by Nikki Sex
Crack!
He hits my right cheek again, only lower. The sound of his belt as it strikes my bare flesh is incredible. It’s erotic. It’s sexy. Jesus. My skin tingles and every nerve wakes. What is it about his damn belt? I’m drawn to it. I feel tamed and enflamed by it. Feelings and sensations overwhelm me.
This second hit settles the question. I absolutely don’t want anymore. The strike burns deeply, brutally zapping every nerve. Yet almost immediately afterward, it blows my mind.
All that pain and heat transforms into something else. Into pure, raw and excruciating pleasure.
Crack!
He hits the upper part of my left cheek. Tears roll down my face, but I’m not sure if I’m crying from pain, or an abundance of emotion. I consider calling my safeword, but I don’t.
What the fuck? Paul punishing me makes me feel desirable and loved. It also makes me even more desperate to please him. What the hell is that about?
I whimper and moan, unsure of how to deal with the myriad of overwhelming emotions and sensations.
“Breathe, Emily,” he murmurs.
He gently caresses my welts, allowing me a moment to catch my breath. It hurts like a son of a bitch, but I want another. What’s wrong with me? My pussy aches and delicious warmth spreads through me, literally from the pain in and on my ass. I’m on fire and as horny as hell.
Paul is all cool control. Something about him disciplining me so harshly makes me feel like I belong to him even more. He owns me. If he wants to punish me, that’s up to him. I yield, because I’m his.
With that thought my body loosens. I relax, because I trust him.
“That’s it, Em. Good girl. That’s the way. Don’t brace or flinch. Surrender to it. Accept it and it will go easier.”
“Yes, Paul,” I say.
Crack!
He hits the lower part of my left cheek. Ouch. He’s right though. The pain turns into pleasure much faster when I give in.
I tilt my head to see him and holy shit he’s in his element. Paul’s physical dominance is so damn sexy. He grips the belt with one hand and his engorged hard-on with the other. His expression is fierce and his eyes flare with hunger as he strokes his cock.
I can see his control slipping.
Yes. A shot of joy floods my body and a rush of pleasure heats my skin. This is turning him on, too. Knowing that heightens my own excitement.
“One last strike,” he growls, “and your punishment is complete.”
Crack!
The final blow is lighter, a direct hit across both cheeks and a direct hit on the plug. For a moment I stop breathing, but suck in a breath, inhaling deeply. Oh, fuck. My molten core clenches hard. I feel the vibration of that last stroke everywhere.
Instead of pain, electric sensation zings through me, setting my clit alight. My spread thighs tremble as I kneel, my ass in the air on the bed. I’m shaking and more aroused than ever.
My eyes sting and tears continue to flow, not because of pain, or humiliation but from other emotions. I feel sexual and impassioned, yet also safe, happy and loved.
I’ve completely lost my mind.
Paul drops the belt and moves to me, squatting down beside the bed to meet my eyes. I must look a complete mess, but what he sees pleases him. His thumb traces my tears, wiping them away.
“You did well, Emily. Your discipline is over now. I’m so proud of you.”
I feel a clutch at my heart. My breath catches in another sob. More tears flow. His approval makes me incredibly happy.
“Thank you,” I say and my voice cracks.
“My beautiful girl.” Calloused fingers push a few sweaty tendrils of hair away from my face. He kisses me, pressing his lips gently to my cheeks, temple and forehead. “I’m so lucky,” he rasps. “You give me exactly what I need.”
Paul stands up and his jutting shaft swings and bobs as he moves. My mouth waters when I see it. His erection is huge.
He places a hand on me and runs one large palm from my nape to the welts on my bottom. My poor abused skin is so sensitive, but the feel of his palm thrills me.
I sigh deeply. His caress gives me goose bumps. This gentle touch after the harshness of his belt feels like an extraordinary gift.
“God I love this beautiful ass of yours. You have no idea how gorgeous it is.” Paul continues to tenderly touch me with gentle fingers. “Round, shapely, taut and firm. Right now it’s a wonderful crimson color.”
