It was magical.
My Sir’s footsteps drew closer, and I felt the wild thrill of anticipation take root within me.
I could tell from the sounds that my Sir had walked near the bed, and I guessed that he was deciding which toy to play with. But I couldn’t know for sure.
And that not-knowing encased in a capsule of trust was the hottest thing in the world to me.
Even though my body was riled with the anticipation, my erection had subsided. There was only so much sitting on the floor in this position could do. Even so, I knew there was only a matter of time before we’d begin.
I could see the shadows dance in the corner of my vision as he approached in the candlelight. I couldn’t tell what he was holding, only that his movements were slow; deliberate.
“You’ve been such a good boy,” My Sir said, his voice full of command.
He had a commander’s voice, and he was absolutely a leader. He was someone I respected; someone worthy of my submissive service.
I wanted to please him.
As soon as I had that thought, I felt a sensation flicker along my back.
It was soft but stiff. Leather?
My Sir moved whatever it was in slow circles, barely grazing the flesh on the sides of my back.
It was hard to resist moving my body in an arch, but I had to stay still. My Sir hadn’t given me any commands to move. My job here was simple:
All I had to do was receive.
The air around us was quiet; there was no noise except the distant hum of the furnace or something. For a moment, I could make myself believe that my Sir had vanished from the room, and there was a phantom dragging its fingers along my back.
He moved the sensation in slow swirls down to my lower back, beginning to alternate between pressing a little harder and letting whatever it was drag along like a feather.
My mind was submerged even deeper into the Sub-Zone as every neuron in my brain was focused on tracking where this thing was going and what it was doing.
That was all I had to do; all I had to focus on.
It was complete bliss.
Then, the circles tightened and moved down to the globes of my ass.
I tensed a little, not sure what was going to happen.
“Relax,” my Sir commanded.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out as the slow circles continued.
“Good boy.”
When I heard praise like that, it filled me with warm and fuzzy feelings of safety. I was doing things right. I pleased him.
Everything would be okay.
Then the sensation stopped as my Sir took whatever tool he was using away from my skin.
As soon as it stopped, all I wanted was for it to be back on again. I needed some kind of sensory input to tell me that my Sir was still there.
My heart began to beat faster as I felt the feelings of abandonment wake up from their slumber.
But just as soon as they opened their eyes, I felt a firm smack on my ass.
My body jerked at the sting, but it told me that he was still there. He was always watching me, making sure nothing bad was going to happen to me.
Smack.
My body jerked forward at the harsh sensation.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
I could feel that spot on my ass grow hot. I knew it must have been turning the deepest shade of red.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The pain and the heat was getting more intense. It was delicious.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
“Yellow,” I said.
The smacking immediately stopped, and I felt a warm, wet sensation on the spot. My Sir was licking it, coating his saliva on me like a salve.
Then there was an icy sensation. He must have been blowing on the wet spot, sending shivering waves of pleasure through my body.
The sensation of that hot spot being cooled was nothing short of divine.
The cold was replaced with a warm, caring touch as he caressed the globe of my ass gently with his hand.
“You’re a good boy. Such a good boy for using that safe word…”
Then I felt a bristling sensation as he pressed his lips forward and kissed the spot.
It made me feel cherished; worshipped.
It made me feel invincible.
“Green,” I said.
Almost immediately, I felt the kiss of the toy on that same spot on my ass.
Now the pain felt different — more pleasurable. It was like he was tenderizing my ass, and as the meat got more beat up, the more pleasure it caused me.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The pain bit me, but right after the initial shock, there was a rush of pleasure.
I bit my lip, and tears began to bead at the corners of my eyes. I began to cry out as the lashes increased in intensity.
“Ow, Ow!” I cried.
My Sir didn’t hesitate. I could tell that the display of my pain was turning him on.
Even though my body was reacting in this way, I still had a clear head. I still had all three of my safe words to use at my disposal without limits. I could say green, yellow, or red any time I wanted and as many times as I wanted.
In that way, I was the one in control. I was the one with the ultimate power, and those three words were all I had to remember. It was the only thing I had to keep track of.
“Oh-ho-ho, it hurts!” I whined.
Still, the bite of the toy whipped on that one tenderized spot on my ass.
It must have been shining red at this point.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Tears were streaming down my face and I was pressing my fingertips into the floor, loving being able to take all of this pain.
It was a strange thing, the way pain had this effect on me. Every blow was like a sharp sting of hurt, followed by a long tail of pleasure. It was a type of pleasure that I couldn’t get from regular sex; it was the type of pleasure that made its home inside of relief.
The smacking ceased, and my Sir began to tap the spot quickly and gently with a staccato rhythm.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!
The sensation it caused was completely different. This was more like teasing, but converted into touch instead of words.
There was an ache in my knees from kneeling on the floor too long, a pain I was only now beginning to notice. And the more I noticed it, the more it ached.
That wasn’t a good pain — it made me uncomfortable.
