"Touch yourself and tell me when you're going to come," He said as he laid next to me, watching. I started playing with my clit and felt my pussy get wetter and wetter. I was moaning softly. I looked up at him and asked to come. "Get closer," He ordered and I kept playing. "Can I come now? Please?," I begged. He paused and I grew closer to orgasm. "No, stop," He said suddenly and I pulled my hand away sharply.
Then He did it again, allowing me to get close to coming and ordering me to stop. Each time I pulled away my hand quickly, but reluctantly. I knew that I would get a slap if I didn't stop, but I was unhappy about it.
Then He crouched between my legs and teased my inner thighs with his tongue. "Do you want to come?," He asked lightly. "Yes, please," I begged breathlessly. After what felt like an eternity, He finally touched his tongue to my clit and moved it unbearably slowly. "Fingers, please," I gasped, indicating that I wanted him to finger-fuck me while he licked my clit (a surefire way to orgasm for me). He slid two fingers into my pussy. I was just about to come. I begged, "Please, please, can I? Daddy please?" He said yes, and I felt the first wave about to break. That's when He pulled away and out of me.
I looked up in shock and squirmed with pent-up sexual frustration. Was he denying me? He laid next to me and touched my face.
"When you were about to come, what did I do?"
"You stopped," I said plainly, wondering if it was a trick question.
"And when I tell you to stop walking and wait, what should you do?"
"I should stop." Oh, I knew what this was. This was punishment.
"Good, then now you know how to stop. I just showed you," He said a touch smugly. "Maybe I should let you touch yourself and come while you suck my cock?," He asked.
"I would like that, please," I said tentatively.
"I bet you would. No, it's time for bed."
My mouth fell open. I had to come, I needed to come or I would be awake and out-of-sorts all night! He had never denied me an orgasm before. I couldn't believe it. A tear leaked out of my eye and I brushed it away, embarrassed. I sat up and smoothed my nightgown back over my thighs in a defeated gesture. Just as I was about to get up, He grabbed my arm.
"Oh, okay, you can come once, but I hope you learned your lesson," He chided with a wag of his finger. I smiled and crawled eagerly toward Him.
Showing posts with label humiliation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humiliation. Show all posts
On Fear
Things are not always as they seem. There is fear, but I am not scared. There are tears, but I am not upset. There is pain, but I am not hurt. So much of what you see here, dear readers, is a small sliver of the experience. Think of this place as a singular moment in which you get to peek through the crack in the door. Your eyes may deceive you.
Take fear: I have described many times my experiences with fear, too many to link to here. One of my earliest memories is running away from a parent who was about to physically discipline me. In that moment, as I ran up the steps of the house and locked the bedroom door behind me, I felt a pure rush of adrenaline. It was something overwhelming, something I had never experienced before. The feeling recurred in my dreams over the years, usually in a scenario when I was being chased. I could feel that enticing and terrifying rush in my sleep and I held onto it like it was a precious treasure of an experience.
When we are together, he recreates that feeling. He pushes me to a point where I feel like I am in jeopardy, either physically or emotionally. He brings me to that point of terror and I let him. I let him. I trust Him to do that because I know that I am safe in his hands. He pulls me in opposite directions - between fear and safety, pain and pleasure - and I feel the extreme emotions at each end. That is the essence of the experience. That is a delicious feeling and one that I would be hard-pressed to describe to anyone who has not been involved in such an experience.
The experience of fear feels very real but is buffeted by the ultimately safe nature of the entire framework. It ends, but I often write from within that experience because it is so world-bending that I cannot keep it inside me. But I do not live in fear of Him. I am never really afraid, after all. I am just experiencing fear in a safe way. I love him and trust him more because we have the ability to experience that together.
Same with crying: By now, he knows me well enough to see that I have trouble letting my anxieties and emotions out in a constructive way. I do not have a place to release those anxieties in my life. I am too busy placating my family members and pleasing my bosses. I cannot unleash an emotional torrent on them and I do not know what to do with these feelings. I suppose I could take up kickboxing, but that's not my cup of tea.
Instead, he helps me exorcise those demons in a constructive way. He may bring me down with verbal humiliation or push me past where I think I can go. He is very skilled and knows just how to lead me. The goal is to allow me to release these emotions, to sob with the grief that I feel and to cry out like I have been longing to all week. He absorbs everything as he holds me. Again, there are the emotional extremes, the humiliation and the comfort all in one place. I am not really upset by the experience, after all. It is safe for me and it is a wonderfully freeing experience. Sort of like primal scream therapy for kinky people ;-)
In both situations, if you happened to peek through the crack in the door at the moment when he is holding me down and I am flailing with a look of terror in my eyes, or when I am crying and racked with sobs, you would naturally think "My god, what is that man doing to that woman?" But your eyes deceive you. I have been deceived in the very same way. I have spent days wondering if I should be afraid of him or why he made me cry so, only to talk it over with him and realize that the emotional whiplash of the experience was the purpose, not the fear or the crying. I get wrapped up in my myopic perspective sometimes and miss the point. While I am working that out and until I come to a place of understanding, I come here to write.
