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“Our arrangement was for you to act as a service submissive only.”
He sighs, when my eyes fall to the floor again. Scooting his stool close to mine, he takes my hand. His touch feels like home, and when I glance back up and see the torn look in His eyes, I cannot look away. “Can you tell me what you want?” He whispers, and pulls my hand to his lips. I whimper very quietly, wishing those lips were on mine and wondering what in the world to tell him.
“Do you want to keep our arrangement the way it is?” He questions, flipping my hand over and pressing his lips onto my wrist.
“No…” I exhale, willing him to continue.
“I need more than that, sweet girl. What do you want?” His mouth continues up my arm to the inside of my elbow, and when his tongue draws a circle on that sensitive area, I moan.
“Please, Sir… I think… I can’t… I don’t know,” my stammered whisper halts his advances.
“Do you want me to stop?” His voice burns through me, deep and heated.
“No, Sir,” I whisper, blushing.
He slides off his stool, and His lips glide up my arm to the edge of my cap sleeve work blouse. He glides his fingers over the fabric to the buttons, and slowly, precisely, releases each one from their tiny loops. “Is this what you want?” He breathes, inches from my lips.
“Uh-huh,” I mumble and lick my lips, beckoning Him to kiss me for the first time. Having wondered what it would be like for so long, but never giving myself the chance to find out.
He resists my pull, and glides the shirt open, slipping it over my shoulders and down my arms. He takes in the sight of my white lace encased breasts, sucking a breath in through his teeth, and when the blouse falls away, his hands hover over them as his eyes find mine again. “How about these, do you want me to touch these?”
“Oh, yes…” I hiss, and his hands drop, cupping and squeezing, before his fingers tug down the fabric and play with my hard nipples.
“These are quite nice, little one. What would you like me to do now?” He challenges me, pulling away completely, and folding His arms across His broad chest.
“Sir, I don’t know… Please…”
“Please what, sweet Chelsea, what is it you want me to do?”
“I really… I can’t…”
He takes pity on me for a moment and pulls me to stand. He slides a finger under my chin and drops His lips to mine, lightly brushing against my mouth until I try to deepen the kiss. As he pulls away again, I whine.
“Sir, I want you, please…” He stays completely still, staring into my eyes, waiting for me to finish. “I want more.”
He doesn’t contemplate what I mean, but simply crushes me with his kiss. His tongue dances in my mouth and his body molds into mine. His hands find my ass while his lips find my neck, and our groping only becomes more impatient as we continue. When he finally frees me of my skirt, his hand makes its way between my thighs and when he feels how wet I am, he groans in appreciation as he pushes a finger past my panties and into me.
I’m already deliriously on the edge, so I tell him again, “I want more.”
He pushes another finger inside, wriggling them inside of me while his thumb circles and presses my clit. I grind against him, and just before I’m about to explode, he pushes my legs apart with his feet, wraps his free hand around my neck and smacks my pussy, hard, three times. I cry out and he growls against my ear, “Do you still want more?”
My mind is spinning. It hurt, but felt SO good. I can’t truly comprehend my desire for this… punishment, but He obviously can and has for months. I suddenly realize he is holding me up by the throat, my legs are no longer supporting my weight. But He isn’t choking me, I’m not struggling, and when he growls again in my ear for an answer, I moan, “Yes,” without fully considering what that might mean.
He swats me five times, and I whimper more, wanting more of his control, more of his correction. That is what it has always been about. I did really want him all this time, but wouldn’t allow myself to acknowledge it. “Since we do not have a functioning agreement, you only have to tell me stop and I will, understand?” He whispers against my lips. “Yes, Sir… More… Please….”
He lifts me onto the island, folding my arms against the small of my back, and pushing me back to lie on them. Then he yanks off my panties, bends my knees and spreads them apart, so that I’m lying there open and exposed to him. He hammers my pussy with several more blows and then kneads my clit with his knuckles. My moans come from somewhere much deeper than my throat, and when I open my eyes to look at him, he is smiling, looking over me, and enjoying his control. I am on fire with pleasure, and the idea that this is also bringing Him intense pleasure makes the word slip from my tongue, yet again.
“More!” His smile turns to hot desire. He holds my pussy lips apart with one hand, and smacks my clit directly, with the other. The sharp sting is quickly dampened by the second, and the second by the third. The pain stops registering as my eyes close and all I feel is the pressure building inside of me. I can feel myself crying out, but I cannot hear it. And as the pain starts to return, I feel his fingers slip inside and his hands working me like an instrument. Out of nowhere, I hear him in my ear say, “I need you to come, sweet Chelsea. Come for your Sir!”
My body quivers and with one single little smack, he sends me flying up past the edge into the clouds. They crash against me, as I fall back to earth, and I realize after only a few moments that he’s building toward another. His fingers dance inside me and he dips his tongues into my folds, lapping up my silky wetness and moaning in delight. “You taste heavenly, little one,” he croons and blows on my clit, sending goose bumps over my belly.
He sucks my clit into his mouth and the combination of sensations pushes me further and further until I suddenly explode into a thousand pieces. My hips buck and writhe against his continued assault, “It’s too much, please….”
“No it’s not,” I hear him smile, and then feel it against my swollen clit. Massaging me with his tongue and fingers, simultaneously, inside and out, I am quickly driven back up into space, this time. “Relax, and bear down,” He whispers, and as I do, I feel the intensity for only a moment before I gush all over his beautiful face and crash through waves of fire and electricity, experiencing the most intense orgasm I’ve ever felt.
I feel like I’m floating and singing, but realize He is carrying me. As He walks across the dining room and living room, I realize He is taking me to His bed. I instantly remember Marie, which elicits thoughts of Rachel. How will this ever work?
My concern must be etched on my face, because he stops. “Have you changed your mind, sweet girl? Do you no longer want more?”
I exhale as He sets me on my feet. Is this what I want? To be His, but have to share Him with two other women who are clearly more beautiful, exotic, and experienced than me. You’ll lose Him completely if you don’t…
I search His face, wondering how it would even be possible. How would He be able to keep up, with a business and life to lead, two submissives must be difficult enough. Would I simply be the live in maid, who occasionally got fucked?
He wrapped His arms around me. He knew what I was thinking, and something in His eyes changed.
He filled His face with the command He uses with Rachel. “Stop thinking.” He realizes very quickly that Rachel’s Dom won’t get me. And before He even tries the mind-fuck he uses on Marie, He realizes that won’t do either.
I know now what I need. So I nod my head to Him and walk my naked ass into His room. I go into the bathroom, which is always messy, and start cleaning.
“What are doing, Chelsea?” The amused surprise is audible in His voice.
“Serving You, Master,” I smile.
…to be continued.