By the time we made it to the cabin, I was practically shaking with excitement. My first encounter with this man was amazing. I loved the way that he had controlled me, the way that he had ordered me around, the way that he had edged me and then forced such an intense orgasm from me. I had felt helpless, an extreme contradiction to who I was in real life. I was a powerful businesswoman, a woman who didn’t take shit from anyone, who worked for what she had and got what she wanted. Before tonight, I had never let anyone tell me what to do, but here I was, exhilarated and eager for more.
Once we pulled into the driveway and he turned the car off, he got out and opened my door for me, offering his hand and helping me outside. He led me to the door, his hand never letting go of mine as he unlocked it. He opened the door, revealing a surprisingly modern home. The interior was open and stylish in comparison to the woodsy, rustic exterior. He led me through the living room and down the hall, and finally stopped at a door at the very end of the hall. He turned to look at me before opening it, his eyes slightly concerned. “*Do you remember the rules?”* I nodded my head, excited to see what else was in store for the night. *“Are you absolutely sure?”* I nodded again. “*Remember,”* he started. *“If at any point you want to stop-” “Call the safeword, I know,”* I interrupted, reaching for the door. I turned the handle and swung it open, revealing a room that looked like it was out of *50 Shades of Grey.* There were paddles hanging on the wall, along with other tools that I didn’t recognize. I stepped past him and into the room, looking around, taking everything in. There was a bed against one wall, but no blankets or pillows in sight. There were, however, plenty of places on the bed that could be used for different forms of bondage. All of the walls had some sort of “toys” on them: floggers, crops, rope, blindfolds, shelves full of vibrators, dildos, and butt plugs, even a display of knives. While I was still taking everything in, I felt him behind me, and before I had a chance to turn around to face him, he had a handful of my hair and was pushing me to my knees.
He circled me like I was prey, over and over again, his eyes hungry and animalistic as they scanned me up and down. *“So,”* he began, his tone amused. *“Since you were so anxious to get in here, what would you like to start with?”*
*“I-I don’t know, Sir.”* His tone made me feel small, like a kid who had gotten in trouble. *“There’s so much.”*
*“Hm,”* he chuckled. *“How about we start by getting you out of that dress.”* He grabbed my hair again and pulled me to my feet. As I started to reach around to my back, he unzipped it in one swift motion, letting it fall into a puddle at my feet. Without the dress, I stood in front of him in my bra and high heels. No panties, as he had requested before this weekend had even begun. He reached behind me and unclipped my bra, letting that fall too. Now I was completely exposed, and I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter by the second. He looked me up and down one last time, and began walking towards the bed, dragging me by the hair with him. I stumbled to keep up, but he didn’t stop. Once we reached the edge of the bed, he let go of my hair and shoved me onto the soft, pillowy mattress. I watched as he walked around the room, examining the walls, trying to decide which implement he was going to introduce me to first. *“Eenie meenie miney mo,”* he chanted tauntingly as he moved around the room, touching different tools. The longer he took to decide, the more anxious I became. I knew that’s why he was dragging it out, he was trying to make me anxious, making me wait while I wondered what he would do to me. It was working, there were so many things going through my head. Was he going to use something to hit me? Or was he going to use the vibrators to overstimulate me, like I had seen in porn. What were the knives for? Was he going to use them on me? What would he do with them?
Finally, he landed on a blindfold, the least scary thing in this room. He gently placed the silky fabric over my eyes and tied it around the back of my head. Once it was on, I realized that it was not the least scary object in this room, it was the most. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t see where he was or what he was doing, I wouldn’t be able to see the next tool he grabbed. I couldn’t prepare myself for what would be happening. Fear started to rise in my chest, but I pushed it back down. I asked for this. I asked for a weekend to explore BDSM, to explore my kinky side, to do things that I would never normally do. As I pushed the fear down, I noticed that I had gotten even wetter since he had taken away my sight.
I heard him moving around the room, and I tried to remember the placement of everything that I had seen, trying to place him. I couldn’t, though, so I began to focus on the sounds of him touching his toys. I recognized the sound of him tapping on wood, and realized that he was at the paddles. Again, fear gripped me for just a second, before arousal took its place. Arousal at the idea that he would soon be spanking me. Impact was something that I liked watching in porn, but I had never thought that I would like it happening to me. Here I was, though, dripping at the thought of it. After a few minutes, I heard his footsteps coming toward me, presumably after having chosen his weapon of choice. I felt his presence as he got closer and closer to me, until he finally reached the edge of the bed and stood against my dangling legs.
