by May, Linnea
“Head down,” he snaps. I bow down, burying my head on the silky sheet. The leash is fastened short, just long enough for me to rest my head on the mattress without getting choked.
“Stick your ass up,” he says.
I arch my back and follow his command.
“More!” He snaps, pinching the inside of my left thigh. “And spread your legs. I want to see that plug – and your clit, beautiful.”
I try my best to please him, arching my back as far as possible and spreading my legs as good as I can, presenting my stuffed ass and my dripping center.
“Good girl,” he comments. “You are so beautiful. So slick and wet for your master. I don’t even have to touch you to know it. You are glistening with wetness, you kinky little slut.”
Something is touching me between the legs, but it is not his hand. He is draping the little leather strap along my wetness. I flinch as he lets it slide along my center, tickling and teasing my clit. Anticipation and arousal team up to a toxic mix, making me shiver in fright and lust. I know what is coming and I crave it and fear it at the same time.
What I did not anticipate is the different angle he put me in. I am bent lower, exposing my clit a lot more than I did before. The first blow strikes me the fiery pain, causing me to shriek.
“That’s right,” he hisses, going for another blow. I gasp as the leather cuts into my center. He is aiming for my folds – and the pain is so different, so much stronger than it was on my butt. Two more blows follow close to each other, making me gasp for air. But I don’t scream. I don’t cry. Not yet. He gives me a break, sort of. The next few blows are a bit lighter, following close to each other, and aiming for my sore butt cheeks instead of my overly sensitive center.
I can hear him breathing behind me. He needs it. He needs release. And I can give it to him by letting me break me. The thought of this is oddly pleasing. Yet, he is holding back. I arch my back a little more, sticking my butt out as far as possible.
“Please,” I whisper. “More.”
“You want more?” He breathes. “More, you little whore?”
“Yes, Sir. Please.”
A blow, sharp as a lightning bolt cuts into my flesh. I yelp and flinch.
“More!” I scream.
And he hears me, unleashing all the fury that has built up during the day. The leather strap comes down on my skin in loud cries of pain, torturing my skin like he never has before. Tears start running down my face, my wet hair sticking to my blushed cheeks as I raise my head during one especially intense blow. There is a last one, tormenting my sensitive clit before he throws the strap away and moves closer, forcing his rock hard member inside me with one deep push.
He fucks me like a brute, merciless. Taking what he needs and what only I can give him. His pelvis his pushing against my tortured skin with every thrust, reminding me of the pain I endured. And he feels huge, his girth even more impressive than usual, due to the plug stretching my ass and tightening my insides in the process. I have never been this full, in an ongoing state of arousal that feels so close to climax. It is driving me out of my mind.
And then he pauses. He grabs the plug and gently circles it inside me.
“Oh, not again, baby girl,” he whispers as he slowly removes the plug from my ass, accompanied by me moaning helplessly. “You are not robbing me of my plan again. I said I will have your ass tonight, and so I will.”
“Yes, Sir,” I breathe, incapable of saying anything else. I can feel the tip of his cock pressing against my ass. He teases me with it, drawing little circles and massaging my anus.
“Ask for it.” He orders. “Beg.”
I sigh – and receive a slap on my tortured ass.
“Beg!” He snaps.
“Please, Sir,” I humbly whisper. “Please fuck my ass.”
“What? I can’t hear you,” he insists. “Louder!”
“Please, Sir,” I repeat, trying to raise my voice. “Please fuck my ass. I want you to, I need you to!”
“Good girl,” he comments as he forces himself inside me without hesitating. I groan in pain and lust. It hurt, it hurt a lot more than his fingers or the plug. He is a lot bigger, stretching my twice as much with his hard girth. He moves slowly, but without taking a break, giving me hardly any time to get accustomed to his size.
“Sto-”
“No!” He interrupts, forcing himself in deeper. “You want this, baby girl. And you’ll get it.”
He fills me with his entire length and I yelp and pant, feeling my insides jump with lust. What a confused body, to get off on such pain. What is wrong with me.
He starts to move back and forth in very slow and careful motions. And with every thrust, the pain subsides and is replaced by sheer pleasure. God, it feels good. Intense, strong – still with a taste of pain, but nowhere near as painful as it was in the beginning.
I can feel his hands on my sore skin. He gently stretches my cheeks apart as he continues to fuck me with deep and strong pushes.
“Touch yourself,” he orders. “I want you to come while I fill your tight little ass.”
I reach back beneath my legs and carefully touch my clit. As I expected, even my own touch feels like an explosion of sensation. I am so insanely aroused. My orgasm is rolling closer with every push he forces on me.
“I can’t… for long,” I pant helplessly.
“You don’t have to – come!” He yells at me.
The first waves of my orgasm roll over me as soon as he finishes his command. I come, shaken by brutal spasms and crying out loud as my tormented body finds it release. And he follows closely behind me, filling my ass as my muscles clench around him. I rise up, tilting my head back while cries of pleasure escape my mouth - and fall back down, collapsing in dizzy state of fulfillment. It is a long and intense orgasm for both of us, and I relish the feeling of such an intense climax with him inside me, stretching me with his considerable size.