That's my excuse. Yours is that you don't always get to see everything that goes on inside this relationship. That is understandable. I don't give you a running account of my whole life that would provide the context for much of what I do. But it is not my job to provide you with a comfortable experience every time and it is not my job to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside every time. Many of you do feel comfortable and warm and fuzzy, judging from a great majority of the comments. For everyone else, I don't really owe you an explanation as I do not expect you to constantly explain yourselves to me, although I'd like to provide a little understanding from my end.
And that is the point of blogging after all. To open up my world to you so I feel less alone, and maybe open yours up to an experience that you have only dreamed about. Or to educate you about different perspectives or to educate me about my own limitations. I feel a profound amount of love and peace in my relationship and in my submission, and if you can grab on to even a tiny piece of that, then we will have connected in a meaningful way. All you have to do is open your heart and see that I have been here, pouring mine out all along.
Daring
I thought I was over my period. Actually, I was, but it came back while I was fucking Him the other night. When He told me to get off of him and suck his cock, I saw a smear of blood on him and recoiled. I wasn't going to take him in my mouth like that. I just wasn't.
He saw what I saw and pushed me down toward his cock anyway. I whimpered and then shook my head slightly. I didn't want to disobey him, I feared bluntly saying "no," but I just couldn't do it. My eyes filled with tears as he persisted.
"Please Daddy, no, don't make me," I moaned, but he was unrelenting.
"Yes Kitten, now, take me in your mouth."
"But...but...," I sputtered, flailing my arms around helplessly. I balled up my fists and crushed them against my eyes, trying to block out what seemed inevitable.
"Just fucking do it," He growled.
I inched down toward his cock, looking anywhere but at him, trying to get out of this, trying to think of a solution. When it looked like I wouldn't be able to escape, I opened my mouth reluctantly and moved toward him.
But at the last possible second before my mouth touched his cock, he pulled me up and tenderly said, "That's enough." He sighed as he held me against him.
I should have felt relieved, but I was irate. How could he do that to me? It was a mindfuck, pure and simple. It was manipulation. It was humiliating. I was so stupid. I pushed against him, unwilling to feel grateful that he had let me go at the last second. Instead I felt a surge of hatred at what he did to me.
As he held me tighter, I struggled. "What do you feel right now?," he whispered, touching himself and watching me closely. "Mad," I grunted. "How could you do that?" I lost all sense of obedience and let my resentment course through my body.
"More, tell me more," he urged. I let the words spill from my mouth. "You can just do that, you can mess with me. You knew that I would do it if you asked. You fucked with me." I started beating my fists against his chest and I could see that he was growing more excited.
"Tell me, I know how you feel about me right now," he growled.
"I hate you, that's how I feel, I hate you," I shouted as I hit him in a frenzy. I was a blur of aggression, but he kept me held tightly to him throughout. I was angry but I was safe, venting everything that I held pent up inside me.
And then he came all over me in a rush of sighs and moans. He brushed my hair back from my face as I laid next to him in stunned silence. What had just happened?
"I control all of you, Kitten," he said, looking down at me. "I can bring everything out of you, everything that you've been hiding. I know that you hate that I can make you do anything, but sometimes you need to be reminded."
I smiled at him ruefully, giving him one last bump on his chest with my fist before cuddling deep in his arms.
He saw what I saw and pushed me down toward his cock anyway. I whimpered and then shook my head slightly. I didn't want to disobey him, I feared bluntly saying "no," but I just couldn't do it. My eyes filled with tears as he persisted.
"Please Daddy, no, don't make me," I moaned, but he was unrelenting.
"Yes Kitten, now, take me in your mouth."
"But...but...," I sputtered, flailing my arms around helplessly. I balled up my fists and crushed them against my eyes, trying to block out what seemed inevitable.
"Just fucking do it," He growled.
I inched down toward his cock, looking anywhere but at him, trying to get out of this, trying to think of a solution. When it looked like I wouldn't be able to escape, I opened my mouth reluctantly and moved toward him.
But at the last possible second before my mouth touched his cock, he pulled me up and tenderly said, "That's enough." He sighed as he held me against him.
I should have felt relieved, but I was irate. How could he do that to me? It was a mindfuck, pure and simple. It was manipulation. It was humiliating. I was so stupid. I pushed against him, unwilling to feel grateful that he had let me go at the last second. Instead I felt a surge of hatred at what he did to me.
As he held me tighter, I struggled. "What do you feel right now?," he whispered, touching himself and watching me closely. "Mad," I grunted. "How could you do that?" I lost all sense of obedience and let my resentment course through my body.
"More, tell me more," he urged. I let the words spill from my mouth. "You can just do that, you can mess with me. You knew that I would do it if you asked. You fucked with me." I started beating my fists against his chest and I could see that he was growing more excited.
"Tell me, I know how you feel about me right now," he growled.
"I hate you, that's how I feel, I hate you," I shouted as I hit him in a frenzy. I was a blur of aggression, but he kept me held tightly to him throughout. I was angry but I was safe, venting everything that I held pent up inside me.
And then he came all over me in a rush of sighs and moans. He brushed my hair back from my face as I laid next to him in stunned silence. What had just happened?
"I control all of you, Kitten," he said, looking down at me. "I can bring everything out of you, everything that you've been hiding. I know that you hate that I can make you do anything, but sometimes you need to be reminded."