“Red,” I uttered.
The tapping immediately stopped.
After a few breaths, I heard my Sir say firmly, “Attention.”
The command reverberated through my body, and I rose to my feet without thinking.
Like my Sir had taught me, I was standing tall with my back straight, my eyes forward, and hands at my sides. My feet were shoulder-width apart.
My Sir was walking — no, prowling around me, examining my body. I didn’t know when he’d had time to change into one of his leather studded Dom outfits, but he was wearing it with pride.
His chest was bare, so I could see his rippling abs cascading down his body. Around both of his thick biceps were straps of leather with shining silver studs. His lower half was in leather pants, the ones with velcro that I knew could be torn off at any second. Black suspenders — also studded — sprouted from his belt loops and wrapped over his shoulders. His hands were in black leather gloves, and one of them was still wrapped around the riding crop.
And to top it all off, he was wearing his officer hat.
Sexiest cop ever, I thought to myself, feeling my knees weaken.
There was a profound confidence coming off of him, as if the air around his skin was shimmering with invisible letters that said, “I’m not fucking around.”
I felt in awe of him, a profound respect for him, and a little scared of him all at the same time.
It was a combination that aroused me to no end.
“You did very well, boy,” he said, rushing in and planting a swift kiss on my
lips. “You said red at the right time.”
He kissed me again, long and sensual.
Instinctually, I wanted to raise my hands and play in his hair, lose myself in a passionate make-out session, but I was in the Sub-Zone.
And in the Sub-Zone, there is only one rule to follow: Obey.
Standing naked before my Sir, I was reduced to a thing. All I had to do was to follow simple instructions and not think about anything else.
It was relaxing in its simplicity.
I watched his dark gaze move up and down my body, then lingered on my knees. Behind his eyes, I could see him put it together.
“Come with me, boy,” he said, gesturing to me and taking a few steps towards the bed. “Come on. Faster.”
I followed him, my naked body longing for his touch.
“On the bed,” he commanded, pointing to the bed.
I quickly scrambled onto the pristine sheets.
“Kneel.”
Following his command, I kneeled into child’s pose again. My knees pressed into the soft mattress, almost sighing with relief.
Once I was comfortable, I said, “Green.”
I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I could feel the mattress shift as he climbed onto the bed behind me.
The warm leather on his crotch pressed against my ass, and I felt desire pulse to my cock. It twitched to life, hardening with every heartbeat.
My Sir swept the palms of his hands over my ass cheeks in smooth, gentle circles.
When he grazed the tender spot, it sent an incredible sensation of pleasure coursing through me.
Soothing. This part, in the wake of the pain from before, was incredibly soothing.
It was short-lived, though, because the sensation on my intact ass cheek disappeared. He drew one of his hands away from my ass and then smacked it, hard.
Smack.
I lurched forward, not expecting the impact.
Then he did it again, his palm open so the noise cracked the air like a whip.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
I couldn’t help my body’s jerking reaction. With the leather over his hands, it gave the slapping sensation a more luxurious feel than normal.
It was almost as if the pain was coated in something more extravagant, like velvet.
After the fifth smack, my Sir soothed the tender skin. He moved his hand in broad, swooping circles.
The sensation was more than soothing — it was deliciously validating.
“You’ve been such a good boy tonight,” my Sir growled.
I felt a unique type of pride at his words. Like I’d had only one job and that I’d done outstanding work exceeding his expectations.
I felt like I was on top of the world.
Then he moved his hands from the swooping circles around my ass, over my hips, and pulled my ass right up against his crotch.
I could feel the warm, hard cylinder of his hard cock pressing hard against his leather pants. He must have been going crazy with want.
His left hand stopped at my hip, using it to keep my ass pressed against him. But his right hand kept going until it wrapped around my three-fourthsie.
I heard him grunt, a primal sound that drifted up to my ears and triggered some instinct within me. A shudder passed through my body.
My Sir released me, reached over to the nightstand where I’d placed a bottle of lube — label facing neatly outward of course — and I heard the distinct pop of the bottle cap.
A small farting noise sounded as he squirted some into his hand, then I heard the swishing motion of him rubbing his hands together.
The sound of him exhaling with his mouth open floated to my ears, and I guessed he was blowing hot air on his hands to heat the liquid.
It filled me with joy that he thought about that, too — that the temporary cold sensation might alter the way I was feeling things.
It was just more proof that I could trust my Sir to take care of all of my needs.
Then, he resumed the position he had me in earlier, with my ass pressed against his crotch, his left hand on my hip, and his right hand was snaking underneath to wrap around my throbbing erection.
It only took a few slow, slick strokes before my erection was hard and tight.
He kept stroking me, slowly at first, but then picked up speed.
He slid his left hand over my other ass cheek, panting the tender spot with the lube.
Ever the sensationalist, my Sir alternated sweeping lube over the spot and blowing cold air at it, all while slowly jerking me off.
