You text me while I’m in my office, and while I’m always happy to see your texts, I was especially grateful for a distraction from my day. Our conversation was short, just the average check in, but I could tell by your choice of words that a need had been building in you for a release. I’ve learned to read you, recognize the subtle signs.
I take a few moments to make my plans before texting you again, “I will pick you up from work tomorrow. I want you to be wearing a simple dress, bra, panties, stockings and heels. All black. Do not worry about dinner. I will take care of it after.” Your reply was simple, “Yes sir.” I could sense the relief and excitement I was certain was on your face.
I arrive outside your work at 6:00 PM, find you waiting for me, dressed as I had instructed. I kiss you, short, passionate, familiar, delightful, then I drive us to a 5-star hotel, get two bags out of the back of the car, and without saying a word, escort you up to one of the suites on the top floor.
I barely even close the door behind me before dropping the bags, stepping to you, grabbing the back of your head and pulling your mouth to mine, for a real kiss. Our tongues dance and explore as I pull you tight against me, one hand buried in your hair, the other firmly clutching your ass. I feel your hands on my back, nails clawing at my skin even through my dress shirt.
After a moment I grabbed your shoulders and push you back. “Let me look at you,” I growl. You stand there obediently while I let my eyes appreciate your body. “Turn around.” You comply, letting me see how well the panties you chosen accentuate your backside. “Face the wall and close your eyes.” You do as you are told as I get some supplies out of one of the bags: rope, candles, handcuffs, a crop, a paddle, leather straps. I go to the bed and arrange everything with practiced efficiency. I light the candles for later, tie the ropes just so.
When I’m done, I silently step up behind you, turn you around, wrap one arm around your waist and place my other hand firmly up to your throat, pushing your chin up until your head rested against my chest. “You chose well,” I whisper in your ear. “ Thank you, sir,” you respond. “Turn around and stay here. I have a little present for you.”
I reach into the unzipped bag to pull out the little gift I had gotten for you.
I hold it up for you to see. It was a simple, yet expertly handmade leather black collar with a little silver clasp. On one side in silver lettering was a single word: SEELIE. “I saw this the other day, and have been thinking how good it would feel to see you wearing it, with your special name on it, so I just had to get it for you,” I whisper. Your eyes shimmer with excitement as you consider your new collar. Expectantly, you lift up your chin, exposing yourself for me to put the leather collar around your throat. I gently wrap the collar around your neck, cinching it tight, just before the level of discomfort.
I trace the edge of your collar with a fingertip before seizing my hand around your throat. I squeeze, not enough pressure to cut off your air, but just enough to remind you that I could. I kept my grip firm as I let my thumb graze the exquisite skin of your neck. Your lips part just a bit and your breath is caught in your throat for a second, in that cute little way you do when you get very aroused. It was then that I realize my desire as well. I had known, the moment I saw your text, that you needed this time to go into sub space, reset your mind, that you needed to feel my powerful but controlled hands on you. And I was eager to provide my pet what she desires to keep her safe, happy and satisfied. But I had been so focused on what you needed that I had not paid attention to my own desires. It was then, with my hand firmly around your throat, the feel of your pulse ticking on my fingers, and your eyes locked on mine, pleading for more, daring me to hurt you, set you loose, that I realized that just as much as you needed to feel my hands on you, I needed to feel your body beneath me.
I tightened my grip on your throat and unleash my other hand, slapping your across your face. The sudden shift to violence must have taken you by surprise because you gasped and tears immediately formed in the corners of your eyes. I strike you hard enough to leave a temporary red mark, but not enough for a bruise to form. You’ll be able to see in the mirror later that night a handprint, my handprint, but by morning it will fade to memories. Other marks I leave on you will last. Again my hand slaps your face. Your cheeks are starting to turn red and splotchy. “Good girl” I say, and kiss you, hard and deep, biting your lip, letting you bite me in return, biting and kissing back and forth, hard enough to sting. “On your knees for me, Seelie”
Obediently you lower yourself on your knees, put your hands submissively behind your back, and open your mouth with a slight smirk. I pull my cock out of my pants, already hard with anticipation. Immediately, you take my dick in your open mouth and began slowly bobbing your head up and down. I see the glimmer of desire and pride in your eyes when you hear me groan, as I feel your tongue slide down my shaft. “Good girl,” I said as I slide my hands around the back of your head, nesting my fingers into your hair. “Now relax your throat.”
