Straddling him she rubbed her pussy over his encased cock. Purring softly though half opened eyes. Then with a quick shift of her body her wet hole engulfed him. "Oh, so good." she cooed.
He, however, felt none of it as she began to grind herself into him. He looked up at her as she rocked back and forth on top of him. Her hair half covering her face and her teeth clamping down on her lip. He felt none of it except for her nails digging into his chest and the weight of her pushing into his hips.
She rose up enough to keep his shaft inside her then slowly lowered herself back down until he was buried inside her. "How's that feel?" she said mockingly. Up and down she worked, methodically. Teasingly. The shadows of the dawn hiding and highlighting her features as she moved. "Oh, my God. So, so good. I wish you could feel it." So did he as it had been over six months since she caught him jerking off at the computer.
As her tempo increased with her breathing, her thrusts became shorter and shorter until she was grinding into him. "Up." she barked. This was the hardest part for him as he arched up his back pushing into her. "Higher!"
He tried to lift higher as she pushed back against him. "Yes. Yes." she cried. She was gyrating on top of him, losing herself in a state of sexual bliss, while he watched like some spectator. Receiving none of the benefits of her movements on his throbbing, yet isolated rod.
She pushed down harder as her climax drew closer and he struggled to keep his hips raised. "Higher! Yes, fuck yes. Higher!" His muscles burning and his back aching. A stinging slap to his chest helped his resolve. "Higher. That's it. Oh, yes. Oh my. Oh my God. Yes. Fuck me!"
He had no idea if he was or not as his cock only felt a small percentage of what it normally should. Just enough to keep him excited. Teased. Desperate and most of all frustrated.
As she got closer and closer he watched the symphony of her movements in the gathering light. Her hair swirling around her face. Her breast heaving with her every move. Her moans and cries of passion. A glimpse of her expressions, consumed by her sexual state, oblivious to his presence.
Her thighs clamped down on him and her nails dug deep into his chest as a lust filled growl emerged from her shadowed face. Her body shuddered and heaved as her climax swept across her. He hid his sigh of relief and he lowered himself down slowly as she relaxed, contented by her orgasm. There would be no such luck for him though.
After a few minutes of cuddling and petting she slid off of him. The room was almost fully lit now even though the sun had yet to break the horizon. He was still hard as a rock and waited without word, patiently. Hoping she would finally end his ordeal.
"Would you like to cum?" Her voice was soft, caring and angelic, but he knew there was a dark side.
His cock twitched. "Yes. Please. I would like to cum." He prayed it wasn't her cruel way, which was better than nothing. She would, in the past, leave on his condoms and wrap her thumb and index finger around his shaft, just under the head. Then she would slowly squeeze and release. It was a slow and maddening process with little stimulation. She would also stop as soon he began to spurt, ruining his orgasm into the condom. Leaving him hornier than before.
"Take off the condoms." she purred.
'Oh God yes. Thank you.' he thought. He rolled them up and dropped them away. "Thank you." His cock swelled.
"Go ahead." was all she said.
Confused he looked over at her, her head laying on her pillow facing him. A slight grin on her face.
"Go on. If you want to cum you better get started." He was now more desperate than embarrassed and he started stroking his cock.
"See, there you go. Just like you like it. Your hands wrapped around your shaft. Are you happy?"
"Yes. Thank you." He was flush from her comments and the fact he was being made to masturbate in front of her.
"You shouldn't be." she said seductively. "You should be embarrassed that I'm making you jack off in front of me instead of filling me up with your cum. Now stroke it. Yes. . . There you go. . . Just like your little porno sessions; you got to watch a hot chick fuck her brains out to get you horny; now you get to jack off to cum."
He was consumed by his own lust. He pumped faster and faster.
"Oh no! Slowly down there! Tease it! You can't cum until I say."
Looking at his cock then at her, he followed her commands.
"Good boy. Nice and slow. Show me how you do it."
He teased it ever so slow for her. He was utterly embarrassed by all of this yet more turned on than ever.His body tensed and his legs twitched and tingled as he approached the edge. She listened to his breathing; erratic and uncontrolled.
