Category: D/s

Rag Doll

Doll by Smokemysoul via DeviantArt.com
Doll by Smokemysoul via DeviantArt.com

You told me to dress up, make myself look different. At first I thought Barbie Doll, but I could never be her. Of course, I am your Baby Doll, so a pretty, baby doll dress was a clear choice.

I sit at the table and wait, in my sweet little dress, with a satin sash and ribbons in my hair. I look very pretty, but not at all like a real baby doll.

My full, round breasts are barely contained by the pale blue fabric above the fuschia sash, and my legs are coated in white silk and capped in pink patent leather stilettos. My hair is barely restrained in twin braids that hang over each shoulder.

I’m already wet with anticipation, my thighs dampening above the lacy tops of my nylons due to my lack of panties.

I check my makeup in a spoon and nervously fidget with the napkin on my plate.

Then I feel the air change. That electricity that flows between us doesn’t need touch, it just snaps through the air like lightening.

I feel my nipples harden and swallow as you step behind me and lean down, gripping the braid over one shoulder so that you can whisper in the opposite ear.

“Hi, baby doll… You look good enough to eat!”

Oh your voice, when you speak with the power and command that bubbles from inside but that you only allow out in small doses… That thick, deep voice that melts over me and makes me want to rub you into my skin…

I could cum, just hearing your voice.

“I love your shoes, little girl. You like playing dress up?”

I turn as you stand and I smile up at you, I can feel color filling my cheeks. You chuckle down at me and extend your hand.

I take it, and rise, before you slowly turn me in order to take me completely in. I know what I look like and am pleased to find your sad eyes dancing with delight.

“My pretty girl…” you growl, pulling me against you, where I feel how much you like my attire, pressed hard and thick against my hip.

Your lips find my neck while your fingers pull at the cap sleeve of the dress to reveal my shoulder. You sink your teeth into that special spot that makes me convulse then back me against the wall behind me.

You step away and sit in the chair I just vacated, leaning back to look at me. “Touch yourself, sweet girl.”

I grin at you, devilishly before performing the masturbatory seduction I’ve imagined dozens of times. For you, my delicious Daddy.

I lift my fingers to my lips, coyly before letting them trail down my throat and collarbone. Dipping them into the strained fabric barely covering my breasts and pulling down slightly to expose one of my thick, pink points.

I pinch and twist it, gasping and closing my eyes, while my other hand snakes it’s way under my dress. I stroke my dripping lips, still hidden from you, beneath my skirt and moan softly, making you groan and rub your hard cock through your jeans.

I drop my other hand from my breast to lift the hem so you can see. You take in a sharp breath at the sight of my pretty fingers kneading my smooth pussy. As I push my fingers through my slit and into my quivering cunt, you groan again, making my knees weak.

“No panties, baby doll?” You whisper, as you kneel in front of me.

I shake my head, tossing my braids slightly as you grab my fingers and guide them into your mouth.

“Mmmmmm,” you rumble, sucking off my silkiness before guiding my hands to hold the hem of my dress at my hips. “Sugar and spice, sweet girl.”

I moan before you even touch me, your presence is like liquid heat. I steel my knees to hold me up and watch you stroke a single finger over my swollen clit, peeking from between my puffy lips.

Your touch nearly makes me explode. I hum when I feel your breath and watch you touch your lips to me. Your tongue presses flat while your finger slips inside. I’m shuddering and clenching immediately until you growl, softly, “If you cum before I give you permission, I’ll send you straight to bed.”

I whimper and force myself to settle, looking down into your pale eyes. My heart races as your tongue returns to my clit, circling softly, and you add another finger inside me. My whole body shakes with my restraint as I hold myself back from the edge of bliss.

I’m not sure how long I manage to fight the incredible pleasure pushing me to soar, but at some point I realize you are now standing, facing me, working me with your magic fingers and rumbling, low, from deep in your chest.

I open my eyes to find yours flashing, lips curled in a delicious grin and slick with my juices. “Such a sweet girl, do you want to cum?”

I nod, panting and very close to complete desperation when you lean in until our lips touch. “Cum,” you growl, increasing the intensity of your fingers.

I release my dress and cling to your shoulders, knowing my knees will not hold. You wrap your arm around my waist and kiss me while I come apart and freefall into the waves of orgasm. You wring me out thoroughly until I’m bucking and squirming to break free.

But still, you won’t relent. Your fingers are merciless and your tongue demands to dance with mine, stealing my breath, my will and my strength. You turn us both and release my waist, to slide the china off the end of the table to the floor. I gasp, as it shatters, but you only smile that beastly grin against my mouth before kissing me again.

You guide me onto the table and cover my body with yours, but your fingers continue their play inside me. I’m panting, each time you let me up for air, and grinding against you feverishly, tiptoeing the edge of oblivion yet again.

“Oh, please Sir, may I cum again?” I plead against your mouth and you nod before your tongue darts between my lips, once more. Your hunger ignites the blast within me and I convulse, yet again, muscles firing and liquid desire dripping between my thighs to the surface below. I don’t know if it was ejaculate, of if I’m just that wet, but you don’t quit.

“Please, fuck me Daddy, please!” I beg, in the midst of your kiss. You roll off of me to stand, staring down at me, and I can tell that I’m in trouble by the gleam in your eye.

