You stand and stare at me, I can’t take my eyes off you. Up on your desk, ass in the air, cheek pressed against the edge. You’ve lashed my wrists to my ankles with cord, my knees folded beneath me, breast smashed into the cold wood. You stand and stare. Thinking. Deciding. Smirking.
Your fingers skim over my face, then across my shoulder and down my back. I sigh and tremble as they reach my bottom. I wish for a moment that I could climb inside your mind, but then, those lovely fingers dip between my thighs, sliding over my swollen, sensitive folds. I lose my thoughts, almost completely.
You pull away too quickly, and I whimper at the loss. “Shhh, kitten,” you breathe, suddenly right next to my ear. I feel your breath on my neck and your beard on my shoulder, and I have to force myself to be still, despite the tremors that run down my spine.
“My Pet, you look so lovely like this, I may have to leave you here as decoration. But first, I should color that beautiful derrière.” Sliding a long, acrylic ruler out of your desk, you skim the edge over my skin. I almost beg for you to use your hand, but stop myself, because I don’t care what you use. Just hit me.
The first crack of the plastic on my flesh barely hurts, but as you situate yourself and begin layering the strikes, the warmth and sting grows so that I’m flinching with each blow. It’s still not quite pain, it is incredible. My breathing is erratic but I haven’t made a sound, so you lean down, brushing your fingers over my lips forcing my tongue to peak out to taste them.
You smile at my desperation, “My pet, you are a dripping mess. I’m tempted to clean you up with MY tongue!” I convulse, but close my mouth to keep myself from begging you, knowing that would never work. You chuckle and let your hands glide down my back again.
Setting the ruler aside, you let your palms wander, over my skin, making every nerve ending in my body stand at attention. One hand reaches beneath my belly to stroke upward, between my breasts, as I try to rise slightly so that I may feel your fingers on my nipples. But your other hand keeps me pressed against the table as I quiver and clench, desperate for your attention in places you are vehemently ignoring.
The tease is the part I hate to love and love to hate. It kills me and makes me want, even more, to plead with you, to lick me, touch me, suck me, and fuck me. But you told your kitten to be quiet, so I must.
Instead, I pant and writhe. I try to will you with my mind. I think about being inside of yours and controlling your actions. Alas, I’m not that powerful.
By the time your hands reach my backside again, I’m arching and whimpering, no longer able to keep myself from making those little noises you appreciate so much. I hear your rumble, as your fingers finally slip between my legs again, and you feel the incredible wetness you always pull from me. Suddenly, your tongue replaces your fingers, and I feel that I’m already perched on the edge of delirium.
“Yessss,” I hiss, and am rewarding with the vibration of your growl against my clit. You are lapping away at me like a puppy licking a steak, and I realize I may not be able to hold back, when you slide a finger up through my juices and into my ass. “Oh, God, Sir, Please! May I cum please, Sir, please!”
“Not yet, sweet girl, not yet,” you whisper, before your tongue slips back down to tease my throbbing clit. I whine and work my hips, tightening my muscles to keep the waves inside. They threaten to explode, but whatever thin force field I am able to contain them in works. You slow your assault, sensing my determination to obey you, but then bite my ass and it’s almost too much.
“Please…..” I breathe, arching up, trying to pull away, but this only earns me a smack followed by three fingers thrusting into me wildly.
Your fingers work at me until I feel another slide into my ass and I cry out at the pain of the added fullness. “I can’t stop it…. I can’t stop it, Sir…”
I push my body past its breaking point, trying, and failing, to prevent my climax from leaking out of me like water bubbling through a clogged water fountain. “Don’t do it,” you roar, but that only acts as a catalyst. My soft climax suddenly bursts open into a gushing, rocketing explosion. I scream, as it tears through me, and groan as it washes over me, raining aftershocks throughout my system like sparks from some massive electrical fire.
Suddenly, you are on the desk with me, stretching me open with your amazing cock, and hammering away at me like an enraged beast. “More, bitch, or I’ll rip them out of you while you scream and beg me to stop!” You sound like an animal, and my body simply does what it’s told.
As you ram away at my cervix, like you’re trying to drill into my womb, I begin to convulse again, the walls of my sweet, hot cunt gripping you to the point you cry out and pull away. You flip me, painfully, onto my back, my limbs still tied and my body still jolting from my last orgasm.
You lift my ass and position your huge cock at my puckered, second opening, smiling at me as you start to push inside. It’s more than I’m prepared for, the pain is unbelievable, and I beg you to stop. Pressing your thumb into my slit, you begin working me back up, while the head of your dick rests just inside my ass. I bear down against you, relaxing and opening, and you begin pushing further inside.
“Fuck, please Sir, I can’t…”
“You can, and you will, my pet. You must.”
I look into your eyes, and find the determination that you always somehow feed me, in your control, command, and Dominance. I breathe and relax. You stroke my clit until I’m spinning, once again, and press into me. I’m gasping, but pushing the pain away, concentrating on the pleasure and on pleasing you. Letting you fill me in this way I’ve never truly imagined.
You groan as you force your way in and the look on your face nearly sends me to the moon. “Yes, Sir, Please… More!” You look down at me and work my pussy with both hands until I’m screaming and cumming again.
If I weren’t tied, I may have floated to the ceiling, but it is mere moments before the pain returns as you begin fucking my tight ass. Your fingers continue running over my clit until you are lost in the onslaught of your own orgasm. You cum so hard and so much, I think I can actually feel it leaking out, around you.
As you stop, you look down at me, breathless, and I desperately wish you would kiss me. But before you do, the beast inside of you growls, “One more, slut.”
You slide out of my ass and ram three fingers deep into my pussy, pushing against my G spot while your other hand concentrates on my abused, little button. My body is like your instrument, and just as I think I’m going to pop, your hand leaves my clit and wraps tightly around my throat. “Cum for me, and I’ll let you breathe again, Pet.”
Gasping and writhing, I realize how much I’ve wanted this for so long. The orgasm that rocks me seems to actually start in my throat, and as my pussy clenches your fingers and you release me, the flood of oxygen only serves to magnify the results. I’m shaking so hard, you wrap your fingers around my neck again, not cutting off my air this time, but holding me steady, and I ride two minutes of pure bliss.
When you finally release me, and begin untying the cords, I want your lips on mine so badly, I lose all sense of restraint. “Please kiss me, Sir, pretty, pretty, please, with a fucking cherry on top!” You smile at me and chuckle, pulling loose the last knot and stretching me out before lying on top of me and capturing my face between your hands.
“My sweet, little mess.” Your lips hover over mine and I’m breathless, waiting for the contact. When you finally relent, our mouths mold together like some incredible, soft and languid puzzle. Your tongues dances around mine and I pull my arms and legs around you, surrounding you and filling you the only way I possibly can.
I feel myself slip into your mind, and I see myself there. As I’ve always been. Beautiful and serene, my skin glitters with light and magic. My hair flows around me like spun silk and butterfly wings. My eyes twinkle in all of their turquoise splendor. And I sit, softly stroking the beast, who I cannot see clearly. Taming him, …for the moment. “I’m the reason he exists. He will not harm me. But he will try. And you will love it.”
I stare at her. At myself. At you, and your beast. And as I slip back out of your mind, and you stare into my real eyes, I feel joy I’ve never known. “Please don’t ever stop trying,” I whisper. “I adore that dark, dangerous beast.”