Midnight Caller

by NJ Cole

  She reached for my hair, attempting to pull me closer to her. Luckily for her and her breast, my speed was far superior to hers. I jumped back quickly and grabbed both of her wrists. If I hadn’t been quick with my movement, I may have lost control and her breast would have been filled with toxin. I was furious with her for moving, and myself for putting her in danger.

  She needed to learn right away that she had to obey me.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing, little girl?” I growled. “I never told you to move. You will not touch me unless directed to. Is that clear?”

  She nodded, trembling. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she stuttered.

  “I did not tell you to speak. And you will address yourself as butterfly.”

  I was so angry; I had to take a step back so I could calm down, reminding myself that this was her first time, and that she was human. Still, she had to learn—not only because submissives shouldn’t dictate the scene, but also for her safety. I waited until I felt like I was totally in control and then released her wrists. After grabbing the rope, I moved behind her and bound them together behind her back. I picked up the end of her leash, preparing to move her to the whipping bench. I hadn’t planned on spanking her tonight, but one thing I had learned from being a Dom was that no matter how carefully you planned a scene, you had to be ready to make adjustments. The incident that had happened moments ago was exactly why.

  Chapter 23

  butterfly

  “That was a mistake, little girl. One that has earned you a punishment.”

  My heart was racing.

  “What flower are you on, butterfly?”

  I thought for a moment. Though I was frightened, I didn’t want him to stop. “Lily,” I squeaked.

  He didn’t respond verbally, but he pulled on the leash. I knew I should be offended by wearing a dog’s collar and being led around like an animal, but it had me beyond aroused.

  “This, little girl, is the whipping bench,” he said as I felt a piece of furniture in front of me. “Kneel.”

  I knelt, my knees touching leather, as did my breasts when he pulled me forward by the leash. My heart began to race, not knowing what would come next.

  As if sensing my panic, he calmed me by explaining what would happen. “I will use my hand today, little one, and only deliver five punishment strokes.”

  Did he mean he was going to spank me? I hadn’t received a spanking since I was four-years-old. I didn’t have to wonder for long because his hand made contact with my ass, and the slap echoed in the room. It hurt, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was the tingle I felt on my clit with each blow. I moaned at the combination of pain and pleasure each time his hand came in contact with my ass. It was over before it began, and I was almost disappointed. When he was finished, he pulled me back upright.

  “Now, you will stay still, little one, or I will find a less desirable punishment. Perhaps I will leave you here alone for a while, since it is evident by the wetness running down your legs that you enjoyed that more than it punished you.”

  I didn’t want to be left alone. I wanted to feel his hands on me. I nodded my head and followed his lead back to the high table he’d had me on earlier. Once I was in the inspection position again, I felt his hands move all over my body. They were cool and firm, yet soft as they touched me. I concentrated on not moving as he caressed and stroked me. His hands found their way to my breasts again, and this time he squeezed with both hands. When his mouth took my nipple into it, I groaned but kept very still.

  “Such a good girl, but such a little slut,” he said, lowering his hand while he continued to suck, pulling my nipple farther into his mouth

  While he sucked on my breast, his hands continued to explore my body. Moving lower and lower, he paused at my hip for only a moment before sliding between my folds. I moaned in pleasure, but made sure not to grind onto his hand.

  “Such a wet little slut. You want to come, don’t you?”

  I nodded my head—my entire clit throbbing. I knew I would come in seconds.

  “You will not come until I say, is that clear?”

  I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to control my orgasm. I’d done it when I was masturbating for him, but with him here, possibly touching me, I worried how long I’d be able to hold off.

  He continued to tease my clit until suddenly, without warning, he thrust a finger into me, pumping it in and out slowly. The sounds of my wetness had my cheeks pink. I could smell myself too, as the aroma in the room was nearly overpowering.

  He added a second finger and began pumping it in and out of me quickly while sucking harder on my nipple.

  I knew I was close. I couldn’t hold on much longer.

  “Not yet, butterfly,” he said, removing his fingers to give me a chance to calm down.

  He released my breast, and I had to bite my lip hard to stop the orgasm that was still building.

  “Such a good girl. Would you like to come now?” he asked after a few moments.

  I nodded my head.

  “Not yet, butterfly,” he chuckled.

  When he pressed his fingers back into me slowly, I groaned in pleasure and frustration. With each movement, he flicked his thumb across my clit. My legs began to tremble as he licked his way up my stomach. He commanded me, right before he roughly sucked my other breast into his mouth, “Come for me, butterfly.”

  And I did.

  Oh, I did.

  I loved his touch so much that when I came, I could feel my come squirt from my body. I’d never squirted with another person in the room, and I worried about his reaction to it until he spoke.

  “That was beautiful, butterfly,” he said, releasing my breast from his mouth. “My little come slut likes it when I am rough with her. Doesn’t she?”

  I nodded, too breathless to speak.

  “Are you tired, little one?” he asked, and although I was sure he knew the answer, I nodded again.

  “Too bad, because I’m not tired. I’m going to untie your hands, but you are not to move them.”

