The Wedding [Mf], [light bdsm]

This is part of a series of stories my wife and I are writing, documenting our forays into bdsm over the last year or so. This one is actually a combination of several evenings, rolled into one story for better flow. Feedback is welcome.

Mila sat in her chair, barely listening to the sappy speech from the groom’s brother and best man.  Ok, we get it, your little brother is amazing, She thought, Wrap it up.  She was happy enough for the newlyweds, and the ceremony had been nice, but at the moment she didn’t care about any of that – she was completely focused on him.  

Her Sir sat halfway turned from her in his chair, respectfully listening to the speech.  He held a half-full flute of champagne in his left hand. His right wrist rested on Mila’s knee, a couple of his fingers lightly touching her calf.  A slight tingle radiated from each point of contract, as if she were brushing against bare wires on a low voltage circuit.

She had been trying to ignore the increasingly urgent signals from her bladder for a while.  She had been just about to ask permission to go relieve herself when the bride’s father stood up to begin his speech, so she had waited.  Now, 20 minutes later, the wine and champagne were working through her system, increasing her need. This better be over soon, or I’m just going to have to get up and walk to the bathroom in the middle of the speech.

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, her breasts grazing his forearm.  “I really need to pee.”

He looked at her with a slight sparkle in his eye.  “Hold it. Cross your legs,” he whispered back.

“It’s not really comfortable to do that.  I’m sore from last night.”

“Good.  Do it anyway.  You don’t have permission to go yet.”  His voice was stern, but she saw the corner of his lip curl up just a bit as he resisted the urge to smile.

She crossed her left leg over her right, groaning slightly as the ache in her vagina and reminded her of the wonderful things he had done to her in the hotel room the night before.  She could feel herself getting wet, remembering how it felt; her legs up over his shoulders, his bruising thrusts, his saliva-moistened thumb against her clitoris.

He put his hand on her knee, then slowly slid it up the outside of her left thigh and paused at the hem of her dress, which had shifted upward toward her hip when she crossed her legs.  He felt along the top of the hem for a moment, then worked his fingers below the fabric. Mila had a moment of panic, and tried to look around to see whether anyone was looking at them. As best she could tell, no one was.  They can’t see below the edge of the table, she thought to herself.  No one can see what he’s doing.  As if he could hear her thoughts, his hand began to move again, to the bottom of her thigh, then inched higher, higher.  She uncrossed her legs, giving him access to her wet pussy. Suddenly she could feel his fingers, just grazing her labia through the thin lace of her panties.  She drew a deep breath as she tried to keep her composure.

He continued, lightly stroking her through the fabric.  She closed her eyes and balled her hands into fists in her lap.  Her breath quickened, as did her pulse. She could feel the warm tension building with each stroke of his fingers. She wished that he would stop teasing, just pull her panties aside and push his fingers into her throbbing pussy.  She bit her lip and barely suppressed a low moan. She wanted to scream.  She wanted him to stop. She wanted to slap him. She wanted him to bend her over the table and fuck her in front of the whole room. His fingers began to move a little bit faster. She could feel the pressure building deep inside her; building, building, as he stroked her. If he kept doing this she wasn’t going to be able to hold it much longer…

Suddenly the room erupted in applause.  Mila opened her eyes. Sir pulled his hand away and began to clap, looking toward the center of the room.  The speech was over. She glanced at Sir’s hands as he clapped: his right middle finger glistened with the juices that had soaked through her panties. She felt an empty ache between her legs and low in her belly. She wanted to finish what He so brazenly started.

“Now you may go to the restroom. I’ll walk with you,” he said, leaning close to her. He stood, placed one hand on the back of her seat . He pulled the chair out for her to stand up.  With his other hand, he firmly grasped her arm just above her elbow and helped her to her feet. She could smell herself on him. They begin to make their way across the room.  He kept her close to him as they wound their way through the tables, guiding her with a hand placed on the back of her neck.  Walking this close together, occasionally her elbow bumped against his coat pocket, resulting in a muffled clink. She was glad she had asked him to bring the handcuffs tonight; it was a constant reminder of what he had promised to do to her when they returned to the hotel room later.

They rounded the hallway corner, walked past the closed coat check door and approached the ladies room.  She could hear a couple of the bridesmaids in a raucous conversation behind them, most likely heading in the same direction.  Sir stopped and stepped to one side of the hallway, pulling her with him. She looked at him expectantly. He paused for a moment to let the bridesmaids walk past them into the restroom.  As the door swung shut, he quickly pushed Mila against the wall, pressed his body to hers. He kissed her hard, putting one hand on the side of her face.

