To say it had been a rough day would be an understatement. Emma slid her key in the door and stepped inside briskly, taking a deep breath to steady herself. After weeks of mandatory masturbation at His behest, she was on the tenth day of denial. Naturally, He was taking full advantage of this and had spent the relatively slow day at her work keeping her occupied.
It started with pictures, simple images and gifs, and like everything else with Him it started innocently enough. The first few pictures were of rope harnesses, ideas for ties they could work on the next time they played. Then they became slightly more explicit, but only just, a spread ass filled with a jeweled butt plug, or a vibrator tied to a juicy clit. But it didn’t stop, and it wasn’t long before she was being subject to all manner of depravity, wanton women with their eyes rolled in the back of their heads as their holes were abused.
But it wasn’t strictly a visual feast for her, because He knew it was His words which fueled her passions more than anything else. The first messages were sweet, promises of all the things He would do for her when they reconvened. Even the sweetness was tinged with filth as he spoke of the beauty of her curves, the sacredness of her beauty, and the sweetness of her pussy. His words brought back memories of their earliest sessions when He took control of her for the first time. When He made her cum as no other had and made it clear exactly how deeply she belonged to Him.
Her hands fell to the collar she wore around her neck as she slipped out of her dress, dropping it to the floor. Every fiber in her body was screaming for her hands, clenching and unclenching helplessly at her sides, to find their way between her legs. Emma’s pussy was dripping wet, her panties sopping, but she was a good girl and she would not disobey an instruction. Even if she was rather convinced that He was cheating by spending all day teasing her when she couldn’t avoid His control. There was only only one thing which could ease Emma’s torment, a goal she pursued with single-minded determination as she stepped out of her panties without breaking stride.
Stepping into the bathroom she strode up to the large porcelain tub in the corner, dropping in the plug before turning on the water. Instantly steam began to curl up toward the ceiling, as the warmth fought off the winter chill. Emma stood before the mirror and allowed herself a moment to admire her figure. She could still see all the flaws that haunted her, but His devotions were so strong, so constant that she was beginning to see what He did. The delicate curve of her breast, the hint of a smile on her lips at thoughts of Him, His touch.
Shaking her head to break the reverie, she stepped into the tub and sank down feeling the water absorb her. Long, dark locks of hair began to float to the surface as Emma sank below the water, only her nose peeking out. Streaks of fluorescent color weaved through her hair in stark contrast to the pale porcelain of the tub. Emma could feel the warmth soaking through her skin, calming her mind, easing the tension that had built within her through the course of the day. She let out a long, deep breath and closed her eyes.
Time passed slowly. Emma kept her head beneath the water’s surface, feeling her mind and body attune to the stillness of the bath. Her breathing slowed further, her heart rate calmed, and the burning desire in her pussy which had ruled the greater part of her day finally became somewhat manageable. Everything in her world was coming back into order. Then she heard the sound of a key jingling, the dead bolt turning, and the squeak as the front door swung free.
She sat upright in the tub, rivulets of water streaming down her skin, tracing the swell of her breasts before falling back into the tub. It was Him. It had to be. Her heart rate began to increase in tempo, thumping at the possibilities that His arrival brought with it. Steadying herself with her left hand, Emma used her right to adjust her hair so that it covered her chest, feeling surprisingly self-conscious about her nudity in front of a man that had seen all of her there was to see.
“Hey,” His voice called from the front of the house. In an instant, she found herself melting at the sound of His voice and all it drew forth from her.
Taking a moment to regain composure she replied in the sultriest voice she could muster, “Hello there Sir.”
She could hear Him chuckle quietly, then that melodious voice again. “That damn word.” Then her ears were left with silence, punctuated by only the most cursory of sounds. He was moving around, doing…well, she couldn’t quite tell. It was maddening, the way He barged in to interrupt her sanctuary. This was supposed to be her chance to regain composure after a long day of fighting against her baser urges.
It was then that she realized she was clenching her thighs together tightly and parted her legs, causing a ripple to wash through the tub. He stepped into the room at that moment, His eyes taking her all in. His gaze was hungry, consuming, it seemed to take all of her that had ever been and still crave more to see. Blushing, despite the familiarity, Emma pulled her legs back together and drew her knees up to her chest.