“How many times have you cum, little girl?” Your voice is so low and gravelly, I almost can’t answer as your fingers continue their torment, teasing and light, at the moment.

“…I …Twice, Sir.” I breathe, panting and writhing against your hand, trying to get just a bit more.

Then you jam your fingers inside of me, spreading my thighs and palming my clit. My eyes roll back in my head until I hear you rumble, “Don’t stop it, just let them go… I want them all, baby.”

Your free hand finds my throat, and I climax again. You suck and bite my nipples and I have another. You hum, and growl and tell me what a good girl I am, and take one more.

You tear orgasms out of me as though it were your purpose in life. I can barely breathe and have no idea what has happened by the time you climb on top of me again, undressed, crushing me with your kiss, then pinching and twisting my nipples.

I open my eyes to see you pulling my legs up and staring down at me. You practically roar as you slide inside of me, and within moments, you are drilling into me like a wild animal. I’m too weak and senseless to brace myself, which you quickly realize and grasp my throat to hold me steady.

The mind blowing combination sends me up over the edge in mere moments, and as you continue fucking me with the might of some crazed beast, I can’t tell where one orgasm stops and another begins. I start gasping, which causes you to release my neck, and instead brace yourself by gripping my tits, tightly against my own chest, which still leaves me breathless, but with more pain.

You let go, and I think I have another orgasm. You wrap yourself around me, bucking your hips into me so hard, I think I just might break open, but I cum again, anyway. Flopping about as if there were no bones inside my limbs.

You pull back and I open my eyes to see you grinning down at me, “My beautiful rag doll…”

Your ownership of me is far more than is needed to send me into a million pieces, one last time. And this one grips you fiercely, milking your own climax free, and sending your seed in long, shaking pulses deep inside me.

When you collapse on top of me, I somehow remain conscious long enough to thank you.

You lean on your elbows over me, pulling the ribbons from my hair and snaking your magical fingers through the waves. “Sweet girl, my precious baby doll…” You kiss me with the tender sweetness that coats that inner wildness of yours, that keeps the beast docile and in check.

Oh, how I love those sticky layers of yours, Sir.

And how I love being your rag doll.

Scared

scared_by_GirL_PoiSoned[1]
Scared by GirL-PoiSoned via DeviantArt.com

You climbed inside
Made me see

Opened my mind
Made me BE

Gave me power
To give back to you

And opened me up
To my whole truth

I used to be scared
Of everything

I used to doubt 
My everything

The world is big
I am little

My world is hot
Becoming brittle

Reality poses
Held by fiction

The combination
Incredible friction

Don’t be scared, and don’t be rocked. In your love, I am bound and locked.

I’m still scared, but only of me. Because of this love that my world sees.

I’m scared because my axis IS turning. I’m scared because I can’t watch the burning.

I’m too scared to run, or stay, or hide. I’m still scared that this is really life.

Frozen in fear
Gripped in terror

Scared that soon

Explosion
Will correct my error.

 

 

The Cabin

The Cabin by UriahGallery viz DeviantArt.com
The Cabin
by UriahGallery via DeviantArt.com

On a sweet, autumn evening, she stepped into the cabin feeling all of the amazing nostalgia of having enjoyed countless, lazy weeks there… But, she’d never actually been there before.

The smell from the old, worn wood, the large fireplace which had several logs burning, and the vague but pungent scent of the trees, shedding their leaves outside, filled her with olfactory memories of experiences she didn’t really remember. The contrasting glow within the interior against the soft light of the sunset filtering through the trees made her eyes dance around, as though she was witnessing the spirits of moments long past.

After taking in as much as she could, her eyes finally landed on her dark Prince, standing in the kitchen and staring at her as though she were a spirit herself.  She smiled at him, cocking her head to one side, the way she often did, and basked in his gaze as he made his way toward her.

His eyes glittered with that Dominant fire that made her melt into her panties. His lips curled up as though he was reading her mind, and when he stopped within mere inches of her, she felt the heat radiating from him. Her knees nearly gave as his fingers rose to stroke her cheek.

A low rumble from his throat let her know her beast was hungry for his fill.

His finger tips skimmed over her lips and down her throat where he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her against him, crushing her lips with his. Her eyes closed until she heard him growl and felt him pull away.

When she opened them, his hand slid back into her thick, silky hair, pulling her head sharply back, exposing her neck. He growled again, near her ear, before rubbing his lovely beard across her neck, nipping and sucking to her moans and whimpers.

Her knees were weakening, and he must have sensed it, because he slid his leg between hers and used his free hand to grip her bottom, meshing their bodies together firmly. She could feel his erection, and suddenly could not control her own desire.

Her hands lifted, gripping his face and pulling him into a deep kiss. Her tongue searched his mouth feverishly and her hands stroked down his body wildly. Like a bitch in heat, her lust could not be contained.

Her animalistic passion only served to ignite his further, and he began savagely tearing her free from her clothes. Once she stood in front of him in just her panties, he stepped back to take in his sweet, curvy girl. Humming, deeply before finally giving voice to their excitement.

“My lovely pet, do you recognize this place? Do you feel the connection?” His voice washed over her in that warm, intoxicating way, like sipping sweet brandy or receiving a warm, oil massage. She nearly couldn’t answer him, but saw from the power in his glare that she was expected to.

“I feel it, Sir,” she whispered breathlessly, “but I don’t understand it.”

