The raging hardness he'd felt before had diminished only slight and at the thought of her complete dependence on him, it swelled again. He needed to stop her tears now before she went deeper into her mind than was healthy. He whispered, "Kiss me".
There was no hesitation. She put her lips softly against his, she'd reached utter surrender and was now ready to be reborn again, his possession, waiting to be taught what he desired.
"Lick me," he whispered into her mouth. "Taste me."
She ran her tongue over his lips, her eyes closed contentedly, again the baby kitten looking to nurse. She licked his cheek, leaving a cool wet trail. She licked his ear, sucked the lobe, then licked down his neck.
"Mmmmm," she murmured, letting herself get lost in the sensuality of the act. As she ran her tongue over his chest, she squeezed her thighs together, feeling new moisture trickling there.
She took time to flick both his nipples, grown hard with his own arousal, and she licked down to the small part of his navel.
"Suck me," he commanded now in the same breathless whisper that seemed to draw her out of herself. He let his hand rest lightly in her hair.
Her tongue trailed down into the line of his pubic hair, the coarseness of it tickling her cheeks.
"Smell me," he hissed and she became aware of how strong his scent was. Sweaty as her own had been the rush of his testosterone was almost bitter in her nostrils. She licked his engorged shaft before settling her lips on the softer, more sensitive glans. His flesh tasted good to her, warm and alive and filling her mouth.
Forgetting that she was supposed to be giving him pleasure, she luxuriated in the feeling of sucking. Of licking with her tongue as she moved her head around, rubbing his cock against all the surfaces inside her mouth. She moaned with pleasure as a rush of pre-cum painted her tongue, setting all her tastebuds on fire.
She began to suck him harder, hungrily, hardly aware of his sounds of gratification when she suddenly felt his hand tighten against the back of her head. He was pushing her deeper onto his cock.
When it first touched the back of her throat, she gagged and pulled off a little. He gave her this initial respite but only for a moment. Then he was pushing her head down even more insistently.
Panic rose in her as she began to gag and she tried to pull away again but now his other hand was there too, gripping a fistful of her hair.
"Don’t fight me, Kim," he told her. "There's nothing to fear."
But she did fear. It was her nature to fear. And the arousal and the fear mixed together potently and flooded her body with raw desire that she didn't comprehend.
She'd trusted him so far and she wanted so very much to please him. The sucking was comforting to her and she tried to focus on that instead of the continual gagging it caused.
His hips thrust slowly now, moving his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. She gagged over and over, sometimes feeling as though she couldn't breathe, sometimes feeling as if she were trying to swallow the obstruction away. She tried to keep sucking him but she couldn't. Her whole world had narrowed down to this one point, her throat full of his cock and spasming convulsively around it.
Kim was crying freely now, but not fighting, she was afraid but not panicking. Her stomach began to knot up with each gag and she fought to keep from throwing up.
Scott's moans grew louder and that sound alone echoed in her head. She could not believe that this was about to bring her to orgasm!
"Let go!" he shouted at her. "Let it all go, Kim!"
She choked one last time before her tortured stomach could take no more. As her own orgasm began to wrack her body, hot bile rose in her throat. Her body rejected all the wine she'd drank, sending it up and out into her mouth, burning her as it came. The sensation was indescribable, the letting go of every muscle and every inhibition made her cry out in the pure ecstasy of abandonment.
When the hot liquid boiled up into her mouth and touched his cock, Scott immediately began to cum. Kim's body continued to automatically try to swallow it all away and the muscles of her throat masturbated him until there was not a drop left inside him. He knew she was in distress, choking and coughing, and he pulled out quickly now.
She gasped loudly, finally able to suck in a full breath. Sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body had gone limp.
He circled her protectively and whispered reassuringly to her, telling her how wonderful she was, how brave she was, how much he loved her.
When her breath evened out, he kissed her gently, the mixture of tastes in her mouth threatening to make him dizzy.
Kim did not speak. She had reached that mindspace she craved, where there was nothing but the sensation of floating peacefully. She could only go there because she knew that her body was safe with him as she drifted. She could hear his voice in the distance telling her it was so. Praising her, loving her. She was where she needed to be.
The End.
The Master's Love
I, the Master, stand near the bed, cane in hand. You, the kajira, kneel on the bed, nude, in the position of bed submission, on your knees, legs spread, shoulders and face on the bed, arms extended above your head, wrists crossed, palms up.
