This isn’t our first time. The electricity between us, though–it makes it feel like anything could happen. You kiss me softly but nibble at my lower lip when you break away, hands finding the hem of my dress. You pull it off of me and drop it to the side of your bed.
I wore black mesh lingerie the last time we saw each other. You asked me to surprise you with my “outfit” this time, so I tried something different–red. The noise you make low in your throat when you see how the lingerie curves around my body tells me I picked well. Your hands are on me, now, kneading my breasts, grazing my nipples where they’ve puckered up through the lace. I wasn’t expecting it when you pinched both my nipples at once. I gasp into your mouth, which is on mine now. We lick each other’s tongues. One hand stays on my right breast and your other sneaks under the waistband of my thong, just grazing my clit. I wonder if we’re about to have vanilla sex. I’m not opposed, just surprised that you wouldn’t want–
Slap. I jump a bit at the unexpected spank on my ass. We’re still kissing, and I’m not expecting the second slap when I feel it hit hard, exactly over your last handprint. It stings. I moan. My tongue was in your mouth, and your teeth close on the tip of it before I can pull away–not enough to hurt, but enough that I start to feel a little helpless. Your eyes are open, and I think you see in my face that I’ve felt our dynamic click into place. You are in charge now. Part of me is afraid of what you’ll ask me to surrender to you, knowing that I’ll do whatever you ask of me.
“Turn around. On your knees. Elbows down.”
You use one finger to push the crotch of my thong aside so that my holes are bare for your inspection. Sorry, Sir. Your holes. I shiver. I feel like an object. It makes me wet, even as I start to wonder whether I’m good enough, whether I’m pretty enough, whether you still want me, stretch marks on display, belly out, defenses down, clever words disappeared in the dark haze you turn my brain into.
“Good girl.”
Your palm runs down my spine to my neck, curving around my throat.
“Sit up.”
Your hand leaves me for a moment and I hear the clinking of metal a second before you wrap the collar around my neck. You buckle it. I exhale. The pressure against my throat, on my arteries feels luxurious. I feel contained. I feel cared for. You don’t collar someone you don’t want to keep. A slow, lazy smile spreads across my face when you make a fist in my hair and draw my head to one side so you can bite the curve where my neck meets my shoulder.
Fuck.
I already want you inside me, fucking me deep, but I don’t start begging yet. I will beg–I have no illusions about that–but I know you like to work for it. You lick the place were you bit me and I settle back down on all fours while you trail your left hand down my back. I imagine your right is dealing with some uncomfortably tight jeans.
You slide my thong down my legs and help me get it the rest of the way off. Now your fingers are back on my pussy, stroking between my lips without sliding in. “So wet for me already,” you say. I shoot you a smile over my shoulder and arch my back a bit more so you have better access. Now two of your fingers are pushing inside my cunt. I would be embarrassed at the wet sounds they make if I didn’t know that it was turning you on.
“Do you like what you see?” I ask with a smirk. I get a hard spank for my trouble.
“Yes, slut,” you say, squeezing my hip. “I like it a lot. Now shut up.”
We both know I’m not going to shut up. But I’ll try. I keep my moans to myself as your hand finally slips down to my clit, rubbing in slow circles. I push back into your hand to show my approval as you alternate between rubbing my clit and finger fucking me–a few pumps into my pussy, stretching it, curving into my g-spot, then as soon as I crave more, back out to circle my clit. Then back. You don’t linger long enough for me to get any satisfaction, only just enough to tease. After a three or four minutes of this I break, moaning when I feel your fingers push inside of me. You stop touching me immediately and my moan turns pleading.
“Did I tell you you could make noise?”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No, Sir.”
“I actually told you to shut up, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but you felt really good… Sir.” My self-preservation instinct isn’t totally gone.
“Fifteen strikes. Count down once I start.”
I feel your weight lift off the bed and hear you walking toward your toy drawer. My pulse picks up a bit thinking about the nasty surprises you keep in there. The paddle with holes in it? No, I haven’t been that bad. And I certainly haven’t been good enough for the flogger. Maybe just the solid wood paddle, then? Your footsteps come back over to the bed, where my ass is still up and waiting, and–whack. A second after you hit me with the cane, the thin line starts burning its way across my ass. “Fourteen,” I remember to say. I start my deep breathing, ready to find a place to put the pain. Your hits ride just below the line of what I know I can handle. I continue counting. You continue hitting.
