Needing Him

by Jeanne St. James

  Now I wish I hadn’t asked so many questions.

  He smacks the tawse lightly against his palm as he approaches the bed. The snap of the leather against skin makes me jump. Every time he slaps his hand, his erection bounces.

  There’s no doubt he’s looking forward to meting out my punishment.

  My gaze lifts from the instrument to his face. His eyes appear bright and his lips curve slightly. He doesn’t look evil. No, he’s excited. And he looks exactly that.

  “On your hands and knees and come to the edge of the bed. Face me.”

  I do as he says and turn to face him. As he steps up to the edge of the mattress, his cock is level with my face. “Open your mouth.”

  I do so.

  “Stick out your tongue.”

  Oh, fuck, he’s not going to strike my tongue, is he?

  I tentatively do so.

  But all he does is slide the crown of his cock down it, leaving behind his silky, salty precum.

  “Does that taste good?”

  I close my mouth and swirl his essence around. “Yes.”

  “Do you want more?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Soon,” he answers and moves away, leaving me there at the end of the bed, naked, on my hands and knees. Vulnerable.

  I don’t let my gaze follow him, I stare straight ahead at a spot on the wall. My nipples are peaked and needing his attention. The inner walls of my pussy clench tight.

  Then he’s there again, at my head, pulling the blindfold over my eyes.

  The cabin goes dark. Now that I’ve lost one sense, I need to use my hearing to follow what’s going on next.

  He strokes my hair, then my cheek, before running his thumb over my bottom lip.

  “Can you see me?”

  “No.”

  “No what?”

  “No, Nick.”

  “That’s it, baby,” he says softly. “I love my name on your lips. Especially when you cry it out while you come. Do you want to come, Grace?”

  “Yes, Nick.”

  “That will be your reward. But first, we have other business to attend to. Six strikes, Grace. But once I start, you may ask me for more.”

  I don’t answer. My mind spins with both anticipation and trepidation. I both hope he holds off and also hope to get it over with so we can move on to the reward.

  Suddenly, his hand cups my chin, and he’s gently pulling me up.

  “Baby, you’re so beautiful, your body responds perfectly. You have a flush running up your chest into your cheeks, your nipples are as hard as diamonds. I see a sheen on your inner thighs. Come, stand up.”

  Since I can see nothing, he helps me to my feet and guides me around to face the bed, away from him.

  “Bend over and lock your wrists together on the bed.”

  I do so, pinning my wrists together as if they’re bound.

  “You feel the rope on your wrists, Grace?”

  It’s crazy. With simply his words, my wrists really do feel like they’re bound with rope. He’s playing with my head. My pussy throbs at the thought of being tied up. Of being unable to escape. “Yes, Nick.”

  “Is it too tight?”

  I test my imaginary binding. “No.”

  “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” I hiss. Because it does. His voice, his presence, controls me, everything about me.

  I am his to do with what he wants.

  I never realized how much I needed him, needed this, until today. I had only hoped to break my long dry spell. But now, this is so much more.

  I never imagined it would be like this.

  And I hope it only gets better.

  “Your pussy is pretty, Grace. It’s wet with need. It’s all mine, is it not?”

  “Yes, it’s all yours, Nick.”

  I feel him move around the room. It’s strange that I can’t see him. But my hearing seems more acute now that I’m blindfolded.

  I may not be able to see him, but I can sense his heat behind me and cannot wait for him to touch me.

  Even though this is supposed to be some sort of “punishment” for my transgression of asking questions, I’m looking forward to what he’s about to do. I lay my trust in his hands, for I’m sure he won’t hurt me. His punishment can’t be any more than a torturous pleasure.

  I will accept what he gives me. Whatever it is.

  Then his hands are around my ankles, pulling them wider, placing my feet where he wants them. My legs are spread, my ass in the air, my elbows and wrists on the bed.

  I wait.

  And wait.

  Until I don’t want to wait any longer, but I curb the need to demand him to hurry.

  I know I’m already getting six strikes of the tawse and until I know what it’s like, I don’t want to add to the number.

  He’s quiet, so I wonder if he’s staring at me, studying me. I feel exposed, bent over the bed, everything on display.

  Do I feel self-conscious? No. Maybe I should, because anyone in their right mind might. Especially with someone they don’t know so well.

  But it’s Nick, I remind myself.

  And I need this more than anything.

  I close my eyes behind the blindfold and imagine him standing behind me, stroking himself as he looks at my pussy, which must be dripping at this point. I’m melting for him and I wouldn’t be surprised if I leave a puddle on the floor.

  Though ridiculous, the thought makes me smile. He would probably like that... especially knowing that was all because of him.

  He finally speaks, “Where you are right now, I don’t want you to move from. Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand, Nick.”

  “Good, Grace,” he says softly.

  Yes, because I’m good. But I also want to be bad. However, I won’t move. Not until he tells me to.