He strokes my burning buttocks then lightly taps and tugs on my butt plug. Erotic sensation rips right through me. I give a low moan.
He chuckles. “You like the feel of that.”
It’s a statement so I don’t answer. I’m kind of wordless right now anyway.
“I enjoy seeing this plug buried deep inside of this greedy, luscious ass of yours,” he rasps. “Stretching this tight, hungry hole. Preparing you to accept my cock.”
Fuck. The raunchy things he says makes my pussy pulse and tighten. Liquid heat pools from my waist down. I’m so hot and horny. Why doesn’t he fuck me?
I whimper, moan and quake. I can’t do anything. I don’t want to do anything except take whatever Paul sees fit to give me.
What happens now? Paul is in control.
I’m still riding that roller coaster and I never want to get off.
Chapter 26.
“I have not met a woman who is incapable of multiple orgasms.”
– André Chevalier
~~~
“Please, Paul,” I whisper, but I’m not sure what I’m asking for.
“Shush, shush,” he murmurs. The sound of his voice is so soothing. It rolls over me in an intimate caress. “I’ll take care of you. It’s time for your reward.”
I feel the mattress dip as he kneels on the end of the bed and parts the swollen lips of my sex.
“Spread your legs further apart,” he says. When I do, I feel his warm tongue.
“Oh, God,” I grind out as a bolt of pure pleasure flashes through my whole body. My sex twitches and I scream louder than I did when being struck with his belt.
Because I’m on my knees, head down with my ass in the air, Paul needs to get right between my legs to reach my clitoris. His velvet tongue runs from my clitoris, along the sensitive edges of my folds, where he rims my aching, empty hole.
He licks me again and again, with deep male growls of satisfaction. My distended clit pulses from an ever increasing blood flow.
“Mmmm. You taste so good.”
“Oh, please,” I beg. “Please may I come?”
“No.” His tone is pitiless.
I tremble uncontrollably. I plead for him to let me come, I sob with desperate need, begging for him to fuck me. I’m so close to climax. When my inner muscles contract, so does my asshole. With that plug up there, I really feel the sensation of fullness and pressure.
Each time, my body spasms in both places.
I hear him breathing hard, heavy and ragged with arousal. This seriously makes me hotter, which is bizarre. How could I get any hotter than I was just moments ago?
Paul’s good at that. Every time I think he’s pushed me to the highest and most intense sensation that anyone could ever experience, he surpasses it, blowing me away even more the next time.
The man is like Chuck Yeager, breaking through my pleasure barriers, one after another. He’s a sexual Einstein or something. Fucking hell. Or more accurately… fucking heaven.
I honestly don’t think I can take any more. I feel as if I could die from all this sensation, or at least explode.
I can see the headlines now: “Woman’s body bursts into flames during sexual marathon. First fully documented case of spontaneous human combustion.”
Somehow, I stifle a giggle.
Maybe he’ll fuck me, now that he’s disciplined me. The idea of keeping the anal plug in, while Paul fills my neglected pussy is entrancing. How will that feel? Full. Definitely full. Crowded even. Jam-packed with wicked goodness.
“Please f
uck me,” I moan. “Please, I’m begging you, Paul. I’ll be your slave. I’ll fucking do anything you want. Pleeeeease!” I wail pathetically. “I want you. I need you. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”
He gives a strangled laugh at that. “Come for me, Emily,” he orders in a stern, simple command.
He gently pulls my anal plug, in and out, fucking my sore and sensitive ass. Then he thrusts two fingers inside my pussy and flicks my clit all at once. It’s all too much. Too much sensation. My rear end burns with heat, both inside and out.
“Paul,” I gasp with concentrated bliss. My inner muscles give a hard pulse.
“That’s right, sweetheart.” His voice is soft and loving. “You are such a good girl.” Overwhelmed by his unexpected gentle side to Paul, I almost burst into tears.
“Give it to me now,” he says, in a compelling tone of command. “I want to see you come.”
I explode in an orgasm, while my hips thrust and grind against his hand. What the hell? In the back of my mind, I wonder if I’m urinating. But no. Hot, wet arousal floods with every inner spasm, running down my thighs and no doubt flooding our bed.