  I nodded.

  He untied my wrists, massaging them until the slight pain I had from the ropes was gone. “Lie on your stomach, butterfly,” he commanded.

  When I lay down, I found the leather wet and slippery. I realized that I was lying in a pool of my come, causing my cheeks to heat with embarrassment. Being this wet, coming this much, surely wasn’t normal. He must have noticed too.

  “You are a little come slut, aren’t you?” he said as he spread my legs over the sides. I was now straddling the table, my pussy spread wide for him to see. He grabbed the backs of my thighs and pulled me down to the edge. I moved easily, gliding on my own wetness, feeling it on my cheek and then in my hair. Before the scene, I’d wished that I wasn’t wearing a blindfold so I could see. After coming so much, I was grateful I couldn’t. I knew I must have been a sight to see, covered in my own arousal. Apparently my Sir liked it though, because his next words thrilled me.

  “Are you ready to get fucked? Speak.”

  I wasn’t sure I could speak. My voice was more of a whimper when I responded, ”Yes, Sir.”

  I felt the glass dildo press against me and then rub along my slit. Over and over he teased me until finally, when I thought I could take no more, he slowly pressed the dildo into me. He worked it in and out slowly—the pace maddening. I needed it harder, faster, anything to give me the release he was now building inside of me. I groaned in frustration, to which he stopped moving altogether and pulled out the dildo.

  “We can stop anytime you want to. Is that what you want, little girl?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then, you will accept the way in which I use your body, and be grateful if I let you come. Is that clear?”

  I nodded again, hoping and praying that he would continue. To my relief, he resumed his movements, though they seemed even slower and more painstaking than before. I was careful this time, and did not move or make a sound while he tortured me with ple
asure. Slowly, my orgasm built. I was sure that he was going to tell me to hold off, but as it was getting too intense to bear, he whispered, “Come when you’re ready, butterfly.”

  I allowed the sensation to build for a moment more and then gave myself over to it, rejoicing in the euphoric feeling that flooded my body, escaping in wave after wave of fluid that left me. I didn’t get to bask in the afterglow for long, though. It wasn’t even five seconds before he spoke.

  “I bet you liked that. I bet my girl liked it when her Sir fucked her slow. But now, we’re going to see if my little come slut can totally give her body to her Sir. I am going to use your body for my pleasure, little one.”

  I felt my heart race at his words—the excitement building at the thought of him finding pleasure in me.

  “Are you ready, butterfly?”

  I nodded.

  “Because I will not stop using your body for my pleasure until I am completely satisfied. It doesn’t matter to me if you come or not. You may come as often and whenever you’d like. You may also make as much noise as you’d like, and say what you’d like, as long as you are respectful. But know that no matter what you say, I will continue using that hot little body until I’m finished—unless you say the safe word. If you say that word, it will be done and I will not start again. Do you remember the safe word, butterfly? Speak.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said breathlessly.

  “Good, then get up on your hands and knees. Now!”

  His tone had changed, his words more rough and demanding. I moved quickly to my hands and knees, locking my elbows, bracing for whatever was to come.

  His hands were more demanding too as he reached under me and grabbed my breast roughly. I loved it rough, but no man I’d ever been with had pinched and tugged at my nipples the way my Sir was doing. It felt amazing. I threw my head back and groaned in pleasure.

  “Such sweet tits my little girl has,” he said, making me smile proudly.

  I gasped in surprise as I felt first one then two things being placed on my nipples. It felt like they were pulling gently, and I realized they were the two small suction cup nipple devices. The feeling was heavenly. That sensation alone would have likely brought me to orgasm, but he gave me added pleasure by pressing the dildo back into me. This time his movements were quicker.

  I tried to hold off, but within a few minutes I was screaming out as my third orgasm rocketed through me. I hadn’t even finished coming before he clicked the bullet on and pressed it into my clit.

  “Holy shit!” I screamed, trying to calm from my orgasm. That was not going to happen. He was still fucking me hard and fast with the dildo while his other hand was moving and pressing the bullet between my pussy lips.

  My fourth orgasm came quickly, as did my fifth and sixth and so on. My legs were shaking and my body was covered in sweat as he continued to pound the dildo into my pussy and rock the bullet back and forth over my engorged clit. I began to wonder if it were possible to die from too many orgasms. Several times, he had removed the nipple suckers to pull and tug on my peaks, replacing them when he was finished, and each time, I came harder than the last.

  I never considered using the safe word, for fear that it would not only end our night, but would end us totally. Though my body was aching for rest, the fact that I was pleasing him made me feel good, and for that reason, I didn’t want it to end. But it did end. And with mixed sadness and relief, I felt him pull the dildo from me one final time. My muscles trembled.

  “That was beautiful, butterfly,” he said softly. He lifted me effortlessly from the table and held me in his arms, then set me down on what felt like the couch. “What flower are you on, butterfly?” he asked as he massaged my legs and arms.

  “Lily, Sir,” I said as my limbs ceased to shake.