  Suddenly, he grabs a handful of my hair and yanks back, making me gasp, more in surprise than anything. My head rests on my back, my neck stretches tight, and I’m breathing hard. I quiver as his free hand strokes along my back, over my shoulder blades, down my spine. He reaches underneath me, tweaks my right nipple, and I gasp again. I want to tell him to do it again, but I can’t speak unless spoken to. I can’t answer unless asked.

  So, I breathe deeply as he cups my breast within his hand and twists my pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. I try not to wiggle, but it’s difficult to stay still.

  I enjoy what he’s doing to me so very, very much.

  I try not to whimper a complaint when he releases me and slides his palm over my ribs to my waist and then rests for a moment on my hip. When he lets my hair go, my head falls forward.

  “Rest your forehead on your arms.”

  I do.

  “No matter what, keep your ass up as it is now. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, Nick.”

  “That’s it, baby. If, at any time, you need to say your safe word, you do so. What is your safe word?”

  “Pineapple.”

  “Do you want to use it now?”

  “No, Nick.”

  I picture him smiling at my answer, which makes me smile. I am making him happy and have this driving need for him to be just that. It seems like he hasn’t been happy for a long time. And I really like this new Nick. This verbal, non-grunting Nick.

  If I can help him, I will.

  Just as he is helping me. Giving me what I need. What I crave.

  He squeezes my ass cheeks together and lays a gently kiss on each one. “You’re giving me a gift, Grace. And I appreciate it.” Then his warm hands are gone, the cool air taking their place along my skin.

  He slides a finger through my soaked folds and he murmurs something I can’t quite catch. His finger dips inside me for only a split second and then it’s gone. It just makes me want him more.

  But that’s the point, I guess.

  He wants me to not only enjoy my reward but my punishment.

 
I take a deep breath through my nostrils and clear my mind as the leather strap slides across the curves of my ass.

  I bite back a groan as he slides it around again. The leather is smooth against my skin and now I’m looking forward to whatever he will give me. Whatever Nick thinks I deserve for asking questions out of turn.

  But I need him to get on with it.

  He’s toying with me.

  And it’s driving me mad.

  He taps the tawse along my skin. Not striking, no. Soft taps to waken my nerve endings, to make me aware of the instrument in his hand. To remind me of who’s in control.

  Tap, tap, tap along my buttocks.

  Goosebumps break out all over my body and I bite my lower lip even though I’m not allowed. I know he can’t see it from where he stands.

  Plus, I’m sure his attention is focused elsewhere.

  Then the air moves with a suddenness and I hear the sharp smack of the leather against my skin before I actually feel the sting. My body shifts forward even though I fought my reaction. I can’t help it.

  And he’s not going to like that.

  But he says nothing and pulls my hips back into place.

  Then I wait.

  Finally, he says, “Every time you move it doesn’t count. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I hiss. Then I quickly add, “Nick.”

  I swallow hard and tell myself to stay still, to be ready this time. And when the tawse comes down on my other ass cheek, I do as he says. I remain in place and accept what he gives me.

  I make a noise and so does he. This affects him as much as me.

  I’m pleased with that.

  And, surprisingly, I’m not finding the leather strap unpleasant. It makes me feel alive.

  His fingers gently trace what I can only imagine is the welt that the tawse left behind.

  “What is your safe word, Grace?” he asks again.

  “Pineapple.”

  “Are you going to use it right now?”

  “No, Nick.”

  “Good,” he breathes, sounding relieved.

  Once again, he strikes my right cheek in a different spot than the first time. The bite of the leather making my skin come alive. I open my mouth but no gasp comes out. Nothing but silence escapes me.

  And it’s crazy, I know, but I like it.

  Never in my life would I have thought I would enjoy something as forbidden as this. Something I tried to avoid as a child. And now, I can’t get enough of.

  I want to feel. Really feel. Experience that rush from my ass to my core, making me wet, making me want him more than humanly possible. I want him to do it again.

  He does.

  And again.

  He does.

  I want more. But I can’t beg him for more. I can’t even ask or suggest. So, I stay quiet.

  “Do you want to use your word, Grace?”

  “No, Nick.”

  He blows out a breath and I feel it against my heated skin and I get wetter, my pussy seems so swollen, ready. I actually hope he smacks me there instead.

  He doesn’t.

  He pauses and nothing touches me but the cool air that surrounds us.

  But then something slick, smooth, drips over my anus, down the cleft of my ass.

  “Whose ass is this, Grace?”

  “Yours, Nick.”

  “Has anyone ever had you here?”

  “No.”

  “So, it is all mine.”

  I don’t answer because he didn’t ask a question. It’s true, no one has had me there, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like.

  If I’m going to find out, I want it to be with Nick.

  He presses me there, pushing slightly, circling, and I can’t believe how good it feels. No matter what he does, he always makes me want more.

  However, he doesn’t press too hard, just teases along my tight rim. My instinct is to push against him, but I quell that. And I wait once more.

  He presses a finger, maybe a thumb—I can’t tell—at the opening. And when he brings the leather strap down on my ass, his finger (I know this now) slips inside of me at the same time. I can’t help it, I cry out.