Before she could begin to find her balance and return the kiss, he broke it off, and leaned in to whisper to her: “take your panties off while you’re in there.  Bring them out and give them to me.” Then he turned and ushered her toward the ladies room, his hand at the small of her back.  He pulled the door open for her. “I’ll be waiting,” he said as the door closed behind her.

Mila took a deep breath, smoothed the front of her dress, and looked around the dark restroom.  Older lady, washing her hands at the sink, didn’t look up. The two bridesmaids who had just entered were loudly continuing their conversation from the stalls.  Mila strode across the room to an empty stall, or rather she attempted to stride; she was so on-edge that she didn’t entirely trust her knees to support her.

She entered the stall, pulled her panties down around her ankles, and sat on the toilet.  She sighed audibly as she emptied her bladder, finally relieving the pressure. She remembered her instructions, leaned over and pulled her panties off over her heels.  

She felt a twinge of excitement as she balled the thin lacy fabric up in her hand; a chill that started with her scalp, ran down the back of her neck, raised goosebumps on her back as the muscles along her spine tightened.  The sensation reached the base of her spine, causing the powerful muscles in her vagina and anus to contract involuntarily. She stifled a gasp, hoping no-one heard; the bridesmaids were now at the sink, still talking loudly.  She could feel the dampness in the underwear she now held in her hand, could smell the scent of her sex. She had emptied her bladder, and with one physical need met, the remaining urge was almost overpowering.

She slid a hand down between her legs, grazing the neatly trimmed hair of her pubis.  She paused, two fingers resting against her labia. She knew that if she just parted her lips, just put a little pressure on her clitoris, that’s all it would take.  She was almost there already. I can’t.  Not here, not in the bathroom.  Not without His permission.  She imagined him standing there in the stall with her, looming over her with a slight grin.  “Go ahead,” she imagined him saying, “put both fingers in your wet cunt for me. I want to watch you come.”

She felt another quiver in her vaginal muscles at the thought of Sir commanding her.  She almost climaxed right then without any physical stimulation. She let out a low moan and then quickly tried to steady her breathing to hold off her orgasm.  Surely he wouldn’t punish me for coming if I’m not even touching myself?  She mused.  

Just then, there was a gentle knock at the stall door.  “Hey, you ok? Have too much to drink?” One of the bridesmaids.  

Mila cleared her throat.  “No, I’m fine thanks,” she said, hearing the shakiness in her own voice.  “Just cramps.”

“Oh, OK.  We heard you groaning, thought you might be getting ready to puke.  Hope you feel better!”

With that, Mila could hear two pairs of heels walking across the tile, the music suddenly filling the room as the door opened, then back to a muffled bassline as it swung closed again.  She quickly finished up, went to the sink and washed her hands. She looked herself over in the mirror – nothing looked out of place. A little flushed maybe. She looked at how the dark purple dress accentuated her breasts, clung to her hips.  “Hell, I look pretty fucking hot,” she thought as she turned to walk out the door.

She pushed the door open and stepped out confidently into the hallway, into the loudly thumping dance music that was emanating from the ballroom.  He was standing there, leaning up against the wall between the ladies’ room door and the coat room. He looked up at her with a mischievous grin.

“Do you have something for me, darling?” he asked, and put out his hand.

Up until that moment, she’d had every intention of handing him the damp underwear when she came out.  When she saw his grin, however, she suddenly changed her mind. She put both hands behind her back.

“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t, Sir.” She said with a grin of her own.

His look became more stern, but the smile didn’t fade completely.  “Well, in that case…” he began as he glanced back up the hallway. Seeing no one, he quickly stepped away from the wall, grabbed her firmly by her upper arm, swung open the nearby door, and pushed her into the darkness.

It took her a few seconds to begin to process what had just happened.  There was a faint light coming from somewhere, but her eyes weren’t adjusted yet.  He still had a firm grip on her arm, and she could feel him draw himself up behind her.  He grabbed her other arm and pulled her back toward him with both hands, pressing his body into hers.  Her hands, still clutching the panties, were sandwiched between her back and his stomach. She could feel the firmness of his chest pressed against her back, the strength in his legs against the backs of her thighs, the weight of his hardening cock pressing against her butt through the dress and his pants.  He leaned his head forward so his lips were just touching her ear. “Don’t make a fucking sound.” He hissed. “If you won’t give me what’s mine, then I’ll just have to take it.”

She heard the clink of metal.  Suddenly he grabbed her left wrist and pulled her hand up and away, upward and over her head, to rest against a metal bar.  He snapped the handcuffs around her wrist, passed them over the bar, then quickly, roughly, brought her other arm around and up.  Another click of the handcuffs.  She instinctively pulled at them; she could slide them back and forth a bit on the bar, but she was stuck with her hands above her, the panties still in her right hand.

