The whisk scraped harshly against the side of the bowl, echoing throughout the still house. Rain pattered on the windows, in the typical northwest fashion, with a steamy haze on the windows betraying the chill in the air outside. Within these four walls however, all was toasty and warm. Emma hummed to herself as she poured the last of the filling into the pie shell and began to weave together the strips of crust on top.
She wore teal panties which clung to and revealed glimpses of her pert ass within the twisting straps and a simple white apron that did little to keep her bosom from bursting forth, confident that her actions in the kitchen would rouse him from slumber soon enough. Aside from those two items, she only wore her collar, a simple leather affair, designed for play more so than fashion. The house was filled with the scent of cinnamon, with just the slightest hint of brown sugar making itself known. Flour coated her hands, with little puffs of powder along her abdomen and thighs where she’d been careless in wiping away excess. Her long hair was bound up in a simple ponytail to keep it out of the way.
The creak of the door was unmistakable. Emma froze, feeling her body tense with anticipation. Feeling coy, she stayed facing the pie with her body bent ever so slightly forward to accentuate her curves. His footsteps drew closer, and she leaned slightly more, putting weight on the balls of her feet as she felt a shiver run through her at the thought of his hands upon her frame. Emma could feel herself flush with desire, the need to be his growing within her.
In a flash, his hand was upon her, a firm slap driving her body forwards and up. Emma’s fingers found purchase on the tile counter as his hand dug into the soft flesh of her behind. With one hand he kneaded and massaged her cheek, while she could hear the other rummage in the cabinets for a mug which he then filled with coffee. Emma could feel the blush crossing her cheeks, he knew she loved it when he used her like this, treating her like an inanimate object that existed only for his pleasure.
His fingers released her ass, and Emma smiled as she felt a very satisfying wobble of her curves bouncing back into place. Then she winced, exhaling sharply, as his hand found her other cheek, digging his fingertips in roughly. His grip was like a vice, manhandling her as he casually sipped coffee off to the side. Emma could feel her legs willing themselves apart, feel the way she was melting into the counter, her legs going weak beneath the onslaught of his fingers. As he pawed at her his pinky finger stretched out until it grazed against her labia, undoubtedly feeling how soaked she was.
Just as quick as it appeared, his hand vanished. But this time his arm weaved its way around her neck, his beard brushing against her shoulder, as his pinky finger forced its way into her mouth. Her senses were overwhelmed with the weight of his body pressing into her, the taste of her own desire, and his scent filling her mind with fantasies of what was to come. Emma found it hard to focus, her knees going weak as she let him hold her up, feeling the crook of his arm tighten around her throat. The pressure was slight, but the effect was instantaneous, Emma’s body responding to the choking with a flush of desire.
He squeezed her, wrapping himself around Emma in an embrace that was equal parts loving and menacing. Then he loosened his hold and stepped back, one hand pushing her shoulders forward while the other adjusted her hips so that she was bent forward and presenting her ass to him. From the corner of her eye Emma saw him grab a wooden spoon off the counter, still dusted with flour from her baking.
She could hear the warning swoosh as the spoon cut through the air and braced herself for its impact but it was too little, too late. The spoon thudded into her ass, the pain starting at one point and swiftly spreading out to the edges of the impact. His wrist flicked in quick, sharp motions bringing the spoon down over and over. Each impact was in a new place, but there was no rhyme or rhythm to the way he spread them out across her ass. Emma could feel the warmth building within her pussy at the way he was wordlessly controlling her. Her knees grew weak as she moaned and squealed in pain with just a hint of pleasure.
Without question, he was thorough. Her ass was blanketed in a barrage of abuse, tufts of flour rising up on occasion when he found a spot where she’d wiped her hands earlier. From top to bottom he beat both of her cheeks until they were a deep crimson. Then he tossed the spoon aside where it clattered noisily, before he wrapped a hand up in her hair and forced her to the floor. It was all she could do to avoid catching her head on the counter as she collapsed onto her knees in an awkward pile.
As she tried to gather herself and straighten up, his hand twisted further, his control over her head now absolute. Emma was always obedient, but she now had no say in the matter. Her head was only going where he wanted it to go. The bead of precum dripping from the head of his cock left no doubt as to what would come next. His hand jerked on her hair, forcing her mouth forward. She was more than willing to give him head, but he was relentless nonetheless, forcing his cock passed her lips and deep into her throat. Emma felt her body go rigid, her gag reflex kicking in at the sensation of him taking her.