He chuckled softly before stepping against her and slipping his fingers into her soaking wet panties. “It’s strange, isn’t it, to know a place so well, having never been?” His lips slid across her chest before he lifted one of her heavy breasts so that he might take a bite.

She cried out and watched as her gentle beast licked, sucked and nipped at her thick nipples until they were red and tender. His growls grew more and more intense until they were almost the frightening roars of a desperate beast.

When he suddenly stood back and ordered her to lay over the ottoman in front of the fire, she thought perhaps she’d done something wrong, but then remembered that she’d asked him to mark her, to solidify her submission.

She watched the flames in the fireplace licking each other, dancing in exotic ways, and nearly became hypnotized by their performance. When she finally felt him behind her, she pleaded with him softly to speak again, to tell her a story.

As he stroked her back and buttocks, pulling her panties gently down her hips and thighs, he began to tell her a lovely tale, of a girl, vacationing in the woods, but being captured and held prisoner by a mighty wolfman. The story seemed familiar, and haunting, just like the cabin. Just like him.

He knelt next to her, his breath against her ear and his beard tickling her cheek. “Now, enough stalling, little girl,” he rumbled, before standing and removing his belt. “You wanted my marks, are you ready for them, Pet?”

She inhaled a long breath, gripping the edge of the cushion before sighing, “Yes, Sir. Please…”

He waited, she guessed, for her to relax, and when the tension finally left her shoulders, the first blow landed on her left cheek. The belt was folded, but his strength was incredible. By the tenth strike, tears pricked at her eyes, but her body was filled with a warmth that nothing could compare to.

He dropped to his knees behind her, releasing the belt, but not quite finished with her welted backside. Soothing her, then spanking her, she heard the beast bubbling again under the surface. She was so excited and delighted, she couldn’t help herself.

“Please, come out and play, sweet beast! Come enjoy your toy!”

She took in the feral smile of her lover as he growled at her and began tearing off his own clothes.

He lifted her from the ottoman and pulled her against him, knee to knee, breast to chest. He inhaled her sweetly scented hair, gripping her neck tightly before releasing another growl against her ear.

What followed was nearly indescribable. He pushed her to the carpet and devoured her, bathing her with his tongue and whimpering at her sweetness. His teeth sunk into her soft flesh, forcing yelps of pain and groans of pleasure to pour from her lips, unabated. His hands seemed to find themselves everywhere, and it wasn’t long before she was begging for release.

His affirming roar sent her over the edge of oblivion, the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced coursed through her body. Her mind lost, she could only ride the waves and aftershocks until she felt him hovering above her. His lips, slick with her liquid desire, his beard filled with her sweet and musky scent, and his eyes filled with carnal need.

He lifted her arms above her head and covered her body with his own, his steel desire pressed firmly against her thighs. He growled again, kissing her hard then biting her lips. Her moans and whimpers, filled the room as she attempted to separate her legs to invite him inside her molten, wetness. He chuckled, locking her down and grinning with almost frightening satisfaction at his ability to trap her and force her to submit to his will… not her own.

Once she was still, he released her wrists. “Keep them there,” he rumbled before separating her legs and rising to his knees between them. He stared down at her, growling once again, before using his fingers to torture her nipples again only long enough to make her whine.

He lifted her feet to his shoulders and with no warning pierced her dripping slit with his rock hard cock. She cried out from the shock of it, but kept her wrists locked above her head. She stared into his eyes as he remained there, sheathed in her velvety folds, clenching around him in her desire for more. She saw the flash, and felt the change in him, as he unlocked the chains that kept the beast in check.

And all was lost. The atmosphere in the room changed. The darkness came alive with the passion of inhuman fucking. He hammered into her, drilling through her, shifting her on the carpet until her head slammed into the ottoman. She gasped and panted, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control over her body, but it was useless.

When she stopped fighting, and succumbed to her powerful beast, she came, again, this time exploding with such ferocity, that it was she who roared, quaking the walls and silencing the spirits surrounding them.

He lifted her, like a rag doll, and held her against his chest. When she finally lifted her arms around him, he pulled her back slightly, grinning at her wasted expression. “My sweet bitch, I’m not even close to done with you yet.”

His intoxicating voice fed her the energy to continue, bringing a smile to her lips just before he kissed her again, with the demand that forced her to her knees, clinging to his shoulders before finally letting go again, submitting her lips… her body… her mind… and her heart to him completely.

He felt the change and growled into her mouth, “Yes, my sweet slut… The power you feed me is like nothing I ever could have imagined.”

He flipped her and took her again, but this time, piercing her ass, one hand gripping her hair and the fingers of the other digging into her ample hip. The pain was intense, but it was soon washed away with the incredible perfection of being his toy. This is what she’d wanted. What she’d always wanted, but could’ve never known.

This is what he’d wanted. What he’d always wanted. But never let himself feel.

The spirits swirled around them, delighted in their mating, and drunk from the success of bringing these creatures together, at last.

As they became fully aware of the extra presence surrounding them, it only fueled their wanton need for completion.  Her beast wrapped himself around her, grunting and seeking her final release with his fingers. She bore the weight of both of them, somehow, as the pleasure he sought fired, deep inside of her, like electricity.

She almost collapsed as it seared through her body before lifting her beyond any experience she’d had in her life. But then, as she felt her Love’s climax, pulsing and filling her with his seed, the experience exploded into something ethereal.