He withdraws as soon as my orgasm has died down, quickly untying the leash from the bar at the head of the bed.
“Turn around,” he whispers, his voice now soft and caring.
I obey and quickly fall on my back, grimacing as my tortured skin hits the sheet and weeps in numb but fiery pain. He smiles and lies down next to me, pulling me in his arms and whispering:
“You are the best.”
Four
I have no idea where I am when I wake up. Sleepily squinting, I try to make sense of my surroundings. Dark sheets, all in black. I am buried deep inside of them, unable to see anything except the white ceiling above me. Slowly, as my mind joins my body in waking up, I am able to recollect my memories.
I am in his bedroom. The real one. The one he sleeps in and has never taken me to, except for showing it to me once when he gave me a quick tour of his apartment.
I sit up and look around. I am alone. But the sheets next to me are ruffled. And it is morning. A big smile appears on my face. The expression of a silly, happy little girl who finally got the toy she wanted. This might be an exception. He might give me a lecture on how this would never happen again and it was just because it had gotten too late – though that has never stopped him before. He has sent me home at two in the morning before.
We had taken a bath after our play – and a drink. And I remember curling up in his arm, wrapped in his ridiculously comfortable bath robe. Relaxed, satisfied and warm. And instead of telling me to get dressed and asking Frank to drive me home, he had eventually picked me up as I was dozing off on the couch, and carried me to his bed. I was half asleep when it happened and considered it a dream. And here I am.
Another realization hits me. I am completely naked. But I find a robe next to the bed on my side. It’s a fresh one, but the same kind as the ones we wearing the night before. I step out of bed and put it on. The alarm clock on the table next to the bed tells me that it is shortly after nine. Still ample of time till my first and only class for today. I look around in hopes of finding my stuff, my clothes and my phone,
but most of it is probably in the living room.
Luckily, there is another bathroom connected to his bedroom. I use it and check myself in the mirror, quickly washing my face – that still bears the remains of last night’s make-up – and combing my hair in an attempt to not look completely trashed when I face him.
I take a deep breath before I make my way to the living room, where I expect to find him. The room is empty, but I hear him rummaging in the kitchen.
“Good morning,” I timidly whisper as I enter the room.
He is wearing a bath robe himself and in the middle of pouring freshly brewed coffee into a – naturally – black cup, glancing at me in surprise. His hair is ruffled and he is unshaven. I have never seen him like that and cannot hide a sheepish smile. He looks so different, innocent almost.
“Did I wake you?” He asks.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
He is somewhat distant, avoiding eye contact, just giving evidence that my theory could be right.
“Sit,” he says, pointing to one of the bar stools at the counter. He places the cup of coffee in front of me, gesturing to a tiny carafe with milk.
“If you want sugar, there’s-”
“No, I’m good.” I interrupt him.
He silently nods and sits down on the stool next to me, adding milk to his coffee.
“Listen,” I start. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to bother you. I’ll be out soon – and it won’t happen again.”
He looks at me, puzzled. “What won’t happen again?”
Now I am the one looking at him in confusion. Why is he acting as if this is normal? After making such a big deal of not having me stay overnight for months.
“I mean,” I stutter. “Me staying over… I know it’s not part of the deal.”
“Ah.” He nods. He sips at his coffee, again avoiding eye contact.
“We might have to talk about that,” he says eventually.
“No,” I argue. “It’s okay. Like I said, it won’t happen again.”
Finally, he looks at me. How can he look so handsome after just getting up? It’s insane how gorgeous this man is.
“What if I want you to?” He asks, fixating me with his green eyes.
“What? What do you mean?”
“What if I wouldn’t mind you staying overnight?” He clarifies.
I take a deep breath in surprise. “Is that… I mean, is that something you would be interested in?”
He smiles. “I like you, baby doll. More than I care to admit.”
I blush and hold on to my coffee as if it was a safety net, staring into the brown liquid, searching for the right thing to say.
“I would like to see what it is like to spend more time with you,” he adds. “Doing more than playing and having drinks. I think I might enjoy that. With you.”
“Oh.” I say. Dumbfounded, I take my coffee as an excuse for not replying, taking a bunch of sips, practically hiding my face in the cup.
“You don’t have to,” he says, sounding completely nonchalant. “It doesn’t change much, anyways. For now.”
“I’d love to,” I say. “I mean. I’d love to spend more nights with you - and I wouldn’t mind if things changed. Somewhat.”
He smirks at me. “Somewhat, huh? Don’t get too greedy, little one.”
I mirror his expression. “No, Sir. I won’t.”
“When does your class start?” He asks, changing the subject suspiciously soon.
“At noon.”
“Do you want Frank to drive you to campus or home first?”
“Home first would be good,” I say. “I’d like to change and get a few things.”
This is when it hits me. Liz! She must be worried. I don’t think I messaged her to tell her that I am spending the night.
