Again, I savor the pain as pleasure. As nothing more than ripples going through me. Radiating in and out of me like a fun electrical current.
Again, the moment I moan, Bianca echoes me in some way. Soon, I feel like I’m floating in the middle of a flogging frenzy. A suede devil’s paradise where Bianca is ruler. I submit completely to these feelings, knowing I would never trade places with any other man.
“You’re such a good boy,” Bianca whispers from over the continual slapping sounds that have become my personal meditation, “you’re my good, good boy Jordan.” Hearing this, my cock trembles. Oozes thick, warm pre-cum.
I groan into this, thinking, Yes, I am! I am your good boy! I love being your good boy, Bianca. Nothing has made me happier.
And I know nothing has ever been truer.
I have never been happier or more fulfilled than I am right now. Right at this moment.
I don’t want it to stop.
But it does in the next moment.
But not before Bianca reminds me again that I’m her good boy. The best she’s ever had.
Chapter 13 – Bianca
When I finally end Jordan’s punishment session, I’m breathless in front of my work. In front of the swaths of beautiful red and blushing skin on his back. Which is now exquisitely bright and flushed from my efforts. His back now somehow appears bigger. Stronger. More muscular, despite still resting in a submissive position with his hands against the wall.
The sight of his whip-warmed skin, turns me on more than I’ve ever been in my life. I can’t take my eyes off him. I can’t stop studying every inch. Remembering each stroke I gave him, I imagine how his back and shoulders must feel. Hot. Maybe a little numb, but delightfully “woken up” — sensitive. Aware of each change in the air. Each object around him.
My clit clenches at this. Throbs and twitches at this, as if I was the one being flogged, not Jordan. Biting my lip, I watch as he keeps his impeccable position. Not once has he faltered. Not even one tremor has entered his arms, and they’ve been holding him up against the wall for at least twenty-five minutes.
Wetness floods my folds and trickles down my inner thighs in thick, stringy streams. And he never asked me to stop. My breath goes shallow with excitement. With adoration for him. Not once! Not even when I gave him slaps with the flog that were fast and hard enough to maybe take him to that point. I reach up to Jordan’s back and begin to caress his beautiful blush.
As my hands come down on him (probably feeling colder and more intense than anything he’s ever experienced), he flinches. He trembles but doesn’t move. Doesn’t make any sound of discomfort. He just forces out a breath. Slowly. Deliberately. And, by the sound of it, through his teeth.
But no, I think, enjoying the heat beneath my fingertips. He took it all. Everything I had for him, without issue. Without complaint. Without resistance. My fingers continue their journey over Jordan’s back, savoring my patchwork masterpiece. Even by grazing the flog marks, I hear and feel the phantom crack of the flog’s tails. It firecrackers through my mind in a somersault of color and sensation. One that ends up squarely on the head of my puffy clit and drips out of my drooling lips. When I asked for a good boy, that’s exactly what I got. The best boy I’ve ever had. The most well-behaved.
I caress Jordan’s back and ass, taking that moment to glance at the front of his body to admire his substantial and stiff cock. The flared head is shiny from leaking fluid, but that makes it even more appetizing. Thicker and lengthier.
Time to reward him, I think, and time to satisfy my hunger. I’m done playing with my food.
Wordlessly, I turn him around from the wall. For a moment, his eyes look a little glazed over. A little distant, but then they focus on me totally and completely. Drink me in, as if he’s just remembered I’m here and where he is. There’s a tenderness in his eyes, as if I mean the world to him, as well as deep, insatiable hunger.
I guide him over to the bed. I sit down on the edge of the mattress and spread my legs wide before guiding him to kneel. Once in front of me like a knight ready to serve his Queen, I give Jordan the only command I know I need to give. “Show me what a good boy you can be.”
To my deep satisfaction, he goes right to work. He buries his face and mouth in my pussy. In the thick carpet of pubic hair outlining my velvety pink folds. As he licks and teases my lips and clitoris, I clutch his hair. Run my fingers through it. Some of the ways I move, it’s like I’m giving him instructions through touch.