As they fell, he spun her and pulled her into his chest. Their breathing slowed as they stared into one anothers eyes, unsure if they should speak about what was around them.

He pulled her closer so that his lips were pressed against her ear, “Are you making this magic, My Love?”

“No Sir. It is magic for both of us. From both of us.”

As he pulled back and stared into her eyes, she wondered if perhaps she was being a silly, little girl. Believing in magic and spirits. Feeling the reality of that unexpected extra presence in a way that she simply could not explain.

But what she saw in his eyes was the explanation. There were not words to accompany it. And the warmth of that which surrounded them embraced them tightly, for a moment, before disappearing and leaving them with only their own warmth.

“It’s gone, Sweet girl.” His voice lacked the confidence of his words.

She looked around the room, at the fire still dancing, but smaller, at the walls which had seemed alive earlier, and inhaled the amazing scent of that cabin, now mixed with the pleasant fragrance of their love. She smiled and brushed his handsome beard with the tips of her fingers.

“I don’t think so, Sir. I think it will always be here, between us… within us.”

As his lips brushed hers, and that lovely rumble filled his chest again, she sighed and absorbed the moment. “Would you tell me another story, Sir? I want to be wrapped in your voice all night.

“Forever.”

Submissive heart

image
Bed by Laura-Skeff via Deviant Art.com

I’ll stay here, hang here, cling here, forever.
I won’t let you down, I want to be better.
I’ll accept it, your discipline, your guidance, your gift.
As long as it’s tempered with sweet tenderness.
I’ll open to you, completely and neatly.
Never hold back, even if it hurts me.
I’ll drip for you, moan for you, scream for you.
Because your power makes me that mess, for you.
I’ll give up myself, and all expectations.
If I don’t, will there be ramifications?
I’ll lick, suck, fuck, writhe, drink your cum.
Please, just please, pleasure me some.
I’ll do all these things and be everything,
If you promise not to take… everything.
I’ll do all these things, I’ll submit to you,
If my pleasure and heart mean the same, to you.

Take it. Hold it. Keep it safe.
My heart and my submission…
Reside… in the same place.

The Beast

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.”

White Beast by Eibo Jeddah via DeviantArt.com
White Beast by Eibo Jeddah via DeviantArt.com

Moonlighting, Part four

To catch up on the whole series, click here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it again…”

“Martin.”

“Do you like using my name?”

“Like this, yes….”

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

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

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

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

“Mmmmm, I like Sir.  What else?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It won’t,” I sigh, “It won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…to be continued

Moonlighting, Part three

To catch up on the whole series, click here.

He laughs and sits on the bed. When I’ve put away all the clutter, and wiped down all the surfaces with a face cloth, I look around the room and leave the hand towel next to His sink rumpled.

“I’m ready for inspection, Sir,” I call into the bedroom. When He walks toward me, this is the Master I know. His confident swagger returned, His demanding attention scoping around the room, searching out the tiny missed detail.

Of course he realizes it was intentional, and perhaps he understands that they all were. When He sees it, He grasps me around the back of the neck and walks me toward the infraction.

“Is this how I like my towels, sweet Chelsea?” His clipped tone hiding the sparkle that I hope gleams in His eye.

“Oh, no Sir. I’m so sorry,” I quiver as I reach to correct it.

“Go and kneel on the bed, knees apart, and wait for your punishment.”

As I obey, I’m again struck with thoughts of Marie. Lying or even kneeling on the bed she normally shares with Master seems like a betrayal, and my pace forward stops.

I glance back at Him, feeling unsure again. Perhaps this will not turn into anything, and we’ll all end up burying each other.

As I stand in the doorway, hesitating, He walks up behind me and places His hands on my shoulders. He pulls my back against Him and whispers, “She’s gone, sweet girl. And she won’t be returning.”

My body spins of its own volition. “What?! No, she’s on vacation, she told me herself!” I quickly check my attitude, “I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to shout. I-“

“It’s ok, little one. I asked her not to tell you, because I didn’t want you to assume that my desire to advance our relationship was due to some need to replace her.”

I stare up into His eyes, feeling exactly that.

“The truth is, I have ended my arrangement with both she and Rachel. But, I am allowing Rachel to stay in the apartment for a while.”

I turn and reach for his robe hanging from a hook beside the door, but my knees give out, and I’m suddenly in a heap on the floor.

Sir grabs the robe and drops to His knees to wrap me in it, then holds my face between His hands. “I’m definitely befuddled here, sweet girl. I never expected your loyalty to run so deep. I never expected to… I never thought I’d be willing to turn my life upside down… “

“Please say something… at least look at me?”

I shift my gaze from the floor to His face. Looking at Him still feels odd.  But His expression is so warming.  I feel the questions blooming in my mind.  I need answers.  “May I… Sir…”

“Please, Chelsea, ask me anything,” He breathes, relief washing over His features as he sits with His legs on either side of me, and lowers His hands to cover mine, rubbing them to warm them.  “You’re freezing, little one…” He whispers.

“Why?”

“Why… what?”

“Why did you turn your life upside down?”

He exhales, struggling with the answer. “Do you remember the week your divorce was final?  You texted me that afternoon. You said you were free, and you sounded so pleased. But then the next night, you left me that voicemail.”