I smiled at him ruefully, giving him one last bump on his chest with my fist before cuddling deep in his arms.
Humiliation Nation
The other night, He knelt behind me to watch his come drip out of me. He had just finished taking me roughly from behind and I was shaky on my hands and knees. Once He saw what he wanted - the physical evidence of his ownership - he let me collapse on the bed. After a few minutes, after I caught my breath, I asked to get up to go to the bathroom to clean up.
"Is there more?," He asked.
"Um...," I stalled, knowing that he can't get enough of the sight of his come dripping out of me.
"Get up on your knees," He said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.
My legs shook as I knelt next to him on the bed. I steadied myself against the wall with one hand. He knocked my knees apart and held his cupped hand under my cunt.
"Push," He said with an evil glint in his eyes. I covered my eyes with my free hand, but I obeyed. After a moment, I looked down to see his hand covered in my wetness and his. He held his hand up to my face and I looked at him warily.
"Lick, now," He whispered. I bent my head down, eyes tightly squeezed shut, and lapped at his palm. I could taste both of us on his hand. He made me clean up every drop.
I never did make it to the bathroom and I didn't get to rest my shaking body. I think my humiliation turned him on so much that he had to have me again, right away. As I sucked his cock, I could still feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"Is there more?," He asked.
"Um...," I stalled, knowing that he can't get enough of the sight of his come dripping out of me.
"Get up on your knees," He said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.
My legs shook as I knelt next to him on the bed. I steadied myself against the wall with one hand. He knocked my knees apart and held his cupped hand under my cunt.
"Push," He said with an evil glint in his eyes. I covered my eyes with my free hand, but I obeyed. After a moment, I looked down to see his hand covered in my wetness and his. He held his hand up to my face and I looked at him warily.
"Lick, now," He whispered. I bent my head down, eyes tightly squeezed shut, and lapped at his palm. I could taste both of us on his hand. He made me clean up every drop.
I never did make it to the bathroom and I didn't get to rest my shaking body. I think my humiliation turned him on so much that he had to have me again, right away. As I sucked his cock, I could still feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Joy
He started in on me before I was even fully awake. He was hard and alert, even as I was groggy and cuddly, and he started putting me through my paces. I dragged through the first part of our early-morning activities. Maybe I didn't suck his cock as enthusiastically as he would have liked? Or maybe I was too busy wiping the sleep from my eyes to come on command?
He flung me over the side of the bed and fucked me hard from behind, taunting my reflection in the mirror. I buried my head in the sheets and tried to find my focus. I didn't want him to make me cry, not when I was already feeling so out of sorts. But the tears came quickly when he told me that all of my neighbors would know what a slut I am from the moaning that was coming from the apartment. I was ashamed and I didn't know what to do.
After a time, I slid to the floor to kneel at his feet. I looked up at him, looking for something, looking for a connection. He smoothed back my hair and smiled down at me. "You're such a good girl for me this morning, such a good little girl," he cooed.
I nuzzled his knee and smiled. He was proud of me. I felt instantly joyous and purposeful and centered. I was doing a good job. I was pleasing him.
When I sucked his cock again, I was more than enthusiastic and was rewarded for all of my hard work.
He flung me over the side of the bed and fucked me hard from behind, taunting my reflection in the mirror. I buried my head in the sheets and tried to find my focus. I didn't want him to make me cry, not when I was already feeling so out of sorts. But the tears came quickly when he told me that all of my neighbors would know what a slut I am from the moaning that was coming from the apartment. I was ashamed and I didn't know what to do.
After a time, I slid to the floor to kneel at his feet. I looked up at him, looking for something, looking for a connection. He smoothed back my hair and smiled down at me. "You're such a good girl for me this morning, such a good little girl," he cooed.
I nuzzled his knee and smiled. He was proud of me. I felt instantly joyous and purposeful and centered. I was doing a good job. I was pleasing him.
When I sucked his cock again, I was more than enthusiastic and was rewarded for all of my hard work.
Mine
I was kneeling before Him in the living room, working his cock slowly in my mouth. I was focusing very intently on him and only him, his pleasure, his little moans. As I serviced him, he started pulling on my hair and pushing my face down onto his cock more roughly. He was getting more excited and his mean streak was coming out. I could see it behind his eyes.
"You had better keep that up because you're going to work on my cock all night."
I looked up at him through my hair with a surprised look in my eyes.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll feed you dinner. But after that, you're going to be right back on your knees. You think you eat for free around here? You have to find a way to earn your keep, you know."
I looked down, ashamed. His words echoed in my ears: "earn your keep." I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind and focus on the task at hand, but he was not done.
"You are such a little whore. Look how much you love doing that." I continued, sure that if I showed how his words affected me, he would only taunt me further. He pulled me up on his lap and had me fuck him. He didn't seem to care if I came. He was using my body for his pleasure only.
He pulled me close and tugged on the hair at the nape of my neck. He growled in my ear: "I knew what a kind of girl you were from the moment I saw you."
Foolishly, I asked, "What kind of girl am I?" I don't know why I asked this. I knew what kind of mood he was in. I knew what he would say. But there was a part of me that wondered what kind of girl I was then and what kind of girl I have become, and whether I could bear to see how he saw me. Whether I could bear the changes.