I hear him bite off an unintelligible curse.
“You drive me to madness. You make me lose control,” he says under his breath, almost to himself,
Control? Well. I have no control when I’m with him. He has it all and I like it that way. Paul makes me breathless and boneless. He brings me to sensual heights that I’ve never imagined.
This sexual chemistry is a bonus, because I’m also deeply in love.
I feel the mattress move, he’s gotten off it and stands at the end of the bed. With firm, urgent hands, he grabs my hips in a bruising grip. The head of his cock rubs along my sensitive sex and teases my entrance.
Abruptly, he thrusts inside of me.
I give a low groan and my body quakes, shot right to the edge of release once more. He must be happy with me, as he has given me his cock. He’s pushed it deep inside of me. It’s an honor. It’s a reward. It’s an incredible privilege.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you,” I whisper, over and over again, like some sort of Buddhist mantra. I’m lost in pleasure.
“Fuck, you’re so damned tight,” he gasps.
My only answer is a strangled moan. Sensation overpowers me. I work to absorb the erotic bliss of being filled so completely in both my ass and my cunt. The pressure turns to pure pleasure, so concentrated and intense.
What is it about his taking me from behind? My face mashes into the mattress, my sensitive nipples rub against the sheets, my legs are spread wide and my ass is in the air. Why is this such a turn-on?
I can’t see Paul’s face in this position. I can’t see him at all. It’s like being blindfolded. It heightens my other senses. I’m forced to feel him, hear him and smell him. And I do. Holy shit, I really do.
“I want you to come again,” he growls, his voice deep with raw lust, his breathing harsh and ragged. “I want you to come with me inside of you. I want to feel your tight, hot cunt squeeze my cock and bathe me with your slick, wet release.”
“Ahhhh,” I gasp, so incredibly turned on. My entire body clenches.
Paul curses under his breath when I tighten, clamping down on his sensitive cock. I could climax just hearing his voice. But the things he says! Damn. His words are so fucking hot and down and dirty. He makes such primal male demands.
I pant, I cry. My tears flow steadily. It’s so much. Too much. I don’t know if I can handle this.
My whole body shakes. Both of my holes are full, filled to bursting. I’ve never known such incredible, mind-blowing pressure. The sensation of him stretching me, combined with his command, makes me come again. I wail with the exquisite, overwhelming pleasure of it.
“Fuck, yes,” he says in a guttural voice as I come. Paul slams in and out, in and out, using me. Taking me.
This is a hard, fast fuck. The feel of rhythmic pounding is heightened by the plug inside of me and his bruising grip on my waist and hips. I’m blissed out and exhausted. I hear the slap of flesh on flesh, as his hips pound against me. I’m dripping with arousal.
The smell of sweat and sex fills the air. The unique musky scent of Paul teases my nostrils. I’m still bound to the headboard and my wrists pull helplessly against their bindings.
Paul’s demanding hands grip me, his cock jerks and pulses. With the plug burning, stretching and filling my ass, his erection feels at least twice as big as it moves inside of me. My channel contracts and this surprises me.
Holy hell. Surely, I can’t climax again?
“Shit,” Paul shouts when my spasm grips his shaft. “Come, Emily,” he orders in that sexy, demanding Dom voice of his. It’s even sexier because I’m aware of his struggle to maintain control of his own orgasm.
“I‘m your Master,” he growls. “Do as I say. Come again for me. Now.”
The sound of my sobs, whimpers and screams, mix with his deep groans of satisfaction. A heavy weight settles low inside me. It’s too much. Too much sensation, too much pleasure, too much pain. I can possibly climax again. I can’t. But my body responds to his demand.
I come once more, hard.
He controls me with a firm grip, as his hips continue to piston. Paul fucks me, slamming into me with punishing blows. “That’s right,” he says, with a guttural grunt. “Now take my cum.”
