Answering in the affirmative, I hoisted my left side, then my right, up on the bed, traversing over the blocks. My skin scraped the evil little divots and crevices of the blocks, and I muttered intelligible curses to whoever had made the retched things.
“What’s that?” he asked, amusement ringing in his voice.
“Nothing, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“All right. Now I want you to pinch those nipples, and keep fucking that hole. Do you hear me?” he snarled.
“Yes, sir.” A rush of blood charged to my vulva. Often the meaner he came across, the more aroused I became.
“Pull on your nipples, twist them, but pull them hard. Pull them away from your body, up to your chin as far as they can go. I want you to tug on them until you scream.”
I did as he said, pulling, twisting, and yanking them until I screeched in pain.
“Good. Again.”
Tugging them hard, I repeated the task until I hollered out again, and my body was covered with a light sheen in response to the exertion and pain. He commanded me to do it five times in total, and by the time I was finished I was panting.
“Tuck those fingers down underneath you, and I want you to diddle your clit until you come.”
“But the blocks…” The retched things jabbed against my forearm, distracting me from the task at hand.
“Do it!” he growled, and I knew he wanted me to fight through the discomfort and come for him.
“Yes, Sir,” I groused, but I meandered my fingers between my legs and rubbed hard circles across my little nub at the same time that I flipped my feet up hard, which thrust the cock deep into my vagina.
“I want to hear you when you come. I want you to tell me how greedy you are.”
“Yes, sir. I’m a greedy girl, and I need my cunt to come.” He’d drummed those words into my head so many times they came as readily as reciting the pledge of allegiance.
The tremors of my climax started in my thigh muscles. My legs began to tremble and my climax was building. “Oh yes, I’m going to come, sir! May I, please?”
“Do it.” His voice had taken on the hoarse quality that I associated with his orgasm, but surely he wasn’t about to come. He only did that at the end of our session. He’d usually take me through several orgasms during a session, but I’d only known him to come at the end, and I hoped we weren’t done for the night. I still wanted to try the candles.
A few more flicks of my fingers and I forgot, at least for the moment, everything except the spasms that wracked my body. “Oh, I’m coming. Thank you, sir.”
“God, I love to hear you come for me.”
“Yeesss,” I moaned in response.
“Keep playing with that little clit. Stroke it, make that cunt come again, longer.”
I did, and my orgasm seemed to go on and on. Wave after wave of bliss rippled over me, my body suspended in a dream world I never wanted to wake from. But eventually I came back down to earth and he said, “Move the blocks. Can you do that with the cock still embedded inside you?”
“Yes, they’re still in the cardboard box they came in, just without the top. I can slide them to the side.”
“Good. Do that and I want you to tape that candle to the back of the chair. Is the chair sitting next to your bed?”
“Yes. Just a minute.” As spent as I’d been a moment earlier, the possibility of finally exploring the wax gave me a fresh burst of energy. He explained how to position my body—lying on my back, cock still buried in my cunt. He wanted me to bind myself with the jump ropes that were tied to the posts on either side of my headboard.
He requested I light one of the candles then wrap the jump ropes around each wrist so that I was bound, his hapless prisoner. Symbolically, if not in actuality.
“I want you to fuck that cunt of yours, and don’t stop until I tell you. When those drops of wax start falling, you have permission to squirm, but keep those ropes wrapped around your wrists.”
The first drop of molten wax dripped on my abdomen just below my breast. “Oh!” Crap, that sucker hurt! I’d expected it to be hot, but not that hot.
Another drop fell near the first. “Ouch!” I shrieked.
“Where did it land?” he asked, and I recognized his desire to get a visual of the entire scene.
“My stomach.”
“Move around. Let it hit you in different places. Play with it.”
“Okay.” Afraid to let it hit my breast, I wriggled up slightly so the next drop hit my mound. It hurt. It hurt like a motherfucker. I let some fall on my arm. That was a slight improvement. After some gymnastic moves, I realized the pain was less intense when it fell on places where my skin was usually exposed to the world—like my arms and legs. And to my surprise it began to actually feel pretty good, especially when it landed on my breasts and nipples. But when I moved and it dripped on my ribs, it really seared.