"A dirty girl. I knew you were a dirty little girl from the moment I met you." I shook my head, tried to deny it. "I knew you would let me fuck you as soon as I wanted. I knew you would let me do all of these things to you."
"No...," I protested weakly. He just held me tight to him as he bounced me up and down on his cock, faster and faster. He was hurting my neck with the force he was using to pull my hair.
Right before he came, he hissed in my ear: "I know I would own you and that I'd make you my whore. I always knew."
"You had better keep that up because you're going to work on my cock all night."
I looked up at him through my hair with a surprised look in my eyes.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll feed you dinner. But after that, you're going to be right back on your knees. You think you eat for free around here? You have to find a way to earn your keep, you know."
I looked down, ashamed. His words echoed in my ears: "earn your keep." I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind and focus on the task at hand, but he was not done.
"You are such a little whore. Look how much you love doing that." I continued, sure that if I showed how his words affected me, he would only taunt me further. He pulled me up on his lap and had me fuck him. He didn't seem to care if I came. He was using my body for his pleasure only.
He pulled me close and tugged on the hair at the nape of my neck. He growled in my ear: "I knew what a kind of girl you were from the moment I saw you."
Foolishly, I asked, "What kind of girl am I?" I don't know why I asked this. I knew what kind of mood he was in. I knew what he would say. But there was a part of me that wondered what kind of girl I was then and what kind of girl I have become, and whether I could bear to see how he saw me. Whether I could bear the changes.
"A dirty girl. I knew you were a dirty little girl from the moment I met you." I shook my head, tried to deny it. "I knew you would let me fuck you as soon as I wanted. I knew you would let me do all of these things to you."
"No...," I protested weakly. He just held me tight to him as he bounced me up and down on his cock, faster and faster. He was hurting my neck with the force he was using to pull my hair.
Right before he came, he hissed in my ear: "I know I would own you and that I'd make you my whore. I always knew."
Unspeakable
I don't want to write about this, I really don't. I want to keep this as honest a place for my experiences as possible and I want to chart all of my discoveries, but not this. Please, not this.
I don't think that I can type about crouching in the shower without squinting and balling my fists. I can't make out the words to describe the warmth and the wetness all over my body without some sharp intake of breath. I still cannot grasp the shear amount of Him all over me, how it kept coming and I kept turning my head to avoid it and now I cannot talk about it.
I can't find the words for this particular type of humiliation, one that wasn't humiliating, exactly. It felt reverent to let him do that to me. I knelt before him and opened myself up to him completely. I felt small and like such a good girl for him. I didn't hate it, even though the thought of it makes my skin crawl in a way.
It made me wet and I don't know what to do about that. So please, don't make me talk about that unspeakable thing that He did because he loves me.
I don't think that I can type about crouching in the shower without squinting and balling my fists. I can't make out the words to describe the warmth and the wetness all over my body without some sharp intake of breath. I still cannot grasp the shear amount of Him all over me, how it kept coming and I kept turning my head to avoid it and now I cannot talk about it.
I can't find the words for this particular type of humiliation, one that wasn't humiliating, exactly. It felt reverent to let him do that to me. I knelt before him and opened myself up to him completely. I felt small and like such a good girl for him. I didn't hate it, even though the thought of it makes my skin crawl in a way.
It made me wet and I don't know what to do about that. So please, don't make me talk about that unspeakable thing that He did because he loves me.
Your Darkest Fantasy Realized
I shared a fantasy with him - one of my most common, go-to masturbatory fantasies. I hadn't told him about it because it seemed like it was too much of a whole host of things. Too much humiliation, too much degradation, too much objectification, too much slutty, reprehensible behavior. It also had too many people in it...too many male people who used me while he held me down. I was immediately ashamed that I had told him.
I was even more taken aback when the fantasy failed to elicit any sort of shocked response from him. He didn't seem surprised or anything. He just rolled with it and started talking about finding a way to fulfill that fantasy for me. He wanted to see it, he wanted to be there to hold me down while it happened.
Even worse, he wanted to keep talking about it, using it as fodder for his own fantasies and contemplating what we'd do in the future. I just wanted to hide away. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even want to think about it. I basically shut down in response.
I stopped masturbating because I couldn't think about this fantasy, and if I couldn't think about this fantasy, I couldn't come. And when he tried to touch me last week, I pulled away. I could barely look him in the eye. Because how could he look me in the eye after I acted out that fantasy? Wouldn't I be just a piece of ruined trash, worse than the slut that I already am for him?
He noticed that I was unusually unresponsive, so he pressed me a bit. I finally admitted that I was ashamed at what I had told him about my fantasy. He reassured me that the reason he wanted to see that, the reason he was so enthusiastic about it for both of us, was that he wanted me to feel free enough to explore that darkest fantasy with him. Obviously, the alluring part of the fantasy was the acknowledgment of how wrong it all felt, that no good girl would do that willingly, that only the most depraved, dirty girl would even consider that. He wanted me to probe those feelings and embrace that dirty girl inside of me. He wanted me to be completely free.
There was this adorable twinkle in his eye as he told me that he'd have no problem looking at me after. He was leaning closer and I could see how aroused he was. When he pulled me to him, I didn't resist. I leaned into him and touched my tongue to his.