He calls my name and his huge cock jumps, as he empties himself inside of me. I feel every jetting pulse of his release. The assault on my senses makes me gasp. A wave of pleasure shoots through me like a bolt of electricity, causing my whole body to convulse and shudder. My hands fist and my toes curl.
Unexpectedly, I slam into another highpoint, another release.
Then I pass out. Again.
Chapter 27.
“A sub or slave craves to please and serve another. In doing so, they are well content. Yet they are not truly fulfilled unless they are regularly and often, cherished and cared for by their Dom or Master. Never is this more important than as part of aftercare.”
– André Chevalier
~~~
PAUL
Fuck. It’s pretty well an all-encompassing word.
Fuck. That was fucking hot scene. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. It’s because of Emily. We know each other so well and we’re compatible as all hell.
Fuck. I didn’t hit her hard with my belt, but I didn’t need to. The sounds and movements that she made were more than enough. It was so intense. Emily submits to me completely, she holds nothing back. I’ve never experienced anything like what we have before.
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to fuck her. I was using delayed gratification, but I couldn’t resist. I lost control. No, I’m lying to myself. It was more like I threw all control away. I had to bury myself inside of her. Otherwise I felt as if I’d die.
Fuck. Mind blowing and worth it. I feel so powerful. I feel like I’m mainlining adrenaline straight into my veins when I dominate my little rabbit. She sends me far off into the zone. I feel like superman when I’m with her.
Fuck. I don’t need anything. I only need Emily.
Outside of the bedroom we’re best friends. But during sex? Physically and emotionally, we connect. I know her better than I know myself.
I smile, recalling her reaction to the brushing, the spanking and my belt. She hates pain, but she’ll take it for me. When I take her to the edge of her endurance, she loves it. Could she be more perfect?
I spend time carefully taking care of Emily in her barely conscious state. When I remove the plug, she hardly stirs. Untying her wrists, I shift her into a more comfortable position. I check her welts – no problem. Her ass is still a nice red. I cover her with a sheet and blanket and clean up.
When I return, I cuddle up to her and wait for her to come back to herself.
Kinky sex is the best way that I know to explore another person. How could it be otherwise when so much trust is involved? When I’m in the zone, awareness of my part
ner becomes profound. For me, a sexy D/s scene heightens intimacy and goes way beyond the scope of anything that vanilla sex could offer.
Don’t get me wrong. I still enjoy vanilla sex. I’m a guy after all. All sex is good as long as I call the shots.
It takes patience, observation and time for a Dom to know a sub and to learn all their non-verbal signals: breathing patterns, pulse, sweat, pupil dilation, flinching, tension, swelling, flushing. Subs might try to hide their passions, but their bodily responses don’t lie.
What Emily and I have is more than what I’ve experienced of Dom and sub or Master and slave. For me, this kind of connection is completely new. We bond as lovers, too. We’re perfect for each other.
Of course, kinky sex isn’t the only way to connect. You can get to know someone by spending time together under the same roof. Seeing them wake up in the morning, sharing meals, watching TV and of course, talking. I’m living with Emily, when up until now, I’ve rarely spent more than a few hours with any woman.
Living together adds a whole new facet to our relationship.
I used to prefer being alone, but that was before I realized that I was lonely. Em’s my best friend and my love. Sharing my personal space with her is fun. Everything is different with her at my side.
Usually a person sees others only on their best behavior. Either consciously or subconsciously, people display only the public side of themselves, the disguise they want others to see.
I know all about that. Growing up, my family looked happy. Only behind closed doors, could you see the truth behind our masks and see how miserable we were. As a child, I grew up thinking that this behavior was ‘normal.’
The public side of Emily and the personal side of her are the same person. My little rabbit is genuine, but she doesn’t show all of herself to anyone except me.
We really know each other.
For a moment, that crazy fear of losing her intrudes on my contentment. Fuck that. Somehow I’ll get her to marry me. Soon. I just have to figure out how.
Restless, I check on Emily and I walk out to the kitchen. I get a beer out of the fridge and take a long drink. I pour Emily a glass of O.J. because that’s what she’d like best. I carry our drinks back to our bedroom, put her glass on the nightstand and climb back in bed.