He was stroking my hands, and I suddenly wished I was wrapped in his arms in bed instead of huddled in front of him on the cold, marble floor.  I shiver shot through me as I recalled that humiliating message. I had been so sad, lonely and frustrated. I sought out his companionship, knowing it wasn’t truly available.

“I was so concerned about you that I drove to your home. I wanted to hold you and comfort you, make you feel wanted and cared for.  Your sadness drove down deep into my heart, and I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about that. Every week I couldn’t wait for Wednesday, and it became very noticeable to Marie.  She asked me 4 weeks ago if I realized what was happening.

“I told her I was considering asking you to live here with us, and she told me it would never work.  She made me see that you were not like her and Rachel. You were submissive, but if you were truly going to be safe in the lifestyle, you would need someone who could devote themselves completely to being your Dominant.  She does not believe I have it in me to do that.  I’ve surrounded myself for years with many submissives who could all offer me something different.  I could never settle for just one.

“But every week after that, you showed me something about yourself that I had never found before.  And then, a few weeks ago, I heard you chatting with Marie. She had already told me she was leaving, and I was worried what she was going to say to you, so I eavesdropped.  You had just had a pretty brutal strapping, but you babbled away as if you hadn’t been punished at all.  During your conversation, Rachel found me listening and smiling, and she told me she thought I was falling for you.

“And then you said something that knocked the wind out of me.  You told Marie that you wished you could find a single guy, just like me.  Rachel heard it too, and when she saw my face…”

I looked up at Him, waiting for Him to finish.  But His eyes told me everything.

“Sir, May I ask how you even know that…  I mean, what if I… What if we cannot be what each other needs?  I cannot bear the thought of your whole world-“

“Stop. After just ending a marriage, I can’t believe you would even… No, I can believe it, but if you accept… If you become mine, this is your first rule: You are not permitted to believe you are not worth my whole world.”  His fingers trace down my cheek and neck, to stroke my hair.  “You are the most amazing creature I have ever had the pleasure to gaze upon.”

His words stopped my heart. My chest feels odd, and full again, as though the years spent shriveling in an empty marriage never happened.  But I’m still not ready to offer Him my everything… My complete submission?  I’m not even sure what that would mean for my life, career, etc.

“I’m just… Please, Sir.  Can we get up off the floor?”  I squeak, feeling too vulnerable.

“I have more questions, but could we put all of it aside for tonight?  I think… I’d like… You were… About to punish me, Sir?” I know my voice is barely audible, but I know feeling His Dominance will help me.

I need to feel, even just for a moment, what it will be like to be His, completely.

He doesn’t speak, and I can only guess He is struggling with what to do.  He’s never been in this situation before, always having had experienced subs.  Taking me on as a service sub had been a very difficult decision for Him.  This must seem like completely foreign territory.

I decide to help by removing the robe.  I stand to hang it back on the hook, and then lower myself to the floor, on my knees, in front of Him, linking my arms behind me and lowering my chin. A small show of submission. A request for power exchange.

He remains silent and still for a long time.  When he finally rises, I remember Rachel once telling me to never have expectations, when it came to punishments. So I tried to empty my mind, pushing my anxiety down into the pit of my stomach.  I wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but He wasn’t reaching down to collect me, so I concentrated on my breathing.

After several more minutes, I hear Him moving around.  He opens a drawer in the bedroom, then I hear Him pulling something out of the linen closet behind me.

“Since, my pet, you let on that you didn’t like being on the floor, part of your punishment will be to remain there for a while.” He kneels beside me and pulls my arms swiftly down my back.  He wraps them with something tightly, and I respond to His signal to clasp my hands together. “Good girl,” He whispers, and the delicious rush those two tiny words provide is exhilarating.  I cannot wait to hear them again and again.

He exhales deeply, and glides His fingers down my backside.  He arranges my body with expert hands, pushing my chest to the floor, pulling my knees apart as far as my muscles will allow, and then he grips my hips and pulls them up, raising my behind into the air.  When I move my feet, to use my toes on the floor for balance, He slaps them both and presses the tops of them against the cold tile beneath me.  “Use your large muscles for balance, pretty girl, not your tiny ones.”  His admonishment sends me further into submission.

“Now, sweet Chelsea, I am not punishing you this evening for the hand towel, but because you intentionally ignored a minor detail while completing your task, and this is clearly a pattern of manipulation.  True submission is to be constantly pleasing, not seeking out punishment.  If you are in need of attention, you need only tell me so.  Manipulation displeases me.  But communication makes me very happy.  Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Sir,” I bleat against the tile.

“Because you appear to enjoy spanking and strapping, I will only use those for pleasure.  Your punishments will be much more intense.  Do you understand?”

“I… You… Are you going to hurt me badly, Sir?”

“Sweet girl, have I ever hurt you badly? Or even close?”

“No Sir.”

“You have a very high tolerance for pain, so I am going to have to experiment on you.  But if it is too much for you, you need only to tell me so. I will take things slowly, but I am fairly sure I have a better idea of what you can take than you do.”

“Ok, Sir.”

“I’m going to use a flogger to start. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then, I will begin.”

He inhaled a long breath, I felt the air rush over my backside, and then the tiny strands of leather sting against my skin.  After several blows, the stinging sensation gets hotter.  He swings in a steady pace from side to side at first, and the rhythm becomes meditative.  But that doesn’t last long as he increases speed.  Suddenly, I feel the bites of just the tips of the strands, like a hundred bee stings, and I cry out.  He does this again several times, and I feel my will starting to return.  I’m not sure how much more I can take, and just as I think I might say stop, He shifts back into the repetitive side to side swings that he started with.