I felt like my brain and body were going to explode. Every nerve was on fire, and I felt like if it could, my hole would be gaping with greed.
It seemed like an eternity he was doing that to me, pushing my senses to their limits.
My body bucked against him, practically begging for his cock.
Finally, I heard the rip of velcro and knew he was taking off his pants.
There was a pause our rhythm, some fumbling as he squirted more lube onto his hands, and then I felt his fingers dabble around the entrance of my hole.
“Such a beautiful pink hole…” he said, almost with reverence in his voice. “You take care of it so nicely.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I uttered, the side of my face pressed against the soft sheets.
His fingers danced around my hole, teasing me, then he inserted one of his slick digits inside.
I drew in a harsh breath, but this was less painful than I was used to. Priming me with all of that sensation play prepared me for this.
He worked that around a bit, loosening me up.
His other hand was on my low back, massaging me.
“Relax,” he commanded.
“Yes, sir.”
I focused on controlling my breathing, letting his fingers tantalize my body.
Everything was perfect. Everything was exactly where it needed to be.
Through controlling my breathing, I relaxed even more, and he slid another finger inside.
I moaned but made sure to breathe through it.
“Good boy,” he said, almost in a hushed tone.
After loosening me with two for a while, he slid a third inside.
I bit my lip as I felt the divine sensation of him stretching me. I knew what came next…
After a minute or so of three fingers — I couldn’t tell, it wasn’t my job to keep track of time — I got antsy. I was being tortured; pleasure was being withheld from me.
It made me a little angry the longer I had to wait.
“Give it to me,” I commanded, my voice low like a Dom.
He stopped the movement of his fingers, letting them rest inside my hole as my body pulsed around them.
“What did you say, boy?” he asked.
“I said give it to me,” I said, my voice coming out sassier than I expected.
We were both still on the bed, and for a few heartbeats, I wondered if I’d done something wrong. I wondered if I was in trouble and felt the delicious fear leak into my senses.
But then he chuckled, the sound low and filled with light. “Always the Bossy Bottom…”
“No. I’m a Power Bottom,” I said with sass. “I know what I want, and you’re gonna give it to me.”
He paused, and I wondered if I’d taken him out of the moment.
“As you wish,” he finally said, resuming his dancing fingers inside of me.
I’d never felt more powerful than I did in that moment.
Then, one by one, he withdrew his sausage-sized fingers, letting my body snap down on the remainders until they were all gone.
There was a pause as I imagined him smearing lube on his thick cock, and then I felt something blunt press between my ass cheeks.
No matter how many times we did this, I was always surprised by how big he was.
“Relax,” he commanded again, pressing his slick palm onto my lower back.
I let out a breath, and my Sir pressed into me, the head slowly driving into my body.
&nb
sp; Feeling my body stretch for his girth felt divine. It was like I was allowing him into the most sacred, intimate part of me. But doing it this way, playing the role of Dom and sub, felt somehow more intimate. It was like I was letting him into the deepest parts of both my body and my mind at the same time, creating an even stronger bond of trust and pleasure.
He slowly worked himself in, and like always, I could only take him halfway.
He pulled out carefully until nothing but his thick head was inside, then plunged inside slowly.
Again and again, we kept doing this until we found a delicious rhythm.
Knowing that we were both clean, I loved having his naked dick in me, being able to feel him skin to skin. It was amazing. It was epic.
It felt natural; it felt like this was how things were always supposed to be.
He tilted so his tip pressed against my prostate with each thrust.
That deep button inside me was like an orgasm button, and without him having to reach around and jerk me off again, I felt the orgasm rush through me.
“Oh my God, oh my God, Sir, I’m coming!” I cried as thick white ropes pulsed out of my cock, looped in the air as I jerked backward, and landed on the sheets.
My Sir let out a low growl, a drawn-out low sound through his nose.
Even though I wasn’t looking at his face, I knew his nostrils were flaring when he made that noise, and that his eyes would be squeezed shut.
He wrapped his arms around my torso and thrusted hard once, twice, three times, and then I felt something hot erupt inside my ass.
His cock pulsed inside of me, ejecting his seed into my body and filling my passage with his cum.
“Fuuuuck yeah…” he breathed, holding me tight.
With his powerful arms, he pulled me up into a sitting position so I was on his lap with his cock inside me.
I could still feel his cock pulse inside of me like I was nothing more than a finger puppet.
His beard bristled against the right side of my neck, so I leaned back and kissed him.
Our lips were dancing together, melding into shapes to fit one another perfectly.
I reached down and felt the come dribbling out of the tip of my still hard cock and began to stroke myself again.
“Keep doing that,” my Sir commanded between kisses, beginning to buck his hips.
We kept going like that for a while. Me jerking myself off, him impaling me while holding me upright in his strong arms, and our mouths melding together between breaths. At times, I felt like a baby bird begging for scraps of food from his mouth; scraps of validation.
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