“Now, we don’t have a lot of time,” he said, pulling back from her.  “So I’ll have to keep this quick. This will not be the end of the matter.”  He reached up and snatched the lacy underwear from her hand. “Now, do you believe you deserve punishment?”

“Yes, Sir”

“Why do you deserve to be punished?”

“Because I’m a baaad girl” she said with a giggle.

There was a loud smack and a bright blush of pain from the back of her thigh, just below the hem of her dress.  “You are a bad girl.  And sassy. But tell me why you’re a bad girl.”  She couldn’t make out his face in the darkness yet, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

“I disobeyed.  I must do as my Sir commands me.”

“That’s right, Miláček.  Now that I know you understand why you’re being punished, I don’t need you to talk any more.  Open your mouth.” She opened her mouth, tilting her head back slightly. He grabbed her by her hips and turned her around to face him, then roughly stuffed the balled up panties into her mouth, shoving them to the back of her throat with his thumb.  She could taste herself, salty, musky. Her mind wanted to recoil at the sensation, at the knowledge that he had just put dirty underwear in her mouth.  Her body told a different story; her vagina throbbed again and she could feel her juices just beginning to run down her leg.

He pushed one foot forward against the inside of her right foot, shoved it outward to spread her legs apart.  His left hand dropped from her face to rest around her neck, firmly gripping her, but not choking. The other hand dropped, slid up under the front of her dress.  She moaned through the makeshift gag as he jammed two fingers directly into her sopping-wet pussy. She leaned forward, putting her forehead against his shoulder. It forced her arms backwards painfully, but even that had a delicious twinge to it.

“You’re so fucking wet, darling,” he said as he began thrusting his fingers in and out of her, “You like this, don’t you, you dirty little slut?”

“Mmmmm, hmmmph” was all she could manage.  The pressure was quickly building again. He squeezed her throat slightly, and quickened the pace with his fingers.  She breathed deeply through her nose, the heat and pressure building.

Maintaining his grip on her throat, he pushed her head back and lifted her chin so she was looking into his eyes.  “Don’t make another sound until you’re ready to ask permission to come” he said. “Understand?”

She nodded as best she could.  Sir shifted his attention back down to where his other hand was working diligently.  He was grinding his palm against her swollen clitoris, as he continued fucking her with his fingers.  Her eyes fluttered closed. He kept thrusting his fingers, rubbing her with his palm, faster and faster.  Then, a third finger entered her, stretching her, filling her. She moaned through the gag.

“What’s that, darling?  Are you asking to come?”

“Mmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmph” she answered, lifting her head and nodding quickly.

“Not yet.”  He stepped back, abruptly releasing her throat and pulling his fingers out of her, leaving her empty.  “You don’t come until I tell you to. You don’t come until you earn it. And you will.” He raised his right hand to his face, inhaled deeply through his nose.  “God, I love the smell of you. How do you like it?” He reached forward and wiped his hand on her face. She tried to shake her head and get away, but it was futile.  He took his hand away, leaving her inhaling her own scent.

He kept his eyes on her as he untied his tie, then grabbed her dress and thrust it up over her head, up her arms.  He wrapped his tie around her forearms, trapping the dress so it hung over her face. Her eyes had just gotten used to the dim room, and now she was in total darkness again.  He then grabbed her strapless bra and dragged it downward off of her breasts. The nipples, already erect, hardened even more as the cool air caressed them. He reached out and firmly squeezed her tits with both hands, then brought his fingers down to her nipples, twisting, squeezing.  He released her nipples, and slapped both her breasts, causing her to let out a muffled groan. He paused, leaned in to whisper, “In the interest of full disclosure, I snuck in here earlier to see if this room would be suitable. I was going to get you in here, just like this, one way or another.”

He kissed her neck, then stepped back. There was a clink of metal as he removed his belt.  “Stand on your right leg only. Lift your left.” She shifted her weight, lifted her left foot off the ground.  “Good girl, Mila” he said. He grabbed her ankle with one hand, placed his other on her thigh, and pulled her leg up and to the side, practically horizontal.  She felt the cool touch of metal on the inside of her knee as he guided her leg around a divider on a metal wire shelf next to her, pulled her ankle back, and quickly wrapped his belt around her ankle and thigh.  This trapped her leg beside and slightly behind. As a result she was forced to lean forward, stretching her shoulders and sticking her ass out. She had felt exposed before, but now she was completely vulnerable – her labia opened up by being in this position and she could feel the air directly on her clitoris now.