I don’t allow myself to float off this time, and instead listen to His breathing.  With each blow, He grunts very softly, and I find myself imagining His growing erection.  I picture Him watching my ass redden and undulate with the strikes, with a satisfied smile on His lips.  My body responds to my thoughts and my hips rotate slightly as I raise it higher in the air by arching my back as much as I can.  He groans, and increases His speed again, flicking at the end of each swing so that I feel the bee stings again.

This time, the pain pushes me down further.  I want to complete this punishment, I want to hear him say those lovely two words that will wrap against my heart and make me whole.

Sensing my determination, he changes pace and direction, again. And whimpers and moans escape my throat automatically. Tears sting my eyes, and something within me breaks.  A wrenching sob escapes my chest, and I shout, “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry…” He doesn’t stop. And I don’t ask him to.

As he continues, the heartache and sadness that has filled my heart for months, maybe year, pours from deep within me. It is an incredible release.  The sobs rip through me, and I think he is speaking to me, but his words don’t register, even though I think I answer.  I feel like I need it to be more.  Harder.  Suddenly, he throws down the flogger and uses something else. It cracks against my skin and whistles through the air.  With each burning strike, I feel something blooming within me.  I let go, and allow it to take control.  This punishment has turned into something I never expected I needed.  As I let go, the release of my tears and the movement of my body is all that I feel. I inhale deeply and as I release that breath, I feel detached.  I feel words leave my lips, but I don’t hear them.  I feel the air across my skin, and goose-bumps tingle across my flesh, but cannot place what causes them.  I exhale again, suddenly realizing that I think I hear his voice.

“Sir?”  I whisper, unable to open my eyes.

I hear his voice again, but cannot make out the words.  I feel his hands unbinding my arms and then his breath on my back.  His breathing is hard and fast, and I feel him move in front of me, scooping me up and onto His lap.

“Sir?”  I breathe again, still unsure of what is happening.

“Yes, my good girl,” he growls against my hair, stroking me and rubbing my arms.  “I believe that turned out to be a therapy beating.”

“Sir?” I force my eyes to open, and when they do, the flood of light surprises me.

“Shhh, give yourself a moment, my sweet.  You were deep in subspace.  Are you in any pain?” His words are soft and gentle, but his voice is husky and breathless.

“No, sir.  I’m not sure I feel anything….”  He squeezes me in His strong embrace, assuring me.  “I… I’m not sure what happened?”

“You broke.  Reset.  The pain opened you up to let go, emotionally.” He kisses my hair and is pulling the robe around my shivering body. “You said he ruined you…”

“S-sir?  I think I might like a few more of those….” I whisper, the room feeling small and overwhelming at the same time. “Letting go…”

“What did you mean, precious?  Who ruined you? Your ex-husband?”  His hands rubbed and kneaded my hips and thighs.

“He took the best part of me.  I loved him and gave him everything, but he didn’t really know how to love. At the end, I stopped taking care of him.  I stopped talking to him.  When we did talk, he was always hurtful and empty.  I think he is broken, and that is why he ruined me.”

I felt the tears sliding down my cheeks again, and Martin’s arms tighten around me.  He leans me back, wiping my tears with his thumbs.

“Oh, darling girl… Thank you for letting me rip it out of you. You are not ruined. He took from you, but not the best parts.  It will be my life long goal to build you back up, to make you complete again. But the best parts are all still here.”  His lips drop to mine, and his flames pour into me, reigniting my desire.

I moan as his tongue circles mine.  His fingers trail down my cheek and neck, and flatten so that his whole hand glides down the length of me.  He lifts me off his lap, setting my seared backside on the cold tile floor before rising to his knees and scooping me up in his arms.  He rises with such ease, his strength so obvious, I’m overcome with my feelings for him, and bury my face against his neck.

As he glides into the bedroom, he dims the lights and places me on the bed, pulling the robe off of my body as he does so.  He quickly removes his clothes and clicks a button on the night table, filling the room with soft music.  He places his palms on the bed next to my shoulder and glides onto the bed, lying directly on top of me. I squirm against his erection, wanting him inside of me, but only achieve a small amount of friction.

He drops to his elbows, placing his hands on either side of my face. “Tonight, I am going to make love to you the way only I can, sweet Chelsea, because that is what your shattered heart needs most.”

…to be continued.

Moonlighting, Part two

To catch up on the whole series, click here.

“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.

Moonlighting, Part one

To catch up on the whole series, click here.

Pressing my forehead against the cold glass of my car window, I debate going inside. I do this every week.

Every Wednesday, for 10 weeks, I have left my “real life” to come here and pretend to be someone else. In clothes that don’t fit into my wardrobe, shoes that most women would die to own, and a sparkling beauty that I rarely see in myself, I become veronica.

She is sweet but sultry, demure but erotic, fantastic but punishable. She is submissive. She is what I, Chelsea, would truly like to be.

I decided to use the fake name at the suggestion of Martin, my “Master”. He believed it would help me disassociate since I clearly wanted the job, but my morals kept me from feeling good about it. Being paid to play a part makes it easier.