Or at least that’s the way it seems.
Jordan’s mouth and tongue take cues from my touch. His fluttering, erratic patterns quickly drive me wild. Quickly drink pleasure and sensitivity out of me, like he’s turned from a man into a hummingbird. The way his tongue collapses in such a way so he can lick the tip of my clit and its elusive sides makes me think he’s not human, but some kind of magical creature.
I groan deeply. It’s almost a growl with how low the sound rumbles in my throat, but it’s hungry. Intense. After all, I feel like my lips and clit are being bathed in warm soda water. That’s the best way I can describe the bubbling, almost “fizzy” way his tongue feels on me. With this alone I’m dizzy. Almost about to give him a shot of juice straight from the source, but it doesn’t compare to what’s happening now.
Jordan’s fingers entering my sopping wet and greedy hole. Knowing I don't need any more foreplay, because that's what the whipping was for, he slides three in. The minute those three fingers are inside, my pussy sucks them up. Tries to crush them with how hard they grip every inch of his fingers. Every bit of jewelry he wears. Far from being painful, it adds a delicious texture. A nuance to the in and out movement now taking place.
Slow at first, and then faster, faster, faster. Soon his fingers and his mouth move at the same glorious and punishing speed. One brushes circles around and up and down my clit; the other pumps my pussy hard and fast. Joyfully and happily, I release my nectar with each twist of his fingers. Each thrust.
Oh, my God, I think, throwing my head back. Some droplets of my impending release dribble from my depths and into his mouth, it’s never been like this before. Never when masturbating, and never with anyone else. They’ve never made me feel what he’s making me feel. I let out a shaking cry as the pressure in my bladder and vagina build. I’ve felt nothing this intense before. The exact moment I think this, a huge wave of pleasure rolls through me. My pussy lips tighten around Jordan’s fingers. My legs follow suit, clamping down on him. I feel like I’m about to go off like a bottle rocket. And when I do, I’ll shoot straight out of this solar system.
“Oh, God! God!” I scream.
My legs tighten more. Coming closer, closer, closer. But Jordan still doesn’t abort his mission, he continues to lick and finger me. He's even beginning to suck off my clit directly, which is almost more than I can handle. I scream. I moan. I thrash. It won't be long.
My screams rise and fall in the tempo and volume. “Jordan! Jordan!” Saying his name seems to be the only thing that’ll keep me present. Here long enough to feel the fuse that’s burning all throughout my body.
Shots of smaller, fleeting pleasure tumble through my head and down to my pelvis.
“Good boy, good boy,” I cry to him, feeling my eyes literally watering and my clitoral bubble pop. “Such a good boy.”
Jordan hums at this. I can’t be sure what he says. Or even if he says anything, but to my swollen and about-to-burst clit, it sounds like, “Always for you, my lady.”
His words explode in my mind and my orgasm follows behind. It’s quick in its rise but lasting in its release.
From the moment I surrender — fall away from the iron cables of tension that have plagued my pussy for the last few hours — it’s one continuous stream. One continuous wave of pleasure, jerking, spasming and shuttering its way through me. In an attempt to anchor myself, I grab onto Jordan’s hair.
It helps some, but I’m still quivering so much, I can barely keep myself on the mattres
s. It’s only because Jordan’s kneeling before me I don’t end up on the floor or leaving a puddle on the carpet.
Jordan gets it all, making a sound of surprise when I don’t just release my tensions but a pool of cum as well. He doesn’t wait to be told. He laps the evidence of my orgasm up from my lips and thighs. Gently and eagerly he moves, and it’s those feelings — those gentle flicks of his tongue — that bring me back to myself. Out of the orbit he sent me to.
When I’ve come back to myself enough to remember I’m supposed to be his domme, I direct him out from between my legs and onto his feet again. As I expected, Jordan’s face is deeply flushed with excitement, as well as the lower levels of oxygen from when I was squeezing on him. But, despite the feverish look he has to him, he seems eager to keep going.