I walk, with slow deliverance, to where your hands are extended over the edge of the bed. I lean and quickly wrap your wrists with a small leather thong, tying them tightly and securely. I then move around to the side of the bed where the chair is located. I sit, and look upon your supine body, I see that you are trembling, trembling in fear of the unknown.
You, in your quest to find my limits, my boundaries, my tolerances, have severely overstepped them and have found my anger instead. You have seen that fire within my eyes, that look upon my face of not just displeasure, but of complete and total anger, that I have been warning you was there, deep within.
You, thinking that maybe, Master is like other men you have known. You, thinking that he would tolerate your little moods, your little tantrums, your little schemes to manipulate him, have found that your Master has now shown his limit, and is soon to reel you back to your place.
You have tried to test him, and he, in his tolerance and care for your training and well being, has given you great latitude to see where you would take it. You have taken it too far! You now realize this, and you now realize that he, as a man, as a Master, must, and will discipline his slave.
I sitting on the chair, my anger now under complete control, look at her body, thinking of the pleasure he has had using it. Thinking of the way she moves when she is in her bliss of orgasm. Thinking of the feistiness within her mind and body. Looking at the fear that is now in her eyes. Watching her tremble, helplessly on the bed, in fear of my anger and the unknown that she will now have to face, as she is merely a slave and has no choice but to face it, as I am her Master.
I sit for a long while, letting things settle in my mind, calming myself, taking back the control over myself that my anger has usurped. My breathing becomes shallow, my hearts pace slows, my coloring returns to normal. My hand now grips the cane up tightly, but without the white knuckled grip I had a few moments ago. I, am now in control of my body again. I smile.
You, seeing the smile on my lips, think that Master is maybe not going to switch you with the cane after all. You visibly relax, the trembling even stops. You think to yourself, " I will please my Master with my sex, I will give him great pleasure and all will be forgotten". You begin to think that "Master will love me again, but, I have found a door that I will never open again". You even begin to think that you have even gotten away with something...again.
I see the look of fear leave your eyes, I see the trembling of your body stop, I see the thoughts begin to roll through your mind. Inwardly I smile as I walk around the bed behind you. I position myself where you cannot easily see what I am doing. I raise my hand wherein the cane is gripped, back and over my head. I swiftly, holding nothing back, bring the thin cane across and down, striking you across both cheeks of your seducti
ve and shapely ass.
The sound of the cane streaking though the air and the resounding smack as it strikes you, startles you a millisecond before the pain of the strike takes hold. You jump forward, burying you face into the bedding, your hands close into small fists as the pain travels upward though your luscious body. You bite down on your lip, not sure whether or not to truly believe that the pain of the single strike came from your Master. That kind and gentle spoken man who, in great care and tolerance, has been training you in the true ways of the kajira.
I leave the cane across your ass where it has landed, watching as the welt rises. I then remove it, slowly pulling it back, watching your body closely, seeing that the trembling has returned, seeing that your body is now tense in disbelief. I know the thoughts that are rolling through your mind, the astonishment, the fear, the pain. I raise the thin cane again, taking my time, watching you. I see that your body is beginning to relax again, again I swing mightily, bringing the cane down on your ass again, two inches below the first welt. I watch with great satisfaction as you jump forward again.
You, in complete disbelief, flinch at my second strike, hearing that sound, feeling that pain. You cannot believe it, the amount of pain that thin little stick is bringing to you wielded by your Masters hand. He is so cruel to be beating you like this, you think to yourself. You will not tolerate this again once this is over, you will not allow this again, he will not be allowed to do this again.
I am watching your body, knowing that you are now beginning to rebel in your mind as I, again raise the cane. I swing a third time, this one landing another two inches lower than the last strike, watching as you jump in pain, no longer startled, simply a reaction that your body gives, one that you cannot control. Again, I raise my arm slowly and swing, and yet again, each strike precisely two inches lower until after a few strikes, the next blow lands upon the line where your ass curves into your well muscled legs. That very tender spot, that most sensitive area, making you jump forward until you head is hanging off the bed now. You are biting down now on your lip hard, trying in desperation, not to cry out, fighting back the tears. He has struck you now 6 times and you are hoping, praying that it is over, or at the very least, almost over.
I see your great leap forward, I see the great tenseness in your body, I see the welts raising across your ass as I raise back for yet another, carefully aimed strike. Two inches lower than the last one, this strike falling fully across both of your legs, two inches below your now red striped ass. I hear a small squeal escape from your lips then a low moan as the pain flares through your body.