Now, I live for these nights, and I’m not truly doing anything wrong, but I constantly worry that continuing with this arrangement will prevent me from moving on with my life, and finding someone to share my life with.  I tell myself once again, it is just a part. I steel myself against the anxiety, knowing that I have been happier in the last several months than I was at any moment in the past 10 years.

I love this little “job”.  It makes me feel remarkable, and useful. My day job can’t hold a flame to this one.

I straighten up, feeling the familiar release that is veronica’s submission.  I do not have a choice, I must do as Master wishes. Per my contract, his wishes are for me to show up at 8pm every Wednesday, dressed in the clothes he chooses, and complete the tasks he assigns (mostly cooking and cleaning). After these tasks, I am either punished or rewarded, which for me, are often the same thing, a lovely, long, hard spanking. I’ll admit, getting paid after that does feel a little wrong.
But it isn’t much, enough to cover the time I spend actually cleaning.

Sometimes, when he permits me to pleasure myself during or after (reward), I feel especially guilty. But often, he orders me not to touch myself at all, and to go home frustrated. This definitely helps with the guilt, it feels more like work, I guess.

When we first made this arrangement, I was still married. However estranged my husband and I were, I did not feel comfortable having a physical relationship with another man. So, getting this thing I needed from a job seemed like a perfect fit.  I have thought about it many times recently, but cannot imagine having a full relationship with Martin.  He has two other subs, and I don’t think this is the type of relationship I would like full time, unless it was monogamous.  I have always believed in love.  One man, one woman, in deep, loving commitment to each other.

I wonder momentarily if Martin could live that way, with only my submission, somehow.  But I don’t allow myself to dwell on that idea.

As I make my way to the front of the townhouse, Grady is exiting and smiles at me. In his husky voice, he admonishes me. “You are going to be late, veronica.  You know Mr. Martin is not going to be pleased.”
He has been Martin’s assistant for years, so I assume he knows all that there is to know about His lifestyle, in particular, what happens to His subs when they are late.

“I’m hurrying, Grady, Thank you.”  I exhale, fumbling for the key to Rachel’s door.  Sir has two regular subs, Rachel, who lives in an apartment created out of what must have once been servant’s quarters in the luxury home, and Marie, who lives with Him in the main house.  She has been gone, the last few weeks, visiting family.

I use Rachel’s apartment to change into the costumes or outfits that Master chooses for me. As I step inside, I am surprised to find her, lying on the sofa in a fluffy robe, with a bright red nose and a pile of tissues on the table. “Oh, no! Are you sick??”  I squeak before realizing what a stupid question that is.

“Yeb. An’ it sucks,” Rachel moans.  “Don’t come near me, I don’t wanna get you sick too.” She coughs and wheezes before blowing her nose and tossing the tissue towards the pile.

“Don’t worry, I have lungs o’steel.  Do you need anything?  Some soup?” I say as I pull the waste basket from under her desk and tidy up the mess.  I gather several mugs and cups and carry them into the kitchen, not waiting for an answer.

“You’re going to be late, and Marie is still gone, so Master is going to be waiting for some company.”

My heart stops, and I wonder if she meant what I think she meant.

Of course not, ninny.  She just meant companionship. Was that hope I just felt?

After unloading my arms, I pick up the phone in her kitchen and dial Master’s cell.

“What do you need, Rachel?” He answers, sounding distracted.
“Sir, it is veronica. I am here to get dressed, but…”
“But what, veronica, I do not like to be kept waiting.” His voice is lower than normal, and slightly raspy.
“May I ask, if it is OK to be a few minutes late so that I can make Rachel some soup?  …Please, Master?”
He pauses momentarily. “Of course. She is still very ill?” He sounds tired, but the annoyance in his voice wanes.
“Yes, Master.  And I’m not sure she’s eaten anything today.”
“Ten minutes, veronica.  But do not change.” Deeper than ever, I sense something else in his voice… Hunger?
“Sir? -” click.

That was unusual. Well, what did you expect? You are keeping him waiting!

I rush around the kitchen, finding soup and some crackers.  While I pour the soup into a bowl to heat, I contemplate the reason he doesn’t want me to change.  He wants you there sooner, because he’s going to rip your clothes off of you!

No, He would not do that. When we established our agreement, I told Him I was simply looking to be a service submissive, a maid that he could spank. I was excited by the idea of the spankings, because I often fantasized that my husband would find some task incomplete or improperly completed, and would pull me over his knee.  This type of correction seemed like it would help me.  I had no idea how much I would enjoy it until, on my first day, I neglected to wipe out the water droplets in the kitchen sink.  It was such a small detail, after he bent me over the table and smacked me 40 times, it is a detail I never miss, even in my own home.  And that night, I was so aroused that I contemplated hooking up with my soon-to-be ex-husband, just for the release.

After washing Rachel’s dishes, I carry in a tray to her with soup, crackers, some orange juice and tea. “Oh, Roni! How sweet are you?” She smiles up at me. I help her situate herself on the sofa, so that she can eat and after I turn on the TV and hand her the remote, it has already been 9 minutes.

As I run out the door, I tell her that I’ll come back after to clean up and help her get into bed, and she thanks me, in the middle of a coughing fit. I contemplate what it will mean to walk into Master’s home with my own clothes on.  I’ve only done so twice, when we were ironing out our arrangement.  The second meeting, He introduced me to His subs.  They were both friendly and openly answered tons of my questions.  When it was time to decide, I had asked them both why they were willing to share.  And while their answers made sense to me intellectually (they each could provide something to Master that the other couldn’t), emotionally, it made me queasy.