"Not yet. You can't cum yet. Play with your balls for a while. . . So full. . . So blue." She giggled.
He hands went to his sack and took a ball in each hand. Kneading them gently as his impending climax retreated.
After a minute or two she let him resume. Which he did with earnest. "Show me how you fuck your fist. There you go. Faster. Poor, poor little cock stroker. So desperate. Are you close?"
"Yes." was all he could croak out.
"On the edge?"
He shook his head yes, quickly biting his lip.
"Good, I want you to arch your back up and point your cock right at your face. Don't miss either or maybe I'll put you in one of those little plastic cages and you wont even be allowed to get hard. Would you like that? Begging just to be unlocked? To get hard?"
He grunted as the cum boiling in his balls made its way to his shaft like some erotic volcano. He struggled to keep his hips as high as possible. His cock pointing right at his face. Pumping faster and faster. He glanced over at her. The evil gleam in her eyes to him she wasn't kidding.
"Pay attention. If you miss there will be consequences."
He looked back just in time for the first spurt to splash across his left eye. Caught by surprise he stopped jerking and opened his mouth in shock only to be rewarded by the next shot hitting his upper lip and teeth. He now closed his mouth and eyes. The next two hit him on the forehead then, due a lack of intensity, his chin.
After a brief pause he realized he wasn't stroking any more and had, in effect ruined his own orgasm. He quickly began pumping again to try and finish off only to have her stop him. "No, no. You already came, stop jerking off. You're done for now." she said giggling. "How does it taste?"
He lay there motionless. Hard as a rock. His his face scrunched up as his own jizz trickled down his face and the taste of his cum filling his mouth. It didn't seem that bad now that it was over, but he was still knotted up from what she made him do. More embarrassed than when she walked in on him as he spilled his load all over her desk.
"Good boy. Good little stroker boy. You've had quite the morning. A hot babe fucked her brains out right in front of you; then you got to watch your favorite movie. What was it called again?" She tweaked his nipple. "You know the one I caught you jerking off to."
"Hot teen facials." he murmured as a heated flush of guilt filled his head.
"That's it!" she exclaimed slapping his chest. "Hot. . . Teen. . . Facials. Well, you're no teen, but. . ." she started laughing.
Her words stung and he knew that he had to endure them if he was ever to be allowed inside of her again. However, as much as the stung they excited him even more. He tried to make sense of it, but he couldn't and he dared not tell her what was tumbling through his head. Her voice brought him back to the here and now.
"You're still hard. Maybe you like it so much you'd like to blow another load on your face."
Yes. He still wanted to cum, but not like that and although his head screamed no, but his libido spoke for him. "Yes, please." he croaked out as his hand began to tease his hard shaft. He told himself how good it felt as he could feel her icy gaze upon him.
He hoped this would end it, but she knew she was just getting started.
The End.
A Slut's Journal
My name is Kara. I am a 39 year old married mother of two kids, living in the Midwest. I h
ave red hair with hazel eyes, an average build and perky 36C's! Some have described me as a MILF, and I can turn heads for sure! I've always had fantasies, and they've always been a bit restrained. I grew up in a conservative environment and I feel as if my sexuality was a bit repressed. For a while, I was able to happily repress it, but I've been restless in recent years. My fantasies of submission and certain roleplay ideas haven't stayed put away in the corner of my mind where I wanted them to stay. I've turned to chatting online, and those experiences were somewhat satisfying, but I never found what I really wanted and needed. Until recently, that is. One day about a month ago, I was chatting, and got involved in a roleplay with a guy that just seemed different. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but there was just something unique there, and I liked it.