  Chapter 24

  Sir

  I’d fucked her. Hard. I hadn’t been gentle with my words, and I sure hadn’t been gentle with my hands. She’d shown a lot of promise earlier, and I wanted to know how much my little girl could take. I needed to see if she had the endurance to submit to me. I also wanted to show her ultimate pleasure so that she’d be hooked—willing to do anything to feel good, obey my every command.

  I’d planned on making her come a few times, but she ended up having eleven orgasms in the playroom. Each time I asked her what color she was on she had said lily. I truly believed she would pass out before she would say rose or mum, and that realization thrilled me more than anything. I had hoped that she’d like to submit to me, but I had never dreamed the first time would go that well.

  My little butterfly loved my touch. I knew that she loved it when she squeezed and pinched her nipples during sex, but hearing a low groan from her and watching her throw her head back in pleasure let me know that she liked it when I did it, too. I could pinch and twist her nipples for hours, listening to her moan. Mentally, I made a note to myself that if this went well, I needed to plan an entire session just for nipple training.

  Her orgasms were just as spectacular in person. The first time she came, she came hard, the fluid squirting from her body. I’d seen her squirt a few of the times that I’d had her perform for me. This time I didn’t see it but rather felt it. Most of it had landed on the table, but a few drops had landed on my chest. The idea of having her come on me—because of my fingers, my commands—made me feel powerful, and I was filled with the need to fuck her. So I did, the only way I could

  . I knew that I would never be able to take her in the way my body yearned to, but I wanted to know what she could handle. It fueled my fantasies to watch her get fucked at the speed I longed to.

  When I finally stopped, her entire body was covered in sweat, her hair soaked, and she had this glow about her that made her look even more beautiful than before, if that was possible.

  “That was beautiful, butterfly.”

  I carried her from the bench to the couch. Seeing her muscles shake, I knew that there was no way she would be able to walk.

  “What color are you on, butterfly?”

  “Lily, Sir,” she replied in a tone of complete contentment.

  Massaging a human was not as easy as you would think. Touching one was easier; you simply pressed as lightly as you could so you didn’t break them. When it came to massages, they wanted to feel your touch. You needed to make the muscles relax, and that was just what I did. I continued massaging her arms and legs until her limbs stopped trembling and felt loose. I knew that she’d be sore and tired in the morning, but she was well enough to clean the playroom and get herself back to her apartment.

  “Good girl,” I said, finishing up her massage. “Now, I am going to leave. Take as long as you want to lie here, then you may use the bathroom and the shower to wash up. Of course you will clean the playroom too, since you have made quite a mess in here.” I chuckled at the pink that tinged her cheeks.

  I walked out of the playroom, the erection prominent in my pants, and I hurried to the viewing room, happy to see that she hadn’t moved. I wanted to see the expression on her face when she saw the puddle she had created by giving herself to me.

  A few moments later, she sat up and removed her blindfold, blinking into the dimly lit room. She glanced around and then her eyes trained in on the table. The leather was covered with fluid, and there were several places where it had dripped to the floor. My girl was a squirter, and I couldn’t be happier. The fact that she seemed embarrassed by that was the cherry on top!

  I finally gave my cock some attention as she went to the bathroom and came back with some rags and disinfectant. I stroked myself while watching her tits jiggle as she walked around cleaning. Her scent was still on my skin, causing my orgasm to come hard and fast.

  When she was done cleaning up, she disappeared into the bathroom. I couldn’t see what she was doing in the shower, so I made a mental note to bathe her during one of our future lessons—perhaps even tomorrow.

  After she left, I walked back into the playroom, which was spotless. Her scent stil
l lingered, though the scent of cleaner was stronger. I moved around, touching where she had been, remembering and planning—planning what was to come next.

  I called her before she went to bed, keeping the message simple. “Thank you for giving yourself to me, butterfly. That pleased me.”

  When she woke, I called again, this time to wish her a good morning. I instructed her to meet me in the playroom at one o’clock.

  As she rolled over in bed, I watched her wince. She pulled back the blanket and looked between her legs. Though there were no marks anywhere on her body, I was sure that she was sore, her pussy in particular. I liked that she had a constant reminder of what had happened last night.

  Around ten o’clock, she jumped in fright as the doorbell rang with the flowers I’d ordered for her to thank her for giving herself to me. They were Stargazer Lilies, and the card simply read: “Almost as beautiful as you, butterfly.” The delivery man also delivered her journal from the playroom. I made sure to tie a ribbon around it so that she would know he hadn’t read it.

  I loved how she beamed as she set the flowers in the window. She then sat down at the table and wrote in her journal. I’d read her response from her first visit, and today I wanted her to write about her experience from last night. I knew she hadn’t used her safe words, but I wanted to know about all of her feelings.

  At one o’clock, she stood outside of the playroom, journal in hand. I had asked her to leave the journal outside with her clothes; I wanted to read it before I began our scene, as her reactions to last night would guide me today. After she went through the red door, I opened the journal to read what she wrote under my question. I had simply asked: How do you feel about last night?