His bright amorous eyes beg me for more instruction.
His cock begs me, though more subtly. Still erect after so long, it looks flushed in the same way his upper and middle back are. The head shines intensely now, looking fatter, plumper than it did earlier.
I lie back and open my legs to him to encourage him to tease me with his eager tip, which he does. Readily, but tenderly.
He moves his head across my lips and clit like it’s his mouth, not his penis. Like he’s Eskimo kissing me with it, not waiting to penetrate.
“Is this what you want, Mistress?” he asks in a deep husky voice.
“You’re such a good boy, Jordan. Such a good, obedient boy.”
Having him pleasure me in this way is not the only reason I lie back.
I’ve decided to give this boy something no one has ever taken from me. Something I've never given. Maybe lust has driven me insane. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and grieve the gift I'm offering him. But I doubt it. This boy is more man than anyone I’ve ever met. He gets me and because of that he gets to have me.
Another reason I’m laying down is a practical one. It’s a way for me to reach into my pink bag and grab a condom for him before we really get started.
Snatching one of those “barely there” condoms from the dark recesses of my bag, I bring it to my mouth and rip the wrapper open. I spit out the bits of packaging and remove the rubber.
“Roll this on,” I say, putting back on my commanding tone. My dominating presence, despite being on my back and seemingly the one who’s submissive.
Jordan stops immediately and takes the condom from my hand. Swiftly, deftly he robes his cock, making sure to fully cover himself.
When he’s ready, he returns his head to my gluttonous and hot pussy. He hovers just at the entrance, caressing me ever so lightly.
“Mistress?” he asks raising a questioning eyebrow and visibly shaking. “Are we going to… I mean do you want me to fuck you?”
I nod. “Be a good boy now. Don’t keep your mistress waiting."
“I won’t,” he murmurs, and then penetrates me fast. Hard.
But I love it. You really are my good boy, I think, feeling his fullness stretch and command every inch of my pussy and womb. You deserve this, Jordan. No man but you has had this, and no man but you ever will again.
Chapter 14 – Jordan
Jesus-fucking-Christ! The minute I enter Bianca, slide my cock into her hungry and waiting pussy, it literally takes my breath away. Her tightness tells me one thing:
She is a virgin.
A virgin!
I’m honored.
I’m astounded.
I’m privileged.
I gasp aloud, feeling her warmth envelop me.
On the back of that warmth is a delightful sensation of pressure. Of being hugged and squeezed by her as I move further in. As I caress myself along her textures. Her insides.
“Aw, daaamn,” I growl/moan, never having experienced anything like this before. It’s so pleasurable — so overwhelmingly intoxicating inside her — I feel like I could explode right here and now. I let out a big, deep breath, deciding I need to fuck her not just stand marveling at how intoxicating she is.
“I’ve never felt anything like this before.” When I say this, I don’t know who I’m speaking to more. Myself or Bianca. But either way, it’s true.
Never with any of the other girls I’ve slept with — and trust me: I’ve slept with a lot of ‘em — they’ve never felt like this. Sure, they’ve been warm. Textured inside. But they’ve also felt empty. Careless and heartless. Like I could pump and pump and pump, and never really reach them.
But not with Bianca. From the moment I begin to move rhythmically in and out of her, to the point where I start to increase my speed, I don’t feel lonely. Left adrift to fill an empty chasm. Instead, I feel held. Loved. Seen. Fed and nourished with every plunge and retreat. The more I dip, the more I crave.
Soon I’m thrusting at a regular rhythm and speed. Somewhere in the lower to middle of what I can do. I roll my hips back and forth, making sure that Bianca’s lips and clit get to taste me, thirst for me, tense for me.
And it must be working because it’s not long before she looks up at me with her neon-emerald eyes and shouts, “More! More, Jordan! Give me more!”