“Excuse me for a second,” I mumble and hurry out of the kitchen to the living room. My handbag is still where I left it, on the floor next to the sofa. I had put my phone back inside after Nathan came home - and haven’t looked at it since.
And sure enough, it is flooded with unanswered messages and a call from Liz. Luckily, she is not as worried as I feared she might be. She knows that I was heading to see that special someone she doesn’t know anything about, that ominous boyfriend who is not really a boyfriend per se.
“Spending the night, huh?,” she assumes in her last message. “Let me know you’re alive!”
And so I do, typing a quick message so she can rest assured. I stroll back to the kitchen, taking my phone with me to check my mails, expecting nothing of importance. But it turns out, there is. A mail from the University.
“Holy shit,” I whisper as I get back to the kitchen where Nathan is still drinking his coffee while reading something on his iPad.
“What is it?” He asks, looking up. “Everything okay?”
My eyes are still glued to my phone. I am reading the e-mail again and again, making sure that I am not dreaming, that this is not a mistake, a misunderstanding. But no, it really says…
“I got the scholarship.”
Five
It has been a week since Nathan is no longer my patron, but solely my Dom. My Master. My partner, even.
There was a moment where I actually feared he might get mad, because in a way, he is losing a part of the control he had over me. But instead, he is genuinely happy for me. He smiled when I showed him the e-mail and took me in for a passionate embrace.
“You’re not… mad?” I asked, even though I realized that it must have been a dumb question.
He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Little girl, I am proud of you and happy for you. And I will still spoil the hell out of you - especially now.”
He gave me a kiss on the forehead. “You did good. We need to celebrate.”
He had to leave that evening and I haven’t seen him since. Today, exactly a week after that life changing day, we are to celebrate. With a special surprise, he promised.
He is already home, waiting for me with a glass of expensive champagne as I walk out of the elevator and into his glorious apartment that has become a second home to me by now.
“Cheers,” he softly whispers as we cling glasses. “To my precious little baby girl, the achiever.”
I beam at him. “Thank you, Sir.”
Being called an achiever by a man like him seems out of proportion, to say the least. I feel incredibly flattered.
“You know I can only reward you, if you are naked,” he adds as I sip on the divine champagne. “I want you to go to our play room and wait for me. You know how.”
“Yes, Sir.” I nod. I put my glass away and make my way to the bedroom. Completely naked and on my knees, palms resting on my thighs, I wait for him to enter the room.
He doesn’t make me wait long. I keep my head lowered as he enters, whispering “Good girl” in his sexy Dom voice.
He places himself in front of me, reaching his left hand out to me.
“Get up.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He helps me back on my feet and greets me with a kiss, soft and sweet, almost shy compared to other times. Today, his tongue craves mine like a lover, not only like an owner.
“Remember what you said on the day we met?” He asks in a low voice as our kiss finishes.
I look at him with complete lack of understanding. “No, Sir?”
“Do you remember the pictures?”
My eyes widen. “Yes, Sir. I do!”
“What did you tell me you wanted me to do to you?” He asks, gently brushing a strand of hair out of my face.
I blush, realizing where he is going with this.
“You wanted me to tie you up,” he whispers. “Like the women in my pictures.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t you think today would be a good occasion for that?” He asks. “Tying you up. Reminding you, that you are still mine, even though you are an independent woman now?”
I nod. “I w
ould love that, Sir.”
He takes a step back and I realize that he is already holding the rope in his hands. Black, of course.
“I will start with something easy,” he says. “A karada.”
He drapes the rope around the back of my neck, the ends of it falling down at the front of my body. I stand calm, but my heart jumps with anticipation as the rope touches my skin. He takes the ends with both of his hands and brings them around one another three times, creating three twists before he brings the two ends of the rope down, between my legs.
A faint moan escapes my mouth as he reaches down, bringing the two ends up and apart on my back side, confining my folds between the two ends. He holds the rope up and moves behind me, bringing the ends up between my ass and parting them to wrap them around my hips, moving back to the front so he can bring them through the lowest twist on my belly. He softly pulls the rope, opening the twist so it forms a diamond shape on my front. Even though his pull is not very tight, I can feel it between my legs. The confining touch of the rope is titillating, making my insides dance with anticipation.
He continues the process, bringing the ends of the rope to the back, crossing them above my spine and bringing them back to the front, once again passing them through the twists. He repeats this three times, creating three diamonds at my front. Eventually, he finishes the topmost twist and tells me to lift my arms, so he can bring the ends of the rope back around beneath my arms.
The rope has tightened around my torso, confining me, but not in an unpleasant way. I can feel my body’s heat caused by excitement and anticipation.
He finishes my harness by bringing the rope around to the front of my body, through the topmost twist, then back around behind me. From there, he brings the ends up underneath the rope where it passes around my neck, and down beneath the rope wrapping around my back.
“Done for now,” he whispers, examining his work as he stands in front of me. “You look exquisite, just as I imagined.”
He comes closer and softly caresses the rope around my neck, running down alongside the front of my trembling body. I can feel his touch running through the entire harness, feeling a slight tickle on every part of my skin that is in contact with it. Especially between my legs.