As I rode him, he called me his dirty little whore. It was making me wetter and wetter. He could feel it - his head was thrown back and he told me not to stop fucking him, that it felt so good.
"Don't stop?," I asked coyly. "You don't want me to stop?" I pulled off of him for a moment, just long enough to see this wild look in his eyes, and then lowered myself back onto his cock. He moaned loudly in appreciation.
Then - I don't know what got into me - I leaned down to his ear and whispered, "Beg me not to stop...beg."
He moaned again and begged with desperation in his voice. I pinned his wrists to the bed above his head and he begged harder. I fucked him harder, staring down at him and the surprised look in his eyes.
"Oh, fuck, Kitten," he moaned, "you are so hot, oh my god." I couldn't believe what I was doing. All I knew was that this energy between us, this spark, was too strong to ignore. I was his whore at that moment, doing exactly what he wanted to please him.
I reached back to caress his balls as I continued to ride him, and my hand trailed up against my own ass. My fingers found my asshole and an idea came to me. "Can I?," I asked him.
"Oh Kitten, yes, please, yes," he moaned and I slid my finger into my ass. I felt myself coming immediately and I was gushing all over his cock. I rubbed my clit with my other hand and sent myself over the edge. I could feel his cock throbbing in my pussy as my asshole clenched around my finger and my clit pulsed under my other hand. I screamed out with him and we came together.
After, I laid next to him, wondering where all that had come from. "Kitten, how did feel?," he asked.
I thought a moment and then took a deep breath. "Free," I said, realizing the lesson that I had learned.
"Yes, exactly. That's the feeling that I want to see on your face when we explore your fantasy. I want you to feel free to do anything for me." He touched my face and I turned to nuzzle his hand. "Good girl."
I was even more taken aback when the fantasy failed to elicit any sort of shocked response from him. He didn't seem surprised or anything. He just rolled with it and started talking about finding a way to fulfill that fantasy for me. He wanted to see it, he wanted to be there to hold me down while it happened.
Even worse, he wanted to keep talking about it, using it as fodder for his own fantasies and contemplating what we'd do in the future. I just wanted to hide away. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even want to think about it. I basically shut down in response.
I stopped masturbating because I couldn't think about this fantasy, and if I couldn't think about this fantasy, I couldn't come. And when he tried to touch me last week, I pulled away. I could barely look him in the eye. Because how could he look me in the eye after I acted out that fantasy? Wouldn't I be just a piece of ruined trash, worse than the slut that I already am for him?
He noticed that I was unusually unresponsive, so he pressed me a bit. I finally admitted that I was ashamed at what I had told him about my fantasy. He reassured me that the reason he wanted to see that, the reason he was so enthusiastic about it for both of us, was that he wanted me to feel free enough to explore that darkest fantasy with him. Obviously, the alluring part of the fantasy was the acknowledgment of how wrong it all felt, that no good girl would do that willingly, that only the most depraved, dirty girl would even consider that. He wanted me to probe those feelings and embrace that dirty girl inside of me. He wanted me to be completely free.
There was this adorable twinkle in his eye as he told me that he'd have no problem looking at me after. He was leaning closer and I could see how aroused he was. When he pulled me to him, I didn't resist. I leaned into him and touched my tongue to his.
As I rode him, he called me his dirty little whore. It was making me wetter and wetter. He could feel it - his head was thrown back and he told me not to stop fucking him, that it felt so good.
"Don't stop?," I asked coyly. "You don't want me to stop?" I pulled off of him for a moment, just long enough to see this wild look in his eyes, and then lowered myself back onto his cock. He moaned loudly in appreciation.
Then - I don't know what got into me - I leaned down to his ear and whispered, "Beg me not to stop...beg."
He moaned again and begged with desperation in his voice. I pinned his wrists to the bed above his head and he begged harder. I fucked him harder, staring down at him and the surprised look in his eyes.
"Oh, fuck, Kitten," he moaned, "you are so hot, oh my god." I couldn't believe what I was doing. All I knew was that this energy between us, this spark, was too strong to ignore. I was his whore at that moment, doing exactly what he wanted to please him.
I reached back to caress his balls as I continued to ride him, and my hand trailed up against my own ass. My fingers found my asshole and an idea came to me. "Can I?," I asked him.
"Oh Kitten, yes, please, yes," he moaned and I slid my finger into my ass. I felt myself coming immediately and I was gushing all over his cock. I rubbed my clit with my other hand and sent myself over the edge. I could feel his cock throbbing in my pussy as my asshole clenched around my finger and my clit pulsed under my other hand. I screamed out with him and we came together.
After, I laid next to him, wondering where all that had come from. "Kitten, how did feel?," he asked.
I thought a moment and then took a deep breath. "Free," I said, realizing the lesson that I had learned.
"Yes, exactly. That's the feeling that I want to see on your face when we explore your fantasy. I want you to feel free to do anything for me." He touched my face and I turned to nuzzle his hand. "Good girl."
