore. I heard him spit and then felt him work a wet finger into my asshole.
"Come on my cock like a naughty girl, come right now," he demanded. As he fucked me in both my holes, I came and collapsed on my stomach on the bed. He knelt over me to unbuckle the belt from my neck and lay it across my back.
He laid next to me and brushed my hair out of my eyes. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. I was calm and certain, steady.
"Look at you," he marveled, "look at that look. You're still so hungry, aren't you?"
I didn't break his gaze. I was right there with him.
"You can take more, can't you?," he asked with an excited look in his eyes. "Can you kneel and take more for me?"
"Whatever you want, Sir." I was already moving to kneel by the bed. Once I was in place, he paused over me with the belt in his hand.
"I love you, Kitten," he said with a cautionary note in his voice. Was he afraid to hurt me any more?
I smiled up at him. "I love you." Tonight, he would learn more about my capacity for pain; we both would.
He pushed my forehead down against the mattress. "Now, you will take ten. Count out loud."
He started spanking me hard, methodically working one cheek and then the other. As my ass cheeks grew hot with the blows, he started testing my weakness - finding the sensitive spots and hitting those spots over and over.
After a time, he rolled me off of his lap and told me to wait, face down on the bed, for him to come back. I heard him go into the other room and unhook the belt from his pants. I whimpered as I heard the jingle of the belt buckle above me. I heard him work the leather of the belt between his hands.
He whipped the belt across my ass, lightly at first, making full use of the flexible leather. He warmed up to the feel of each blow, landing harder strokes and allowing several strokes to fall on the backs of my thighs.
I was gasping at how much each stroke stung and burned, at how the pain from the hardest strokes lingered on my skin. He watched me writhe in the sheets, waiting for me to return to position before he continued. I thought I was maintaining quite well at that point, aside from a slight buzzing in my head and a fuzziness around the edges of my vision.
He leaned over me and pulled my head off of the bed by my hair. He put his mouth close to my ear. "You wanted this, remember? You begged for this," he growled.
"Yes Sir," I stated clearly, confident that I could withstand the belt on my ass. Pain concentrated in that area has always been so highly sexualized for me that it is almost completely divorced from my traditional understanding of pain.
But then he started beating me across my back with the belt. I shuddered as he worked his way up from the middle of my back to my shoulders. I tried to lay still on my stomach with my hands underneath me, but I couldn't help but move in response to the pain. I was crying and curled up on my side with my fists clenched in front of my face. I was fighting the pain, holding tight inside to keep it together.
He picked me up and deposited me on the floor next to the bed in my kneeling spot. I cringed with my face against the bed as he ran his fingers lightly over my back, over the - were those welts? Yes, I could feel them raised up and hot across my back.
"You are going to take five more across your back," he said gently into my ear. I heard him snap the leather in his hands and braced myself. Once he began, my mind was a swirl of chaos and noise; behind me, I heard him counting out each stroke as it fell.
"Now you're going to take three more."
"No," I wailed, still reeling from the sharp bite of the last five.
"Fine, five more then," and he started counting. When he was done, he made me stand up. I was woozy and I stumbled backwards for a moment. Once I was steady, I felt him loop the belt around my neck and pull it tight. I started to sputter as he buckled it around my neck, pinching the skin on the side of my neck as he did so.
"Hold still, slut," he growled as he pulled me to him by the long lead. I looked up at him with my mouth hanging open in astonishment. I couldn't believe what was happening. His lips twisted into a cruel smile before he turned me to the bed and pushed me down on all fours in front of him. He pulled back on the belt as he thrust in to me roughly. He taunted me as he fucked me and choked me by pulling on the belt, calling me his slutty little pet, his whore. I heard him spit and then felt him work a wet finger into my asshole.
"Come on my cock like a naughty girl, come right now," he demanded. As he fucked me in both my holes, I came and collapsed on my stomach on the bed. He knelt over me to unbuckle the belt from my neck and lay it across my back.
He laid next to me and brushed my hair out of my eyes. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. I was calm and certain, steady.
"Look at you," he marveled, "look at that look. You're still so hungry, aren't you?"
I didn't break his gaze. I was right there with him.
"You can take more, can't you?," he asked with an excited look in his eyes. "Can you kneel and take more for me?"
"Whatever you want, Sir." I was already moving to kneel by the bed. Once I was in place, he paused over me with the belt in his hand.
"I love you, Kitten," he said with a cautionary note in his voice. Was he afraid to hurt me any more?
I smiled up at him. "I love you." Tonight, he would learn more about my capacity for pain; we both would.
He pushed my forehead down against the mattress. "Now, you will take ten. Count out loud."
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