“Darling, you’re so fucking sexy like this.” He was back in front of her now.  He leaned in to kiss her neck, his stubble tickling her cheek. She could feel his breath on her skin, on her neck, then moving down her chest.  He kissed her left nipple, just beside the clothespin, then her right. He cupped and lifted both of her breasts, abruptly let them go, then slapped them.  She groaned again. He kissed the underside of her breasts, then continued downward. She could feel his breath on her belly, then on her hip. He stopped, face level with her aching pussy.  He stroked her, gently, rubbing the backs of his fingers across her vulva, sending fresh shivers up her spine. He took her outer lips in both of his hands and softly, slowly, massaged them as he spread them apart.

“Time to complete your punishment.”  He growled. He stood, placed his right hand against her pubis, his fingers spreading her aching pussy apart and just resting against her clitoris.   He put his left arm around her back, and leaned in to whisper, “I’m going to take the panties out of your mouth now, but I want you to keep it down. Don’t want to disturb the other guests, ok?”  She nodded. He removed his right hand from her pussy, and wiped away a thin stream of saliva running from the corner of her mouth. “Open wide.”

The lacy fabric, now soaked with her saliva, peeled away from the insides of her cheeks.  She worked her jaw briefly. “Thank you, sir”.

His right hand returned to her pussy, and she groaned as he applied some light pressure to her clitoris and began gently tracing small circles with his fingers.  

“Good girl. Now, I’m going to spank you 10 times, for not immediately surrendering your panties when I told you to. You know what to do, right?”

“Yes sir.”

He paused rubbing her with his right hand, then brought his left hand down hard on her right buttock. She but her lip and exhaled through her nose.

“One, thank you sir.”

He rubbed the spot he had just struck with his left hand, and resumed rubbing her clit with his right.  Mila continued to breathe deeply. After a couple of breaths, he picked his left hand up and spanked her left cheek. The impact sent a throb all the way through her pussy, but now he was continuing to rub her clit as well as her sore ass. The pressure was starting to build again.

“Two, thank you sir.”

As soon as she said it, he spanked her again on her right cheek.  She gasped.

“Mmmh, three, thank you siiiirrrrrrOW!” This time, he’d hit her twice in a row before the word was even out of her mouth.  He rubbed her ass again, tenderly, both cheeks. His other hand continued to rub her pussy.

“Unnnhh, f… four, ssssir, five, sir.” she managed, “thank you, sir.”

“Good girl.  Half way there now,” he whispered into her ear.  He plunged two of her fingers back inside her pussy, spreading her lips wide apart, then immediately delivered two more blows to her ass.  

“Oh god,” Mila gasped. “Six. seven, thank you sir.” She awash with sensation, the contradiction between her stinging ass cheeks and his fingers in her wet pussy.  His right hand kept working, fingers thrusting in and out, his palm rubbing against her clitoris. He smacked her ass again, harder this time.

“Eight. Thank you s…sir”

He stood there for a minute, rubbing her ass and fingering her at the same time.  “How many left?”

“Two, sir”

“You’re going to get the last two across your beatiful tits.”

He slapped both of her breasts, hard, then went back to rubbing her pussy.  She leaned forward, breathing hard. He was working her clit faster now, and she was shocked to realise that she was quickly approaching orgasm.

“Nine, ten, sir, oh please may I come?”

“Almost, my dear,” he whispered as he moved around behind her.  He dropped his pants, and stepped up behind her. She gasped as he roughly shoved his hard cock into her pussy.  He reached around with his left hand and resumed stroking her pussy, fast. He began fucking her with slow, deep strokes, then quickly picked up the pace.  “You’ve had me so turned on all night, darling, I just couldn’t wait any more,” he panted from behind.

She couldn’t stand it anymore.  Each thrust of his cock, the fast strokes on her clit, she needed it now.  “Please, sir, please let me come!”

“Baby you go ahead and come for me now,” he said, breathing heavily as he began thrusting furiously.  Her release, finally achieved after being denied, exploded from between her legs and washed over her. She shuddered, gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head.  She shifted forward, pulling her arms back even more. As the orgasm faded, she became aware of her Sir unbuckling the belt from around her leg. He then unlocked the cuffs, pulled her dress down, and released her aching arms.  She collapsed against his chest, and they sank to the floor together. She could feel his warm come beginning to run down her leg, but she didn’t care at that moment.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered to her.  “We can get cleaned up and go back out there in a bit, but let’s stay here for now.”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/8dfzfm/the_wedding_mf_light_bdsm