She steadied herself on the floor, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as she forced herself to make eye contact with him. Then the assault began. His hips pushed forward, driving her back into the cabinets. Her head was pinned against the door of a cabinet, his hand locking her in place, as his cock began to drive in and out of her throat at a ferocious pace. She fought valiantly against her gag reflex, something she was normally able to tame, but the speed and ferocity at which he was fucking her face was overwhelming. Emma gagged, spittle and drool leaking from the corners of her mouth to slide down her chin and coat her breasts. Her choking only seemed to encourage him, his pace becoming even more reckless, the back of her head making a rhythmic thunking sound as he drove it into the cabinet door.
Emma stopped fighting against him, giving in to the onslaught of his cock as he facefucked her with abandon. She found her focus, happy to be of use to her Master, and closed her eyes as a blissful calm washed over her. Doing her best to smile around his cock, she opened her mouth as wide as possible and let him take her. He grunted, a wordless expression of pleasure, as he continued to force himself deep into her throat.
She could feel the tension increasing in him, having become adept at reading how close he was to orgasm after months of practice. As his pace slowed ever so slightly she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, her eyes locked on his with a hunger she knew would push him over the edge. With his hand wrapped tightly in her hair he thrust again, pushing every inch of his manhood into her mouth, then locking her in place and holding her still. She gagged in spite of herself, struggling to draw breath around a throatful of cock. Her eyes never left his, never wavered, even as the tears poured down her cheeks.
Then her throat was empty as he slipped his cock free. Her surprise that he hadn’t finished lasted only a moment, for then he had used her hair to force her back to her feet. Once again she was bent over the kitchen counter, her juicy ass subject to another round of spanking. This time, his right hand rained down blows on her ass while his left slipped between her thighs and found her clit. Emma’s body was on fire, his touch sending sparks coursing her. He knew exactly where and how to touch her, his fingers deftly teasing her clit while his other hand brought vicious punishment to her tender ass. She could feel the orgasm building within her, feel the explosion of pleasure welling up inside of her.
And then, just like that, it was gone. And she was back on her knees on the tile, his cock smeared across her face leaving a trail of precum and drool. He slapped her face, rocking her head to the side, and then thrust his way back into her throat. It was slower this time, he seemed to be savoring the sensation of having her wrapped around his manhood. Each thrust was more purposeful, making sure that every inch of his cock was buried inside of her mouth before withdrawing and restarting the cycle. Emma moaned around his cock, tempted to reach a hand down between her legs but certain of the consequences if he caught her doing so.
Then she was on her feet again, her legs gone wobbly after being pent up beneath her in a heap. His hands were precise, finding the early bruises and targeting them, hitting her in the same place again and again as she cried out. Her moans and yelps became indistinguishable, one long, unbroken cry of pleasure and pain brought forth by his unyielding hands. She was his clay to form and mold as he saw fit, she was his fucktoy to use as he pleased, she was-both in mind and in practice-thoroughly his.
Once more he threw her to the ground, once more he pinned her to the wall by forcing his cock into her throat. But this time was different. She could sense the urgency in the short thrusts of his cock, the way he kept most of his length in her throat. His earlier thrusts had been long, each time he had pulled free from Emma’s lips before slamming back. This time he was more desperate, his hand clinging tightly to her scalp as he skullfucked her. His breath came in grunts and gasps, she could feel her own need building, she was so desperate to touch her clit but dared not draw his disapproval today.
He exploded with a roar, thick streams of cum barreling down her throat. Emma coughed, gagging on the load, choking back tears as she fought her instincts and swallowed each burst of cum that he sent forth. His hand held Emma firmly in place, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything other than act as his cumdump, drinking every last drop. Her tongue moved quickly, gathering any stray drops as he finished, his cock twitching as it grew limp in her mouth. Wordlessly he slid back; Emma gasped for air as his cock popped free from her jaw. Cum and spit ran down her cheeks, a few droplets coating an errant strand of dark hair than clung to her shoulder.
He dropped to one knee, shooting a hand between her legs. Emma parted her knees with a smile, excited to feel his touch. His fingers found her clit and began to rub small circles against her sensitive flesh, instantly drawing forth a series of delighted moans from Emma. She was breathless, every muscle in her body tensing for the orgasm she knew was forthcoming. Her legs trembled beneath her, her breasts heaved with each breath, her eyes were rolling to the back of her head. Any moment now and she would explode, she could feel the need and desire pent up within her, feel the torrent of pleasure waiting to crash down once his fingers danced just a little bit more, just like that.
And then he was gone. Or, at least, his hands. He’d stood up, towering over her with that wicked grin on his face.
“You don’t get to cum. Not yet.”
Then he picked up his coffee and walked out to the couch, whistling a melody to himself while Emma crossed her arms and sighed in frustration.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/5ffm9k/adventures_in_aquamarine_mdom_fsub_bdsm