  “Tell me your word if you need to,” he says, sounding a bit strained himself.

  I like the effect I have on him. He thinks he’s in control. But my reactions really control him. Though he’d never admit it.

  I don’t say the word and when he strikes me again on the other ass cheek, he slips a second finger in and stretches me.

  With my stinging ass in the air, he fucks it slowly with his fingers and it’s glorious.

  I never, ever imagined sex to be this good. It’s unexpected that I would like these things I would have considered debauched with any of my other lovers.

  But with Nick, it feels right.

  I don’t think there’s anything he can do to make me not want him.

  But let me just say... If this is punishment, I want to be a bad, bad girl.

  Chapter Nine

  Nick

  Grace impresses me. She excites me.

  My Grace.

  She has taken the strikes of the tawse, one of my favorite toys, like I thought she would. She likes a challenge, and this is certainly one she’s never had before.

  She has kept her wrists tightly together as if they were bound, she hasn’t moved her feet. Besides the movement forward when I first struck her, she’s done as she’s been told.

  I can’t get any harder than I am at the moment. She wants to please me. And because of that, I want to please her.

  But I still owe her two more strikes of the tawse. The skin of her ass already shows the effects of the leather strap. Red, pink, and a little puffy. I kiss each place I’ve landed a blow, thankful she’s allowed me this.

  Because she could always have said no.

  She could have always stopped me mid-strike. She did not.

  And I know now she'll take the last two as she did the first four.

  What’s even more exciting is that she likes ass play. And it’s one more reason I can’t get enough of her.

  Out of appreciation, I hand over a little of the control to her. “For these last two… On a scale of one to ten. Ten being hard, one being just a light tap… What number, Grace?

  She’s silent for a moment, most likely judging her own tolerance. “Six,” she finally says, her voice breathy.

  Six is about what the last couple I gave her were. I give her a six again, which makes my balls tighten painfully.

  “Last one. Number.”

  “Eight.”

  I hesitate. “Are you sure, Grace?” I need to be sure. I don’t want to hurt her, but I want to give her what she asks for.

  “Yes, please, Nick. An eight.”

  I give her an eight and she whimpers before blowing out a shaky breath, but she didn’t move. Not an inch.

  I toss the tawse out of the way and concentrate on stretching her tight canal with my fingers as much as possible. I’m not sure if she’ll be ready for me to take her there today. Or even tonight. But by the end of the week, maybe. It’s something to look forward to.

  When she groans, and squeezes my fingers, I say, “And now, the reward.”

  “I think I like the punishment better.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. Not surprisingly, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. It’s an incredible feeling.

  “How do you know? You haven’t received your reward, yet. Though you talked out of turn. Are you purposely pushing me to punish you again? And who said the punishment next time will be the same?” When she doesn’t answer me, I add, “You can speak freely, Grace.”

  All this time, I’m sliding my slick fingers in and out of her ass and as soon as I tell her she can talk, she lets out a loud moan and her spine bows. She rocks her hips back and shoves my fingers deeper.

  I grab my cock with my free hand and spread the precum around the head before stroking it to the same rhythm of my fingers.

  Watching
her move against my hand turns me on to no end.

  “Do you want me inside you, Grace? Is that what you want for your reward?”

  “Yes,” she hisses. “I need you… right now.”

  “Pull off the blindfold, grab a condom.” As she does what I ask, I continue, “Open it up and hand it to me.” She rips the package open with her teeth and passes the condom back to me, turning enough so she can watch me roll it on one handed.

  “I’m so ready for you, baby,” I murmur as I press the crown of my cock between her swollen lips.

  “I’m ready for you, too.” She sighs as I press slowly into her.

  I’m surrounded by hot, wet silk as she accepts me fully. I pause. Mostly because I need to gather my wits. I don’t want to come immediately and that may very well happen, especially with my fingers deep inside her, also.

  She groans and pushes back against me. “Nick…”

  “Yes, baby, I hear you. I know what you need. I need it, too,” I reassure her. “Let me tell you how beautiful your ass looks right now, striped from your punishment, stretched from my fingers inside you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

  I close my eyes and bite back a groan when she squeezes me tight, both my fingers and my cock. Then I have no choice but to move; I can’t hold myself back anymore. I try to keep control, keep it slow, steady. All the way in, all the way out. Her body hugs me and the need to move faster, harder pulls at me.

  “Fuck me,” she groans.

  “Faster?”

  “Yes.”

  “Harder?”

  “Oh…yes.”

  I give her what she wants until I lose all sense of time, all my thoughts float away until there is nothing left but her. Only her. Only me. Just the two of us connected as we climb to a higher plane together. Her cries come steady and when she calls my name, I struggle not to lose it. I want this to last.

  I’ve waited a long time for someone to come along and fill that hole deep inside me. And now that I have her, I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want to let go of myself.

  But I must. My body can only take so much, my mind spins out of control. I need to find release.

  And as she ripples around me, groaning, moaning, gripping the bed sheets, shoving her ass into my hips, I let myself go. I let everything go.