He grabbed my chin, his grip firm but gentle, and tilted my head up. His lips touched mine, and he kissed me for just a moment before pulling away, leaving me wanting more. I felt him move from in front of me, and just a second later, felt his weight climb onto the bed behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me towards him. *“Move up,”* he commanded, his voice forceful, like it had been in the car. I obeyed, scooting backwards on the bed, following his guidance. Once I had made it to what I assume was the top of the bed, he pushed me down, prompting me to lay down.
*“Turn over.”*
I did.
*“Bring your arms above your head.”*
I did. He put his hand back onto my shoulder and ran the tips of his fingers down my arm, all the way to my own fingertips, the gentle touch sending chills throughout my entire body. Once he reached the end of my hand, he began wrapping a coarse, scratchy cord around my wrists, binding them together, then tying them to the headboard of the bed.
*“Spread your legs.”*
I did. I felt his weight move down to the end of the bed, running his fingertips over my back, my asscheeks, down my legs. By the time he reached my feet, I was covered in goosebumps and was trembling in anticipation. He wrapped the same scratchy cord around each of my ankles, binding them to each side of the footboard, keeping my legs spread almost as far as they could go. When he was done tying my ankles, I felt him get off the bed entirely, but I could still feel his eyes on me. I felt vulnerable and exposed, I was vulnerable and exposed. I was at this man’s mercy, he had permission to do almost anything to me, outside of a few hard limits that I had made very clear in the early stages of our negotiations.
I don’t know how long I laid there, my bare ass on display, until I finally felt him move beside me again, but this time, he did not climb onto the bed. Instead, I felt the sensation of something touching my ankle, right above the rope. The object stayed there for just a moment, before moving up my leg, stopping just before it reached my ass, then moving to the other leg and doing the same thing. The object was two or three inches long, thin, and had a leather-like feel to it. As it reached the bottom of my ass the second time, he suddenly brought it up from my skin and smacked it onto one of my cheeks. The sting was intense, making me tense up as he brought it down in the same spot again. And again. I could feel my ass reddening underneath the tool, the stinginess making tears try to well up in my eyes. I pushed them back down and took a deep breath as he moved to the other cheek, bringing it down again and again. I buried my face into the silky sheets to stifle my whimpers of pain. Finally, he stopped and I heard him set the tool down and climb onto the bed between my legs.
*“That was a riding crop. What did you think,”* he asked as he began rubbing where he had hit. His touch soothed the hurt a little bit, but the kisses that he began placing all over my stinging skin soothed it more.
*“I didn’t like that very much,”* I said, being completely honest with him. *“The first few hits were good, but after that, it started hurting a lot.”*
*“So you don’t like stingy, good to know,*” he muttered against my skin. He continued kissing all over, working his way inward, toward my center. Once he had kissed everywhere that he was hit, he raised back up onto his knees and wrapped his hands around my hips. He pulled them back toward him, raising my ass in the air and pulling all of the ropes that were attached to me as tight as they could go. *“Don’t move, baby,”* he whispered, and I nodded in response. He started kissing again, this time the backs of my thighs, working his way up. He moved up and around to the inside of my thighs and continued moving up, but avoiding where I really wanted him. The teasing was making me wetter and wetter, the anticipation driving me crazy. I tried to reposition myself, trying to lower myself to meet his mouth, but I received a hard slap on my still hurting ass. I felt him straighten up again and push my hips back down, flattening me out again. He reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head up. His other hand quickly followed, wrapping around my throat.
*“What the fuck was that,”* he asked, accusation lacing his voice.
*“What do you mean Sir,”* I responded, thinking back to when he told me not to touch him and not to touch myself unless he told me to.
*“You know what I mean, you useless fucking whore. Trying to get me to move because you’re an impatient fucking slut.”* For some reason, his words made me want to cower and hide, but they also made the heat between my legs grow even hotter.