After chatting for a while, I gave him my phone number, and that only intrigued me more. I was usually hesitant to give too much personal information in prior chat experiences, but he blew me away with his sensuality and the overall effect he had on me. I wanted more. One chat became another chat, and one phone call became another, until I realized that I needed him. I needed his powerful presence and I needed him to make me submit. Eventually, I got what I wanted, even though I've never submitted to anyone before. In fact, I'm so used to being in control all the time, but this just seems right and I can't help myself. I am ready to shed my former conservative lifestyle and be a completely loyal and obedient slut who serves him. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, and I won't leave my husband and kids, but I need more. And it is Master who gives it to me. When we are together, he is the center of my universe. He lives a state away, but I consider chatting or talking on the phone to him to be my way of being with him. He has made me discover things about myself, things I had never imaged I'd want, need, or crave. In addition to finding my need to submit,
Master has awakened a curiosity about women in me. I will always love being with a man, but with Master's help, I'm willing to explore my bi-curiosity. Even though I have told Master that I don't really like women, he knows that it's just a facade, and that I will try women to please him and I know that I'll likely even enjoy it! You see, Master has the ability to see things in me no one else has. He truly is in my head, anticipating my thoughts, curiosities, and desires.
Master has asked me to write a journal to keep track of my thoughts and desires. This is the first entry in that journal. This first entry comes from a day in which I had disappointed him. This is actually a couple of entries from the entire day:
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Master isn't pleased with me today. I'm upset and angry with myself for disappointing him. I know better, but let my fears get in the way of serving. I questioned my desire to please him, which is in a way like questioning him. I never thought of it this way, but now that I do, I know that I am worthy of punishment.
He has made me use the clamps once today, as a part of today's punishment. I really don't like the clamps. Master likes the way that they look, but my nipples are so sensitive that they hurt so badly! I would only endure this kind of punishment from Master. If it were anyone else, I'd tell them exactly where to go! But I do this to please Master, and I have let him down today. Another part of my punishment is fucking myself with one of my vibrators, and to do so multiple times throughout the day. I'm not allowed to cum without Master's permission, and it's one of many rules I have to obey at all times. Because I'm being punished today, I know that won't be allowed to cum no matter what I do, and I don't deserve to cum. It's so hard to not cum! My vibrator feels so good inside my wet pussy . . . I mean, my wet cunt! Master loves it when I refer to it as my cunt, because he says that's the way that nasty little sluts like myself should talk. He even calls me a cunt sometimes, which is so humiliating, but it makes me so wet when he calls me that. Master tells me that I'll be able to control my orgasms better in the future with more training, but I sometimes don't know how to stop myself from cumming! I'm not quite used to having my orgasms restricted yet.
When I'm fucking myself, alone like this, I hate it. When Master is here, even just listening, I love it. I love that he's hearing me, getting hard, and maybe even going to give me the pleasure of allowing me to make him cum. Without him, this is just a punishment. It's humiliating, and I deserve it.
-----
Master has instructed me to fuck myself multiple times throughout the day. I hate that I'm getting so wet. My stocking tops are soaked, my pussy is sore, and now it's almost time to use the clamps again. I sooooo hate the clamps. They hurt, much worse than when someone is tugging or sucking on them. But I accept that this is a part of my punishment. As much as I don't like wearing them, it's worse when they come off. I'm not going to be alone much longer at home. Kids will be home soon, so Master says that I have to put them on soon.
I'm trembling all over, and ache to cum. I'd beg Master to let me cum, but I know what he is going to say. This is a part of my punishment, and I don't deserve to cum. I deserve to be used . . .
-----
Usually when Master has me in stockings and heels, and nothing else, it's freeing and sexy. He calls it my uniform, and I love wearing my uniform for him. It pleases him, which means that I get pleasure from it too. Making sure he is pleased excites me so much! But today, it feels different. Today I feel alone and exposed, not sexy, not slutty. Just embarrassed, and used. I want to cover up. I've been such a disobedient slut and I let Master down. Knowing that I upset him makes me hurt. I deserve this punishment. I deserve to feel so humiliated.
I have to put the nipple clamps on now. Master didn't tell me how long I have to wear them, and even a few minutes is torturous. He says I also have to fuck myself at the same time. As much as I hate my punishment, I still wish he were with me.