I go someplace indistinct where the only things that exist are the feelings of the cane strikes and the seconds of reprieve between them.
“Four.”
Almost done.
“Three.”
You slap the cane across the back of my thighs, across one of my tattoos, which makes it sting like a bitch. I gasp.
“Two.”
The next strike hits the meat of my ass and lands on a stripe you’ve already given me. My eyes water.
“One.”
I tense up waiting for the hardest hit yet and instead receive a tap with the cane across my shoulders. I hear you put it down next to the bed and the soft rustling of you taking off tour clothes. Suddenly your hands are gently rubbing the red marks you made on my ass, stroking and kneading and relaxing me out of the tension from my punishment. “That’s my good girl,” you tell me, still touching my ass. “All done. How was that?”
“Hard. Good. I’m okay.”
“You did a good job.”
“Thank you, Sir.” I smile.
The endorphins from the cane are making me feel loose and relaxed. Your hands slide up to unhook my bra and help me out of it. I’m naked now except for the collar. Your hands are back to squeeze my breasts and play with my nipples. I sigh happily.
Now you’re flipping me on my back and I can finally see you–naked, eyes hooded, cock out and hard, staring me down. I lay still, watching you, wishing you would bend down to kiss me, and you do just that. Your lips graze over mine and I try to chase them, but you’re kissing down my jaw to my neck, sucking and licking at someplace sensitive you’ve already found. You’re spending a long time nuzzling my neck around my collar and tracing my body with your fingertips and not enough time where I need you. My hips buck up into you and you thrust down, the friction of the sheets on my tender ass only making me wetter. My nails dig into your back. You’re not giving me what I want. It’s time to beg.
“Please.”
No response from where your lips are making their way to the other side of my neck.
“Please fuck me.”
I thrust into you. Nothing. Your weight lifts off me slightly and I feel you kissing your way down to a nipple, licking a circle around it with your eyes on me. You like watching me squirm.
“Please what?” you say.
“Please fuck me, Sir. I need your cock.”
“Where do you need it?”
“In my pussy.”
“Beg, slut.” You’re kneeling between my legs now, teasing my cunt with the head of your cock.
“Please please please, I need this, I need you. I need you in me, Sir–”
At that you enter me, one smooth, slow thrust and you’re balls deep. My head falls back and my eyes shut as I moan something unintelligible, and then your mouth is on mine. I can tell now that you’re not feeling as aloof as you’ve been acting. You kiss me hard while I frantically kiss back and match you thrust for thrust. Our eyes open.
“You needed this, didn’t you, slut?”
“Mhmm. And you needed to fuck your slut, didn’t you, Sir?” I end the question on an “Mmmph!” as your cock hits a sensitive spot inside me.
“Yes,” you say, fucking me harder.
“I.” Thrust.
“Did.” Thrust.
I’m smiling, feeling you inside me, knowing I can be bold with you now that we’re both where we want to be. We kiss while we fuck. My hands start to wander and I grab the back of your neck with one hand and leave light scratch marks down your shoulder blade with the other. That’s when you push my arms off of you and hold my hands over my head with one of your own. We’re both sweating as your pace picks up and I know you’re getting close.
“Where do you want it?” you ask me, breathless.
“You know where I need it.”
“Say it.”
“Inside me. I need your cum inside me. Please.”
“Are you ready for me to fill you?”
I swear I lose my mind just a little bit when I know I’m about to take your cum. My pussy clenches around you, and I know you feel it. Your cock throbs back.
“Yes. Fuck yes. Please.”
The groan you make when you cum is the one of the most erotic things I’ve heard. My already soaking pussy fills with your cum as I squeeze your cock, feeling it throb, watching your face while you empty yourself inside me. I almost cum just from knowing how full I am of you. You’re still on top of me, and we’re still breathing hard when we kiss, slow and deep. You kiss my forehead when we break apart and you pull out of me, laying on your back next to me and drawing me into cuddle with you.
“Was that any good, Sir?” I smirk at you.
You slap my cheek teasingly, more of a tap. “Yes, slut. That was good.”
I think I drift off then, you playing with my hair, and me wondering which hole you’re going to fill for round two.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/t631cs/full_mf_ds_bdsm
very well written, great job!