*“I’m-I’m sorry.”* I was genuinely sorry, disappointing this man was the last thing that I wanted to do. I knew I shouldn’t care that much about it, this was a business transaction that was about me wanting a new experience, there was no emotional connection, there was no reason for me to want to please him so badly. Maybe this was part of it, though. Maybe these feelings that were so unlike me were all a part of the experience, and they’d all be gone by Sunday night when we went our separate ways.
*“Don’t apologize to me,”* he said, sounding almost smug. *“I’m not the one that’s missing out on cumming.”* Disappointed and anger towards myself filled me. Why did I have to move? Why couldn’t I just let him do his thing? *“Now,”* I could hear the smile as he spoke. *“I get to punish you.”* He stood up off the bed again and I heard his footsteps move across the room. He returned a few moments later, stopping and standing beside the bed again. I began to brace myself, ready for more stinging pain. Instead, the tool that he brought down onto my ass was heavy, and I could feel the pain from it deep in my body, in my muscles. It was rectangular, wide enough to cover a lot of area, and it felt wooden. It was a paddle, that wasn’t hard to figure out. Another blow followed the first by only a few seconds, this one harder. Then another, and another, each harder than the last, each strike hitting deep in my muscles, and I felt myself getting more and more wet with each hit. This was going to bruise, I could feel it. I imagined my ass black and blue, and to my surprise, the thought turned me on even more.
I don’t know how many times he hit me, I stopped counting after 20. When he was finally done, though, I heard the thud of him putting the paddle down. He climbed back on the bed, between my legs again, and began rubbing the sore places of my ass. I wondered if it was already starting to bruise, or if I was going to have to wait to see the marks.
*“Was that any better,”* he asked. He had a mocking undertone to his voice, as if he was making fun of me for not liking the riding crop.
*“Yes Sir,”* I answered. *“I liked that a lot better.”*
*“I’m glad, baby. That makes me really happy.”* I smiled at his words. I made him happy. It was a strange feeling, wanting so badly to please someone when I had never cared about that before. Right now, though, it was all I wanted. *“Do you want a reward for taking your punishment like a good girl,”* he asked, and I nodded enthusiastically.
*“Yes please Sir.”*
Without another word, he got off of the bed and I heard him move across the room and begin moving stuff around. I had no idea which area of the room he was in, so I was clueless on what he might be getting. I didn’t know which of his tools he might consider to be a reward, despite racking my brain. After a couple of minutes, he returned to his spot between my legs, raising my hips again. He ran his fingers along my folds, dipping his fingers into me, and quickly removing them. The action was just enough to make me need more, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to not push my hips back onto him. I felt him moving between my legs, repositioning himself. Within seconds, I felt his mouth on my thighs again, and it became even more difficult to stay still. I knew that I would be in even more trouble if I moved again, but he was moving so, so slowly, I could barely stand it. It felt like an eternity before he finally reached my pussy, and between him hitting me and the anticipation of his mouth on me, I was dripping by the time he did. He ran his tongue over my wet slit once, and then suddenly pulled away and straightened up. Disappointment overcame me again, this time mixed with confusion. That was my reward? More teasing? As I tried to rationalize what he had done, I felt a hard, cold object pushing against my entrance. As he pushed it into me, I heard a click, and the object responded. The vibrations resonated inside of me, almost making me cum. A few seconds passed before he pressed another cold object against me, this one against my clit. He turned the vibrator on, and soon found a setting that made me feel like I was on fire.
He set the vibrator where it would stay against my clit, and he moved up the bed. His fingers wrapped around my throat again and he leaned in until his mouth was against my ear. *“You’re going to cum for me, baby,”* he whispered, his words pushing me even closer to orgasm. *“Over and over and over.”* He chuckled as he spoke the last words, his amusement clear. He brushed his lips against my ear, the sensation pushing me over the edge. I exploded against the vibrators, bucking my hips, trying to get away from the vibrations. I was so sensitive that the vibrations hurt, but in a good way. My body was still trying to get some relief, just a few seconds to recover, but it was pointless. I was stuck in the position I was in, and he wasn’t going to move them. He wanted them to stay exactly where they were, exactly where they would make me cum for him, over and over and over.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/vu7gpd/the_weekend_part_2_mf_impact
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