Nothing But The Rain
We stood in the driveway, looking at a scratch on my new car. It was about 11pm and the canopy of trees over the driveway kept out any light from the street. After a pause, He pushed me up against the back of his truck. He kissed me, pressing his body against mine. His hands roamed over my breasts and up under my shirt. He pulled my bra up over my breasts and pinched my nipples. He twisted and pinched harder, looking at my face for a reaction.
When I could not hold back any longer, I cried out quietly and closed my eyes. I didn't want to draw attention to what he was doing. As he held my nipples and continued to pinch, the sharp pain dulled to an ache and I was able to open my eyes. I looked at him calmly until he twisted harder.
Finally, he let me go and I moved to go inside the house, but he had something else in mind. He caught me by the neck and slammed me back against the truck. I stared at him, eyes wide with shock. He reached down and unzipped my jeans. I whined slightly and murmured "no" into his ear. I didn't want to be exposed.
He stood back and smiled that cruel smile that I know so well. "Pull down your pants." I paused. He snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Down. Now. Your panties too." I reluctantly pulled them down to my mid-thighs and looked around. There were no cars coming and none of the neighbors were out. But if a car came around the corner...
"All the way, Kitten," he growled and he pulled my pants all the way to my ankles. He pushed me back against the truck and felt between my legs. My pussy was wet already and he quickly brought me to orgasm with his fingers. I clung to him, burying my face in his shoulder in case anyone was watching, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
He pulled away and put his hand on the back of my neck. "Come with me," he cooed, "leave your pants down." I shuffled after him, quickly realizing that he was leading me to the end of the driveway, away from shelter of the trees. He led me right to the edge of the street and stepped away from me. I looked around at him, panicked. I barely noticed when the wind started whipping up and thunder started rolling in the background.
"Daddy, please...," I trailed off. He had walked back up the driveway. I could still hear his footsteps, but I couldn't see him anymore.
"Stay where you are, Kitten," he called out from behind me. I closed my eyes and waited for him, flinching at every car engine and door-slam that I heard.
Finally, I felt his hands on my ass. He leaned down and pulled my pants back up and fastened them as lightning started to flash all around us. He pulled me close to him and breathed in my hair. "Such a good girl," he sighed as he looked down at me. I smiled at him despite myself. The lightning lit up his face. God, His eyes looked so beautiful. How did he ever find me?
We were laughing and hugging as the thunder grew louder. The wind tossed my hair and blew all around us. Quietly, rain began to fall - lightly at first then building to a driving rain. We stood there, drenched and staring into each others' eyes, smiling like two silly kids in love.
"Let's get you inside, Kitten," he said as he hugged me tight one last time. He took my hand and we ran inside, our feet splashing in puddles all the way.
When I could not hold back any longer, I cried out quietly and closed my eyes. I didn't want to draw attention to what he was doing. As he held my nipples and continued to pinch, the sharp pain dulled to an ache and I was able to open my eyes. I looked at him calmly until he twisted harder.
Finally, he let me go and I moved to go inside the house, but he had something else in mind. He caught me by the neck and slammed me back against the truck. I stared at him, eyes wide with shock. He reached down and unzipped my jeans. I whined slightly and murmured "no" into his ear. I didn't want to be exposed.
He stood back and smiled that cruel smile that I know so well. "Pull down your pants." I paused. He snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Down. Now. Your panties too." I reluctantly pulled them down to my mid-thighs and looked around. There were no cars coming and none of the neighbors were out. But if a car came around the corner...
"All the way, Kitten," he growled and he pulled my pants all the way to my ankles. He pushed me back against the truck and felt between my legs. My pussy was wet already and he quickly brought me to orgasm with his fingers. I clung to him, burying my face in his shoulder in case anyone was watching, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
He pulled away and put his hand on the back of my neck. "Come with me," he cooed, "leave your pants down." I shuffled after him, quickly realizing that he was leading me to the end of the driveway, away from shelter of the trees. He led me right to the edge of the street and stepped away from me. I looked around at him, panicked. I barely noticed when the wind started whipping up and thunder started rolling in the background.
"Daddy, please...," I trailed off. He had walked back up the driveway. I could still hear his footsteps, but I couldn't see him anymore.
"Stay where you are, Kitten," he called out from behind me. I closed my eyes and waited for him, flinching at every car engine and door-slam that I heard.
Finally, I felt his hands on my ass. He leaned down and pulled my pants back up and fastened them as lightning started to flash all around us. He pulled me close to him and breathed in my hair. "Such a good girl," he sighed as he looked down at me. I smiled at him despite myself. The lightning lit up his face. God, His eyes looked so beautiful. How did he ever find me?
We were laughing and hugging as the thunder grew louder. The wind tossed my hair and blew all around us. Quietly, rain began to fall - lightly at first then building to a driving rain. We stood there, drenched and staring into each others' eyes, smiling like two silly kids in love.
"Let's get you inside, Kitten," he said as he hugged me tight one last time. He took my hand and we ran inside, our feet splashing in puddles all the way.
What He Took
He was stroking my hair as I laid next to him. My breathing had just returned to normal after what I had told him. I felt a bit hollowed out, although I didn't know what was yet to come. I didn't know just how empty I would become.
I felt him lift his head off of the pillow and I did the same in response. I looked at him with a silent question in my eyes. "Go get it," he whispered. I frowned and paused, hesitant to get up. "Go now," he said more loudly and with a smack to my ass for emphasis. I pouted but soon scooted off to the other room.