He wore a simple outfit, jeans and a button-down shirt, His beard combed while His hair was shaggy and unruly. In one hand there was a candle, the dancing flame casting dancing shadows across the walls of the bathroom. In the other hand was a small glass of whiskey. There was a lightness to His eyes and a smirk on His lips as he leaned down to place the candle next to the tub and the whiskey in her hand.
“I thought you deserved a little treat after today.”
His voice was confident and calm, quiet enough that she found herself craning her neck up to hear. It was all part of His plan, as He leaned down ever-so-slightly and His lips found hers. She melted again, this time feeling her body give way under the magic of His mouth against hers. Emma’s lips parted slightly, His tongue darting in playfully before sliding back, His teeth closing gently on her lower lip and stretching it out before he stood before Emma once more. Emma knew the truth of it, but this kiss reinforced it, she was His slave. There was nothing on Heaven or Earth He could command that she would not obey.
He straightened up and smiled down at her before walking over to the cupboard and pulling forth a large, folded towel and a small orange ball. He flicked the ball nonchalantly into the tub and immediately the placid water erupted with fizzing and color, as a glittering pastel hue filled the bath. The bath bomb danced and hissed across the water as He placed the towel on the floor and plopped down next to the tub. With His eyes on hers, He rolled up His sleeves and reached a hand out to gently touch her cheek.
Each motion was a key that unlocked another part of her soul. Emma knew that she had no secrets from Him, but still she found herself wishing she had more to give. She closed her eyes against the gentle touch, feeling His fingertips running along her jawline to her neck. His nails dragging along her neck before switching to just a solitary fingertip tracing her collarbone, then dipping into the valley of her cleavage and diving down to the surface of the water as the bath bomb finished its effervescent dance.
“You’re mine Emma,” he stated as the simple fact it was.
She trembled, bit her lip, and mustered a reply. “Yes sir.”
“I know you know that,” he said, idly dragging that one fingertip along her abdomen, tantalizingly close to all that she desired. “But, sometimes we need reminders of things we already know. I mean, how could you forget that you were mine, do you remember the last time I let you cum?”
“Yes, sir,” she cooed, His fingertip vanishing beneath the unnaturally orange water only to reappear and slide up along the underside of her breasts.
“Of course you do, how could you forget? We were coming home from drinks with your friends and I just had to have you. So, there you were my wanton little slut, in the passenger seat of my car, as we drove along the busy street with my fingers buried in your cunt while you rubbed your clit against my palm.”
His fingernail began to scratch a figure eight pattern that started at one nipple and ended at the other. Never actually touching either of them, but circling ever closer as they stiffened.
“But that’s just how things are supposed to be, because you’re my slut aren’t you Emma?” he drove home the point by letting His nail catch on her nipple and pull with a little tug that sent a jolt of pleasure through her entire body. Emma rocked in the water, catching herself and trying to steady her breathing.
“Yes sir. I’m your slave. Your slut. Your property.”
It was harder for her to find the words, harder for her to organize even the simplest of thoughts, that damned finger of His was driving out thoughts of everything except her service. She was owned, completely subservient to that finger now playing her body like an instrument.
His eyes locked on hers, His hand sliding up to rest on the underside of her jaw. As he studied her face, His thumb slid along her cheek. Eagerly Emma turned her head, taking His thumb into her mouth and enthusiastically sucking it, wrapping her tongue around it in ways which she hoped would provide him the same level of distraction that His hands were having on her. She maintained eye contact as He pulled free and returned to roaming over her body.
Emma’s nipples were rock hard, her body glistened with drops of water which reflected the shimmer of the candlelight, casting her in a reddish glow which was only enhanced by the water. Her breathing was shallow, her pussy throbbing beneath the water, her mind consumed with thoughts of how she might serve Him.