You comply, and when I thrust your head down onto my cock, I can feel the tip of my penis break through the barrier of your throat. “Tongue out” I order. I keep thrusting your head down, until I could feel your tongue brushing against my balls. I hold your head perfectly still and shift my hips back before ramming myself back down your throat. I fuck your throat roughly, with no remorse, until tears were streaming down your face and you start making little lovely choking, gagging noises, until I withdrawal myself. You pull back, gasping and sputtering, fighting to regain your breath. You gather your composure quickly, and return to same position as before, mouth open and eyes locked in mine.
“Good girl. Go to the couch, take off your dress, and bend over the arm. I think you need a few marks to help you remember why you are here.” You slink on your hands and knees, ass seductively begging for abuse, to the living room couch. You stand, peeling off the dress, and lean over the arm, presenting your derrière in the air. I follow behind you, enjoying the view of you on your hands and knees, removing my thick leather belt as I walk. I fold the belt in half, holding it menacingly in one hand. and place my other hand on the small of your back. “Over the next couple of days, when it hurts to sit, and you see the marks I leave on you, I want you to think about this.“ And then I strike. The belt makes a crisp whistling sound in the air, and lands with a gratifying smacking sound across the middle of your left buttcheek. You let out a short yelp, but then clench your teeth tight, determined not to scream.
I apply the belt whipping with fervor to give you what you need: release. I layer your ass, the back of your thighs, the soft spots of your back with a crisscrossing pattern of deep, angry, red stripes. By the twelfth strike you were moaning seductively between clenched teeth. By the thirtieth slap of the belt on your raw skin, you had given up all pretenses, releasing primal screams with every strike. Belt strikes split your stockings open, ruining them, but I keep going, focusing in on your subspace, your hurt, your euphoria of pleasure. There is blood, but I don’t stop, only use finesse to ensure there is no scarring. When you’ve had the right amount, I toss the belt, and rest my hand on your lovely ass. You flinch at first, but relax as you feel my fingers gliding over your hot skin. I unleash one heavy smack with my hand, then rub, caress, before doing it again. I spank every inch of you ass in this fashion, as I enjoy the warmth beneath my hand as blood rushes to the surface forming the evidence of your devotion to me. You’ll be badly bruised tomorrow, purple and black, but it will be worth it.
After your spanking, I slide my hand down your body and between your legs. “You’ve soaked through your panties again I see,” I said with a gentle mocking tone. “Yes sir.” “Good girl. Now stand up.” You stand facing me. I could see a little tremble in your legs from the beating you’ve endured, but you stand resolute, proud, determined for more as I pace a slow circle around you, looking at your welts and bruises. I let my hand graze your skin, following the curve of your back and hips. I stop behind you, unfastened your bra, letting it slide to the ground. I wrapped my arms around you, cupping your fabulous breasts, kissing the back of your neck. I close my hands tight on your tits, squeezing them until you sublimely whimper in pain, then release. Then I slid my hand down your stomach, pushing my fingers beneath your panties until I am massaging your pussy.
I massage your outer lips at first, and I am unsurprised to find you soaking wet. I rub your clit, slowly, then with more momentum, feeling you push back against me. I slide one, then two fingers inside you, your wetness allowing them to penetrate you easily. You gasp quietly at the feel of me inside you, and I felt your body reflexively relax back into me, leaning against me for support. I glide my fingers out of your pussy, and run them over your clit, rubbing gentle little circles, listening to you coo. I remove my hand from your panties and bring my fingers up to my lips, the briefest taste of you. I slide my right hand down to your pussyhole again, twiddling my fingers around your clit, even as I take my left arm and hook it around your throat in a chokehold. I begin to apply pressure, strangling you from behind even as my hand is vibrating across your clit, slowly picking up speed, reading your body, feeling exactly how you react, giving you quick gasps of air when you need it, harder sensations on your body, pulling you close, bodies pressed together, my cock pressed firmly against your backside, aching for attention, your hand gripping the arm of the couch tighter and tight. I feel you getting close, then cumming on my fingers, a delicious sensation of you straining, moaning as I stroke you and choke you, letting you enjoy bliss and lose control.