You are now losing all control of your body, you are now laying flat on the bed, driven down by your Masters very heavy strikes. The tears begin to flow from your eyes and your head, hanging from the edge of the bed is now shaking back and forth in denial of your bodies pain the feeling of the tears burning your cheeks. You can only think now of the pain that is burning across your ass and legs, you no longer think of fighting your Master. You now only wish that it be over, to be finished so that you may leave and go home to you safe, warm bed. Then Master speaks, quietly, you strain to hear his words.
I, watching your body, stop, and quietly order you back into position. I watch as you quickly raise back into the bed kneel of submission. Then, in an moment of true cruelty, I toss the cane to the floor in front of you, so that you may see it, thinking that it over. No, little one, I think to myself, it is not over, not yet. I reposition myself closer to the bed, close to your side, and I run the flat of my palm, fingers spread wide across the welts on your ass and legs, soothing them.
You feel my hand across your hot and tortured skin, somehow, your Masters touch seems to absorb some of the heat, some of the pain. You moan low as you feel his hand glide over your ass, tenderly, slowly taking the pain away. Your tears have streaked your face and you want very badly to wipe them away, but you cannot, you are bound and fear to break your position, fear that it will again, anger your Master.
I feel your body as you moan, I feel the tension begin to leave you, I feel the heat of the strikes leave your ass and legs...Suddenly, my hand rises and falls, striking the left cheek of your ass HARD, harder than my hand has ever fallen on you. In utter disbelief you leap forward, having now felt the full heaviness of Masters huge hand. You cannot believe the power behind his bare hand, as again, the hand rises and falls in the same tender spot. The heat within your skin quickly grows, turning your pained ass bright red.
I watch your ass, it now glows red as I strike your left cheek 4 times quickly, I see that your skin is marked with red stripes from the cane, and even wider red hand prints. I move my hand across to the other cheek, and I watch as your ass quakes from each strike.
Your tears are now flowing steadily, and suddenly a sob escapes your lips as you feel the true power of your Masters strength. Suddenly you realize that you are crying, tears are flowing and sobs escape your lips freely, out of control...
I strike your ass upon the right cheek and I listen to your sobs, I raise my have for one final strike, swinging with all of my might, striking your ass so hard that I again drive you down, fully laying on the bed. I stop the strikes at this and take hold of your hips, admiring the marks left by my hand on that lovely ass that has brought me great pleasure in the past. I then speak, ordering you to spread your legs fully. You do so obediently, exposing your femaleness fully to my eyes. I begin again to gently rub your hot and tortured ass, soothing the flames and the pain. I move my hand over your ass and between the beautifully red cheeks, trailing my fingers over your asshole, and onto your pussy, feeling the great amount of wetness there.
You moan loudly as Masters hand touches your intimate parts, responding to his touch, not believing the amount and strength of your arousal. You bury your face in the bedding, hot with desire, thinking of nothing but Masters cock, which you love so dearly. Then Masters hand leaves your pussy, "No, you cry out, please Master", you beg. But Master has other ideas as he turns your body over. You realize that he can now fully see your tear stained face, your rock hard nipples, your swollen red clit, you are fully exposed to him as he looks upon you.
I look into your tear filled eyes as I run my hand over your now arching body, I feel my hardness begin to grow as my desire for you grows. I look deeply into your eyes, and I ask, "does she desire her Master now?"
You shake your head in agreement vigorously, more so than you planned. You see him smile that crooked smile of his and you glance down at his lap, seeing the growing lump underneath his pants. The desire overwhelms you as you see his hardness, wanting it, wanting to see it, to touch it, to taste it, to feel it within you. Then, your Master stands, looking down upon you, laying there in great lust, exposed, naked, willing, ready for him as you have never been ready for any man before. Here is a true Master of this slave, here, you think to yourself, is MY Master. Then he speaks...
What, little one, have you learned?
James at the Office
We had a date. Two straight days of fucking then go on a date. I always do things backwards but this was... a pleasurable thing. I took a taxi to his office because I'm just not that familiar with the city. It was an impressive building, lot of stories to it. I went inside and told the front desk guy that I was here to meet a Mr. Bellacroix. All he did was stare at my chest and point to the elevators. I was wearing a short-sleeved red t-shirt that said "dirty bitch" and it was slit from the throat all the way down to "bitch." I rode up with another woman in the elevator. I ached all over from the constant sex. My butt was especially sore. I still could not believe he had taken my ass like he did. And damn, I loved it, too. I looked over to find the woman staring at me. She blushed and left as soon as the doors opened to the floor I needed.
Defiled Seduce Night Page 132