When I came back into the room, my hands were behind my back. "What do you have there?," he asked quietly. He kept using this creepy, soft voice that was probably meant to lull me into a sense of calm but instead made me even more apprehensive.
"A bottle," I mumbled.
"A bottle of what?," he led.
"A bottle of stuff," I sassed, giggling at my pathetic attempt at avoidance.
He grabbed the front of my bra and pulled me to the ground in front of him. "This isn't a joke, little girl. Tell me what you're holding."
I looked at the ground. "An enema, sir."
"That's right. And where am I going to put it?"
"In my ass," I mumbled.
He put me over his knee, but not before he offered me my favorite stuffed animal to hold. I cried into the plush fur of the animal as he put me into position, overwhelmed by my littleness and the humiliation of what he was about to do to me. He held me close to him as he squeezed the liquid into me. His palm was resting on my back and he massaged me in slow circles.
I wanted to leave right away. I wanted to keep my head low and to flee the room immediately. But he was watching the clock and he made me stay. He held me firmly in place, no matter how much I whined or pleaded. I found it easier to bear the wait if I stayed still and breathed slowly. He smoothed down my hair and rubbed my back as he held me down. I sniffled a little bit from time to time, but the sudden crying that came from that place of disbelief of what he was about to do had passed.
I waited forever. His voice was so kind as he told me that I had to wait just a little longer, that no, it was not time to go yet. He said these things as if they were out of his control, as if there was no helping how long he was making me wait. And I believed him.
I know now that he did not have to make me wait a proscribed period of time and that he was delaying just because he could. I know rationally in my mind now that my discomfort was his pleasure and this was all about trust and my training. But at that moment? I felt like a little child, railing against the unfair imposition of a harsh rule. The strange thing was that, again in that moment, I identified with him. He was on my side. He didn't want to make me wait; he just had to.
And even stranger, the whole thing started to feel a little hot. His hand on my back and his soothing voice, the anticipation and the slight flush at my cheeks. This was complete and total control over my body. I didn't have anything left that he didn't control now. This was ownership and domination, the most invasive kind. Every part of me belonged to him and he could dictate my every inner working. There was no part of me that didn't belong to him.
He let me go and I rushed off with a sense of relief. While I was gone, I wondered what he must think of me now. What could he possibly think now that I let him do this to me?
When I walked back into the bedroom, he looked at me with a serious expression on his face. "Now there's nothing between us, Kitten." After what I had told him just before, this felt like so much, all at one time. I was exposed to him like never before. I laid down next to him, touching his face with my fingertips. He pulled me to him and I swear we melted together. We were the same person. There was nothing between us, no secrets, nothing we didn't share. Everything about me is a part of him. I closed my eyes and cuddled closer.
I felt him lift his head off of the pillow and I did the same in response. I looked at him with a silent question in my eyes. "Go get it," he whispered. I frowned and paused, hesitant to get up. "Go now," he said more loudly and with a smack to my ass for emphasis. I pouted but soon scooted off to the other room.
When I came back into the room, my hands were behind my back. "What do you have there?," he asked quietly. He kept using this creepy, soft voice that was probably meant to lull me into a sense of calm but instead made me even more apprehensive.
"A bottle," I mumbled.
"A bottle of what?," he led.
"A bottle of stuff," I sassed, giggling at my pathetic attempt at avoidance.
He grabbed the front of my bra and pulled me to the ground in front of him. "This isn't a joke, little girl. Tell me what you're holding."
I looked at the ground. "An enema, sir."
"That's right. And where am I going to put it?"
"In my ass," I mumbled.
He put me over his knee, but not before he offered me my favorite stuffed animal to hold. I cried into the plush fur of the animal as he put me into position, overwhelmed by my littleness and the humiliation of what he was about to do to me. He held me close to him as he squeezed the liquid into me. His palm was resting on my back and he massaged me in slow circles.
I wanted to leave right away. I wanted to keep my head low and to flee the room immediately. But he was watching the clock and he made me stay. He held me firmly in place, no matter how much I whined or pleaded. I found it easier to bear the wait if I stayed still and breathed slowly. He smoothed down my hair and rubbed my back as he held me down. I sniffled a little bit from time to time, but the sudden crying that came from that place of disbelief of what he was about to do had passed.
I waited forever. His voice was so kind as he told me that I had to wait just a little longer, that no, it was not time to go yet. He said these things as if they were out of his control, as if there was no helping how long he was making me wait. And I believed him.
I know now that he did not have to make me wait a proscribed period of time and that he was delaying just because he could. I know rationally in my mind now that my discomfort was his pleasure and this was all about trust and my training. But at that moment? I felt like a little child, railing against the unfair imposition of a harsh rule. The strange thing was that, again in that moment, I identified with him. He was on my side. He didn't want to make me wait; he just had to.
And even stranger, the whole thing started to feel a little hot. His hand on my back and his soothing voice, the anticipation and the slight flush at my cheeks. This was complete and total control over my body. I didn't have anything left that he didn't control now. This was ownership and domination, the most invasive kind. Every part of me belonged to him and he could dictate my every inner working. There was no part of me that didn't belong to him.