When you’re done, I release my choke hold on your neck, you take deep gasping breaths, but your reprieve is short. I grab you by the hair and hurl you against the wall of the hotel suite, and follow it up with a savage, biting kiss. I twist, tossing you onto the bed on your back, and pounce on top of you. I grab and tie your right wrist to the bedpost in a quick, efficient slipknot, then your left in the same fashion, leaving you arms spread wide, unable to resist me. There’s enough slack in the rope for you to struggle, but not enough for you to get away. I peel the soaked panties off of you, leaving you naked save for your new collar and a pair of ruined stockings.
I start kissing your body, sharp, biting kisses, from your lips to your neck, to the sensitive, delicate spot where you neck meets your shoulders. Here I paused, to bite, a deep, vicious bite, that’ll leave a bruise, but one you can cover with a scarf. I kiss down lower, tasting your skin, your perfume, your body wash, your desire, another bite on the tender swell of your left breast, then your right breast, a quick peaking kiss on your lips again, then down your body, my nails digging into your skin as I work my way lower, a bite on the upper navel, another on the lower navel, I feel you tensing up, back arching, legs positioning themselves, a long, ferocious bite on your upper thigh, the kind that’ll be bruised for two weeks, a matching bite on the other thigh, you’re spreading your legs, I’m kissing your inner thighs, a sharp pinch, a nip, fingernails instinctively digging into the skin.
I pull back, observe you as you lay sprawled, unable to open your eyes, but with a contented smile on your lips as the waves of your body’s orgasm aftershock still giving you delicate, but amazing sensations, you heaving breaths gently bouncing your breasts. I stroke myself, feeling how rigid and tight my cock feels, ready for you. I mount on top of you, kiss the ticklish spot on your neck, right where the shoulder hits, and slowly slide my cock into your pussyhole. You’re so wet, so rich, but I take my time, just inch by inch.
I get myself deep into you, as deep as your pussy will let me, and I slowly, deliberately slide back out, before slowly sliding all the way back in, pushing myself into you a little more each time, stretching you out a little more each time. I begin to pick up speed, start to go faster, harder into you, letting my inertia and hips do the work, a solid pounding of my cock into your pussy. I feel you reflexively start to cum, your pussy gripping on my shaft tighter, the moans from your lips, but I don’t stop. I keep going, eyes closed, feeling you underneath me, giving in.
I ride your orgasm, like a wave, feeling your body yearning for me, the animalistic need to be taken, and it’s starts to get overwhelming. I speed up my thrusting, my fucking your body, getting closer to spilling in you. When I cum, it’s a momentous release, a deep pulsing of my seed into you, as I feel your body still orgasming.
When I’m done, I pull out of you, cut the ropes that hold your wrists. You’ll find rope burns later, yet another reminder of what happened to you. I climb off you, my penis semi-erect, covered in our combined fluids. There’s a large wet spot on the bed from you, and you are a sweaty, confused, disoriented mess, yet strangely satisfied. I lay flat on the bed, I order you to put your head on my chest and you comply, and I run my fingers though your hair as we rest naked together. I talk to you to slowly, we discuss deep philosophical subjects, bringing you up from subspace slowly, make you kiss me, clean me, thank me, make you offer yourself again to me when I’m ready. I apply aloe to some of the welts on your back, clean some of the bloodier wounds. I quietly praise you, compliment you, make you understand how much I adore you, and as you start to doze, kiss you one last time and promise that the night is young…
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/f4ayrm/how_to_train_your_seelie_his_side_mfbdsmviolent