For the rest of the session, MC told me what to do, instructing me where to let the wax dribble. It was intoxicating, the control he had over me. Without him, I wouldn’t have done any of this. I wouldn’t be sitting in my bedroom dripping scalding candle wax on myself. I loved him making me do these things, and feeling helpless. It was why I loved bondage. I’d found someone I trusted enough to allow him to control me and my sexuality. It was an amazing thing.
Of course, in the back of my mind, I knew this arrangement was rather odd. I didn’t really know MC. What did I really know about him? And there were many things I might not be able to trust him about. But so far, under these limited circumstances, he’d shown himself to be worthy of my trust from a D/s perspective. For me that was rare, and I trusted him more than I ever trusted Spencer.
The wax continued to drip onto my skin, each drop heightening my arousal.
“Now I want you to imagine you’re taking my cock in your mouth.”
“Mmm.”
“Fuck that cunt with that cock. And open your mouth for another one. You can’t get enough cock, can you?”
“No, sir.” My arms were stretched above me, and I closed my eyes, thinking what it would be like to be filled in two holes, my mouth and my cunt, being fucked while hot wax ignited my senses. That fantasy pushed me over the edge.
“Come for me. I want you to come for me hard.”
I complied, my skin stinging from the molten torture, and I gasped as the pleasure-spiked pain wracked my body with the exquisite shivers as I climaxed. My drenched channel tightened around the toy inside me, and as the spasms ebbed, I drifted into an adrenaline-laced rapture.
When I heard the catch in his voice that told me that, he too, on the other end of our connection had found release, unadulterated happiness permeated my consciousness. I pictured his cock erupting, ejecting white liquid ropes of cum, and wished I could be with him to lap it up.
Afterward, we fell into our usual pattern of rehashing the evening’s events—the cyber equivalent of smoking a cigarette post-coitus. I loved how he talked to me during those times. At the beginning of our sessions he was mean and harsh. But by the end, after I jumped through all his hoops like a good circus pup, he was usually quite engaging. Sometimes even nice.
I blew out the candle with one big whiff, uncurled the ropes from my wrists, and ripped the tape off my ankles. It took a few moments to remove all the tape and untangle myself from all the accoutrements my online Dom had me use during tonight’s extended session. When I was done, I reached for a super-soft wine-colored throw and burrowed underneath it, tucking my knees to my chest and hugging myself while my heart rate slowly returned to normal.
“How am I going to get all this wax off my skin?” I asked him.
“Ah, it is a rather messy endeavor. Sorry about that. Probably one of the reasons we won’t be doing it for every session. But it should peel right off.”
“All right.” I had gobs of wax still attached to my body but I’d clean it up later, after our debriefing. In some ways, our talks at the end were the best part.
“So what did you
think?”
“Other than it being messy, I really liked it. It was a nice long session, and I like that you pushed me past where I would have normally gone.”
“I love the way you fucking danced for me. My cock was raging hard, listening to your anguish.”
I sat up. He wasn’t usually this forthcoming about his own desire. “Really?”
“Yes, raging hard, fucking chiseled. So hard my thick vein was popping out and throbbing in my grip. Hot wax can be agonizing at times, but it can also be extremely pleasurable if you’re getting fucked hard at the same time. I’d love to take you from behind, drip that wax on your back, your ass, and feel you force that cunt against me.”
“That sounds heavenly. I feel like I’m doing better about coming when you tell me to.”
“Is it easier for you to let go?”
“Yes. I think part of that is how you pushed me. It felt like we went further than before, and since I can tell that you push me just the right amount, and not too far, I trust you more, which makes it easier to relax and let you guide me.”
“Good. You need that guidance and instruction, and of course, the right tasks and challenges designed specifically to make you come hard and long, multiple times.”
“Thank you, sir. Remember how you said that after a while you would begin to haunt me? I’m afraid that’s starting to happen.” I was almost bashful admitting this, but he’d told me honesty was essential to my training, so I wanted him to know the effect he had on me.
“That is a positive. Training like this tends to sneak up on you during the day. A smell, a touch, a mark, or a bruise—they can all serve as reminders of me and your training. Some subs coat their scrapes with their juices and lick them off like little kittens.”