-----
I have the clamps on now. The vibe is in my wet hole, and it is sore and aching. My eyes are tearing, I'm biting my lip, trying to distract myself from the pain of the clamps. This toy is banging in my cunt so hard by Master's orders. He wanted my pussy to be sore by the end of the day. This is the fourth time today I am fucking myself, and I feel like a dirty slut and a filthy whore. I don't know how Master puts up with me. I'm so sore, aching, humiliated, and still my pussy is dripping and I'm squirming in my chair. I want more, which makes me such a whore! If Master were here, I'd be begging him . . . begging and pleading to take the clamps off. I wouldn't dare to ask to cum. It's already been ten minutes since I put the clamps on, and it feels like it's been ten days!
Master has told me I need to leave the clamps on for twice as long as I anticipated . . . He wants me to wear them for another 10 minutes and I don't think I can do it. However, I don't dare take them off and incur more of his wrath. He's been so patient and understanding while training me to be his slut, and that's why I deserve more pain and punishment.
Oh, god, he wants the vibe to touch the chain. OHhhhhhhhh. I feel the vibrations go up the chain and feels like the clamps are searing my nipples. The pain is intense, but so is the pleasure. I am feeling some pleasure in having these clamps on my nipples, but I shouldn't tell Master. He'd have these clamps on me all the time if he knew that. Shaking now, it hurts, but I feel such electricity running through my body. I'm curled up in bed, in a ball, waiting for this part of my punishment to end. I'd beg him for me to take these off, but I know that he'll say no. I'm eagerly waiting to get my next message from him. What will he say?
Waiting to hear, and I'm on pins and needles. I'm begging him in my head, wishing that he could hear my thoughts. Ooooooooh! He said I can take them off! I thank Master so much for letting those clamps come off my nipples. I've learned to not disappoint you, Master. I won't let you down again.
The End.
Waiting in the Darkness
It was dark when I got home from work. The winter sun, tiring of the cold, had sunk promptly at five o'clock, and my drive home was in darkness. About the only good news was that the solstice was about a week away, and then the days would slowly but surely begin to le
ngthen.
I pulled into my driveway, decided not to brave the cold to check the mailbox, and drove up to the house, pressing the button on the garage door remote as I did so. I pulled into the garage, hit the button again to close the door, and sat in the car for a moment, letting the stress of the day ease away as I listened to the end of "Sweet Emotion" by Aerosmith. The garage light, on a timer, clicked off, leaving me in near darkness; the light of the car stereo and dash board giving a faint glow.
The song went off, and I got out to go inside. Pausing, key in door lock, I felt an odd feeling come over me, as though something wasn't quite right. Shaking it off, I opened the door and went in. I dropped my keys, pocket knife, wallet, and spare change in the basket on the side table, hung my coat and hat on the hook above it, and turned toward the kitchen. It was dark in the house, with only a few faint rays from a distant street light getting through the thick drapes.
I could see her shape, then. She was sitting in a kitchen chair, and in the low light I thought I detected a bit of shine. As my eyes became accustomed to the dark I began to see more of her. Covered from head to toe in shiny latex, her boobs accentuated by the clingy material, her gloved hands resting on the table in front of her, she was my wildest fantasy come true. And then she spoke, her soft, sexy voice breaking the quiet.
"I'm ready for you, Joe."
She rose then, moving into a stray ray of light, and I saw that she was wearing a long, red, halter-top dress and red heels. The dress' bodice was fitted to her torso, but just above her hips it flared out, the sexy folds of rubber swishing deliciously around her legs as she walked. Beneath the dress she wore a black catsuit, with red, elbow-length gloves and a black hood. Even with the tall shoes, she was slightly shorter than my 5'9", and I could see that she was very thin and lithe.
She had moved close to me, her gloved hands now caressing my lightly bearded face. My hands naturally found themselves drawn to her hips. For a moment we stood, her hands on my face, my hands on her hips, gazing into each others' eyes. And then, not knowing quite why, my right hand moved up her back, pulling her into my lips.
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