When I push open the front door of the main house, Master is standing in the foyer waiting for me.

“Sir, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, dashing inside and dropping my gaze.
He doesn’t say anything, but ushers me into the kitchen.  He slides off my jacket, and hangs it on the back of one of the stools at the island.  When he beckons me to sit, I just stare at him, anxiety locking my body. This feels nothing like a conference with a regular employer.
Nor does it feel like a meeting between Dom and sub.

“Chelsea, please sit. I want to talk to you for a moment.” His voice is not the normal dominant one I am used to.  And His use of my real name sends shivers down my spine.  I suddenly realize he is wearing jeans and that his normally crisp, white, suit shirt is untucked and his sleeves are rolled up.  This is not the polished Sir I have become used to.

I fold myself onto the stool and look up at him. He glides into the seat next to me, and swivels to face me. “Chelsea, you are such a sweet and lovely woman. I have enjoyed your services greatly, but I find myself in an odd predicament.”  When He licks His lips, I drop my gaze, feeling out of sorts, being Chelsea in the place that veronica knows so well.

“What is it, Sir?  Have I done something wrong?  Are you upset that I am late?”  I twist my hands in my lap, wondering if He’s ending our arrangement.  I silently pray he is not. But it’s not the job I will miss.

“No, my pet,” He whispers, raising a hand to touch my cheek, but pulling away before He reaches me.  I suddenly long for His touch, His fingers on my skin.  This is new.  I twist uncomfortably in my seat, and cast my eyes to the floor again.

“Tonight, you saw Rachel in need of something.  A need that you could have easily ignored or told me to have someone attend to, but you chose to help her yourself.  Many of the evenings you have spent here, I see you do things that are above and beyond the tasks I assign to you.  I want you to know how much that pleases me.  You are very good at what you do, and I only seek out flaws in your work… because…” When His voice trails off, I glance up at him, but see that he is staring at me, and focus my gaze on my fingers in my lap.

“I believe you enjoy being punished, but lately, it seems that you long for more than that.” I feel a blush rise in my cheeks and my stomach turns. I feel excited, nervous, and scared to death. I’m not entirely sure what I want, but I know exactly what he means.  I have lingered in His presence after my punishments lately.  Last week, during a hand spanking for crumbs left on the coffee table, I begged for more until He told me He had been spanking me for an hour and simply couldn’t continue.

I recall the heat in His gaze that evening, and sigh.

“Please look at me, Chelsea.” I look up and see warmth in his expression tonight, however pained it may be.  I see him struggling with what he wants to say, and cannot imagine how he could ever find it difficult to speak to me.

“What is the predicament, Sir?” My soft words seem to ease something in him, he visibly relaxes, and I feel a smile pull at the corners of my mouth.  The realization that I fully desire to please Him is not lost on me.  Or Him.

He smiles as well, and reaches up again to touch my cheek, but this time, he doesn’t pull away.  “Good girl,” He whispers.  And those two little words melt into me like chocolate.  Their delicious sweetness is quite enough for me to realize His dilemma.

“I have developed a crush on you, sweet Chelsea.” His smile broadens, as I lean into his hand on my cheek.  But it fades quickly, and His fingers slide away from me and into His lap.  “And therein lies my predicament.

…to be continued.

Dark Dream

At the start of this dark dream,
I cannot hear anything but my voice.
I cannot see anything except myself.

I’m grasping in the blackness for you,
Pleading with you to speak to me.
Begging you to touch me.

I know you are there,
I can feel your presence.
I can sense you.

But you still don’t speak or reach for me,
I begin to cry and scream.
“Why don’t you want me?”

Finally I feel your grip,
As you tightly wrap your fingers around my throat.
As you viciously restrain my wrists.

I still cannot see you,
Something distorts my vision.
Something dark, thick and heavy.

“Why don’t you want me? Sir,
Tell me what you want.
Tell me what you need.”

“You don’t know how,” your voice is cold,
I cannot fulfill your desires.
I cannot be your charge.

You release me, but it feels as though you never had me,
I stand and await your command.
I do not remove the blinder.

I whimper into the darkness,
You beckon me to find you.
I anxiously set out towards your voice.

I sense your presence closer,
I reach you, knowing it, without touching you.
I fall to my knees at your feet.

“Why don’t you want me?”
The question hangs in the air.
You remove the mask from my eyes.

You sit before me, bathed in the darkness,
My flesh, untouched.
My lips, unkissed.

I search your empty eyes,
You do not see me.
You do not hear me.

You beckon for me again,
But I’m right before you.
If you’d just reach out, you’d feel me.

“Why don’t you want me?”
Your eyes pierce my soul.
Your tears sting as if they were my own.

“Please, Sir. You’re hurting me…”
Your gaze finally finds mine.
You finally heard me.

“I cannot truly hurt you,
That’s the draw, pumpkin.
You’ll have to hurt yourself.”

I actually would hurt myself for you,
I would do it everyday.
Because you can’t hurt me.

Because I need to be hurt.

Because you need me to be hurt.

Because you actually DO hurt me.

Constantly.

“Why don’t you want me?”

And then I awake,
My heart in my throat.
My nails digging into my palms.

Hurting myself.

For you.

The sadist in my dreams.