The smile returned to His lips, stretching broadly across His face as that blessed finger finally slid beneath the water. He dragged the nail purposefully along her inner thighs, to the point that it took every ounce of strength for Emma not to snap her thighs shut like a bear trap and pin His hand against her clit while she rode him to her first orgasm in nearly two weeks. But no. Because as much as she longed for the pleasure that only He could draw forth from her, there was a greater reward for her in the restraint. In giving her trust and obedience to Him, she was making herself eligible for the greatest prize in the world, the two most blessed words in the whole of the language, “Good girl.” She fought against her urges and returned His smile.
His finger continued its submarine exploration until finally coming to rest against her clit. She sank back, carefully resting her head against the rail of the tub, feeling her body giving way to His control. His finger tapped against her clit, teasing and rubbing it, the motions so slow and gentle that at first it was like the hint of a breeze. Then it became more insistent, tugging at her hood as His fingertip circled her swollen clit.
“You like being my slut,” he stated it as a plain fact, which she would not refute. He had fucked every one of her holes, sometimes in public, sometimes with friends or toys, and she knew there was little He could ask that she would not relent to. There was something about Him that made her feel safe in her submission and she was able to give Him everything including her sexuality. “You need to be my naughty fucktoy.”
The words were so simple but so true, they spoke to her in ways that little had. She relaxed, sinking further into the tub, the warmth of the water cresting over her shoulders and sending her hair floating again. Soft moans, little more than whimpers slipped from her mouth. His touch was light but insistent, never releasing the pressure on her clit although He alternated how He touched her, there was never a moment for her to recover.
“You’ve been thinking about this all day. All week. Imagining when you’d get back to how things are supposed to be. You’ve felt empty this entire time.”
At this, Emma squealed, surprising even herself. When He mentioned how empty she’d felt, Emma had felt her pussy clench involuntarily as if to drive His point home. Her head was swimming, the warmth of the water, the sweet apple-cinnamon spice of the candle, His honied words, and the magic of that one finger were all too much.
“Look how little effort it takes, just one finger.” He swirled the finger in a rapid series of circles which caused Emma to grab the rails of the tub, squeezing until her knuckles were white. But then He slowed, and she was able to relax somewhat before the tempo picked up again. He switched back and forth, from gentle to rough, causing her to thrash and send a small wave over the lip of the tub where it cascaded down to the floor in a series of drips.
“One little finger, and your mind goes blank. One little finger, and your whole world becomes mine.” His tone wasn’t mocking, more matter-of-fact. She certainly wouldn’t try to deny the effects He was having upon her. Already she could feel the pleasure building within her.
“Please…” the word sprang from her lips without her bidding. Quickly, she corrected herself and finished the thought, “Please sir, please let me cum. I can’t think, I can’t focus, please sir…I need to cum.”
There had been no need to feign desperation, she could feel the warmth between her legs, the need burning in her mind. Begging was a double-edged sword. For every time that her begging had caused Him to relent, there were two more where it had strengthened His resolve ten-fold. Emma closed her eyes and hoped that this was one of the times where His desire to control her pleasure would coincide with His desire to make her cum.
“Needy little slut,” He growled in her ear, His finger moving at a more rapid pace. His touch was adept, He knew exactly how to control her through her clit. Emma’s moans built into a crescendo before morphing into a howl. A long, unbroken eruption of pleasure that spilled forth as His finger drew an orgasm closer.
“Well, go on, cum. Cum for me, cunt. You have ten seconds. 10….9….”
She could feel the need welling up between her legs, feel the way his words turned her brain to mush and caused her pussy to leak. He didn’t make it passed 8. As He growled out the beginning of seven, her body went rigid and taut, her limbs outstretched and clinging tightly to the tub. Then a groan of pleasure burst forth, leaping from her chest, a guttural sound of lust and desire which echoed in the small room as His finger kept up its tapping until her body snapped back into motion, flailing and twitching. A spray of bathwater coated the walls and ceiling as Emma struggled to regain her composure.
“Thank you sir,” she whimpered, as her breath began to return to something approaching normal.
“Don’t thank me yet, my good girl. You spent ten days without orgasm. This was just the first, there are nine more due you yet.”
Emma felt a blush creeping across her entire body as his lips met hers, and her mind melted away once again.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/5e40al/bath_time_tease_str8m_f_mdom_fsub