“Of course, my lady,” I growl, picking up my speed. “You can have as much of me as you want.” With these words, I let my hips and balls slam into her. Slap her ass. I even go so far as to pull her off the bed a little more and hold her legs up and open.
Even that, however, seems to do nothing more than stoke her fire. Increase her appetite for me. She moans under my hold. Bites her lip and says, “I’m still hungry, Jordan, I want more.” Having someone moan and shout at me the way she does sends a shot of intense pleasure straight through my dick. It starts in my head and buries itself somewhere deep in my balls. My prostate.
I pound her more and decide to take her off the bed and into my arms. As I wrap her legs around my hips and lift her off the bed, my back protests. The skin screams under memories of the flogger swatting my skin. But instead of being painful, the screaming, burning sensations are further fuel to my fire. Something about the way my skin itches, feels rashy and hot — something about that makes me even more sensitive to Bianca’s pulsating walls and lips.
And yes, that’s exactly what they do, as I hold her with my cock still plunged deep inside her. As I walk her over to a wall, I thrust her up and down on me. On my cock, like she’s one giant toy goddess. I don’t know how I manage to do it, but I manage to have her moving up and down on me while walking.
I position her against the very same wall I was up against just a few moments prior.
And once she’s pressed firmly against it, I fuck Bianca with everything I have. With every ounce of strength and speed, I pump in and out of her. I alternate my pumping with thrusting her pelvis down on me. Anytime I do this, I have my fingers softly yet securely locked onto her hips. Her legs. And that drives her wild.
She repays my grip on her hips with her fingernails in my back. Buried there at first and then dragged down and across my back and shoulders as I go at her with maximum energy. I’m panting hard and fast as I move — I’m reeling under the sensations her nails are causing in my tender back — but not once do I slow. Not once do I stop or give her anything less than every bit of me. Right down to my balls, I let her have me.
Somewhere between the scratches she’s leaving on my back, and the dull thudding, slapping sound and sensation on my shaft and pelvis-region, I feel my balls constrict. In seconds, I’m aware of the telltale rush of my oncoming orgasm.
Before I have to worry about whether I should slow down, pull out, or find some other way to delay climaxing — Bianca didn’t give me express permission — she whispers, “Oh, Jordan! I’m close! So close.” She jerks under her own impending orgasm. “You can go when I go.”
Almost instantaneously after she says that she loses herself. Shoots up against the wall, straining and screaming against the strongest orgasm I’ve ever felt go through a woman. And to top it off, nothing is faked or over performed about this. It’s wild. Rugged. Real. Bianca’s hair hangs w
ildly in her sweat-drenched face.
Seeing the veritable sex goddess mounted on me, I come seconds later. I jam myself into her hard and close, willing each pump of my cock to please her. To show her what a good boy I am for her. No guy has ever served you like I have, I think, getting close. And no guy ever will. I’ll make sure of that.
I grunt, actually crying out, as a final spear of pleasure and cum lances through me, and into her. Into the rubber I put on just for her, to be on my best behavior.
For a moment, Bianca and I stay where we are against the wall. Panting. Sagging into each other.
But that doesn’t go on forever. After I’ve got enough air back into my lungs and muscles, I take her away from the wall and obediently carry her to the bed. I set her on it first before collapsing next to her.
The toys she laid out, a good number of them, clatter to the floor after being bounced off their resting place.
Neither of us pay these any mind.
Bianca’s too busy petting me.
And I’m too busy cuddling her as she tells me again what a good boy I am.
I answer I always want to be her good boy. I always want to behave for her.
That’s the last thing I get out of my mouth besides a kiss before falling into a deep, dizzying sleep.
Chapter 15 – Bianca
February 15
I wake up next to Jordan almost surprised to see him. All night intense dreams involving him filled my slumber. I’m almost afraid he isn’t real. That I’m still asleep. So, I reach over and touch his face. His wavy blond hair is still mussed and glued together in places thanks to my sweat and other fluids.
To my immense joy, he’s one-hundred percent real. He’s a dream come true, and he isn’t just a figment of my sex-starved brain.
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