He let me go and I rushed off with a sense of relief. While I was gone, I wondered what he must think of me now. What could he possibly think now that I let him do this to me?
When I walked back into the bedroom, he looked at me with a serious expression on his face. "Now there's nothing between us, Kitten." After what I had told him just before, this felt like so much, all at one time. I was exposed to him like never before. I laid down next to him, touching his face with my fingertips. He pulled me to him and I swear we melted together. We were the same person. There was nothing between us, no secrets, nothing we didn't share. Everything about me is a part of him. I closed my eyes and cuddled closer.
Three Scenes
How did He and I spend our Saturday? Which of these scenes describes what we did that day?
1.
He holds me tenderly, looking down on me with emotion in his eyes. He enters me slowly and starts fucking me deeply. "Can you feel that?," he whispers and I nod, sure that I am going to cry at the intensity of the moment. He is talking about the palpable connection between us, the chemistry and beauty of our embrace.
He fucks me faster, thrusting deeper. I grip his shoulders as he leans down to kiss me. He nibbles on my lip and a moan escapes from my mouth. I hold onto him for dear life as he comes inside me. "I love you," he says as he throws back his head in climax. I come with him.
2.
He pushes me up against the wall, pulling my shirt and bra up over my breasts before he pulls my pants down around my ankles. I am not wearing panties. He pushes me down to my knees with my back against the wall and starts fucking my face. He bangs my head against the wall with the thrust of his cock in my mouth.
He picks me up and tosses me over the padded arm of the couch, winding his hand in my hair and snapping my head back in one quick movement. He enters me roughly and starts fucking me hard, pressing me down into the couch. "You filthy little slut, look at yourself," he taunts me. When I whimper, he snaps, "Shut up, slut. What's your job?" I mumble and he shouts for me to speak up. I tell him: "To stay still and shut the fuck up."
He puts me down on my hands and knees on the floor. My pants are still around my ankles. He makes me crawl to the bedroom. When I struggle, he laughs cruelly and pulls me along by the hair even faster.
3.
I slide his hand along my thigh, enjoying the warmth of his hand under my dress. I look up at him with wide eyes and hear him groan with lust. "Kitten...," he moans as I bite my lip and look away. He cups my chin in his hand and turns my face back so he can look me in the eyes again. I lean in to kiss him deeply, touching my tongue to his.
I climb on top of him and gently lower myself down onto his already-hard cock. I start to ride him, looking down at him through the hair that has fallen in my face. I take my dress off over my head, giving him a full view of my naked body. His hands immediately go to my breasts. I feel like his whore, focusing on his pleasure, my body for his enjoyment.
I ride him harder and look down at the blissful look on his face. "You are such a good girl, Kitten, you are such a good girl," he repeats over and over as his breathing quickens. Suddenly, I am coming hard, grinding on his lap and gasping for air. Before I can even catch my breath, he grabs my hips and starts coming too, shouting my name.
So dear readers: which one is us?
1.
He holds me tenderly, looking down on me with emotion in his eyes. He enters me slowly and starts fucking me deeply. "Can you feel that?," he whispers and I nod, sure that I am going to cry at the intensity of the moment. He is talking about the palpable connection between us, the chemistry and beauty of our embrace.
He fucks me faster, thrusting deeper. I grip his shoulders as he leans down to kiss me. He nibbles on my lip and a moan escapes from my mouth. I hold onto him for dear life as he comes inside me. "I love you," he says as he throws back his head in climax. I come with him.
2.
He pushes me up against the wall, pulling my shirt and bra up over my breasts before he pulls my pants down around my ankles. I am not wearing panties. He pushes me down to my knees with my back against the wall and starts fucking my face. He bangs my head against the wall with the thrust of his cock in my mouth.
He picks me up and tosses me over the padded arm of the couch, winding his hand in my hair and snapping my head back in one quick movement. He enters me roughly and starts fucking me hard, pressing me down into the couch. "You filthy little slut, look at yourself," he taunts me. When I whimper, he snaps, "Shut up, slut. What's your job?" I mumble and he shouts for me to speak up. I tell him: "To stay still and shut the fuck up."
He puts me down on my hands and knees on the floor. My pants are still around my ankles. He makes me crawl to the bedroom. When I struggle, he laughs cruelly and pulls me along by the hair even faster.
3.
I slide his hand along my thigh, enjoying the warmth of his hand under my dress. I look up at him with wide eyes and hear him groan with lust. "Kitten...," he moans as I bite my lip and look away. He cups my chin in his hand and turns my face back so he can look me in the eyes again. I lean in to kiss him deeply, touching my tongue to his.
I climb on top of him and gently lower myself down onto his already-hard cock. I start to ride him, looking down at him through the hair that has fallen in my face. I take my dress off over my head, giving him a full view of my naked body. His hands immediately go to my breasts. I feel like his whore, focusing on his pleasure, my body for his enjoyment.
I ride him harder and look down at the blissful look on his face. "You are such a good girl, Kitten, you are such a good girl," he repeats over and over as his breathing quickens. Suddenly, I am coming hard, grinding on his lap and gasping for air. Before I can even catch my breath, he grabs my hips and starts coming too, shouting my name.
So dear readers: which one is us?
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