The mental image this conjured up for me was strange yet oddly arousing.
“I am happy with how you are progressing in your training. Communication, trust, and honesty are the keys and those keep building. Stick with it and I will take you places you’ve never even dreamed of going. Stay wet for me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
One Friday I woke up to this message in my inbox:
Hungry for the next task? You are my fucking toy to play with today, aren’t you?
You will go to the farthest room away from your bedroom as you can. Before you start you will need the two skipping ropes tied to the headboard. I want you completely undressed, and once in the other room you will tape your ankles tightly together. Now cock in that cunt and vibe on your clit. You will tape your thighs together just above the knees and also just below your hips. Now, taped and tortured, you will hobble into the bedroom where your pleasure awaits you.
Up on the bed, lie back, li’l bitch, and get comfortable. You have one chance to position that cock wherever you like and set the desired speed and pattern settings on that vibe. Then take the handles of the skipping rope in your hands and start winding them down around your wrists. Make those fucking arms stretch and fucking strain.
Do you understand?
You will not move from that position for thirty minutes, and you can do as you wish with your cunt to make it come. I know you’re a greedy little whore and you’ll do everything in your power to gain that sweet release. Come at will and as often as you can, but if you don’t succeed after the thirty minutes the session is over and there will be no coming. Understood? Agreed?
After your session the tape will remain in place. Slip on your wristbands and clip on the attached clothespins, then type a two-hundred word report for me with your reactions to this task.
This is what you wanted, this is what you needed, this is what you’re getting.
Be good for Sir.
MC
I was excited to try it, but once I did, everything seemed to go wrong. Afterward, I told MC about it:
Sir,
It was very difficult to walk with the tape on my ankles and legs. These clothespins hurt by the way! Um, I walked on my toes to my bedroom and it helped. It felt kinda sexy to be bound that way, but once I got to the bedroom, I had trouble getting my vibe situated to do anything of interest with my legs taped that close together. I put it on a setting I thought would work, and I wrapped my hands up in the skipping ropes.
For the first five minutes I enjoyed it. I kinda tried to fuck the vibe and tried to feel the vibration on my clit (though that was difficult because my legs were squished together too much). I writhed around on the bed trying to fuck myself tied down all naked, and that was hot. I felt like such a little slut, a total wanton whore.
But after a while I realized there was no way I was gonna be able to cum like that so I got bored. Totally bored. I took my rope off one hand to see if changing the setting would help, but it didn’t (I know I wasn’t supposed to do that. I know, I know. I was very bad). But it just wasn’t working. It was only annoying me so I quit. So what started out as a sexy task turned bad with me being a disobedient girl. I’m sorry I was naughty on this task, sir. You know that’s not like me.
~Sophie
I chewed on a fingernail, certain that my disobedience would earn me a punishment session. So I was surprised when he messaged me back, saying:
Sophie,
I actually don’t mind that you failed this one, and you were truthful about it. These are the types of situations that need to be discussed. If I thought you were enjoying the tasks, but you weren’t and didn’t tell me, I would keep giving you more of the same type and we’d be traveling down a very slippery slope into total boredom and frustration.
I wish everything I designed and sent would work as I see it in my mind’s eye, but each individual is different and failure does push my imagination as well.
All tasks cannot be perfect and we are at some disadvantage using cyber. However, you will still become a delicious little sub-slut and we’ll find new things that can send you through the roof.
Now that you have completed that task you will take a pair of your panties and stuff them deep up inside that soaking wet fuckhole that belongs to me. You will wear them in that fuckhole for the rest of the evening right up until it’s time to play later tonight.
Check your messages here for updates on when I can come out to abuse you.
Be good for Sir.
MC
Since he responded so quickly I deduced he must be online so I opened our chat window and typed:
Sophie: Yes, sir. I will take my pink and white striped ones that I had on earlier and shove them deep inside of me. They are so sexy and will feel good inside Sir’s fuckhole. It’s so wet and swollen, aching for you. Wanting, wanting, wanting…
MC: Good girl. You need that cunt filled. Play with those panties inside that sweet hole. Grip them, suck them, clench them, soak them with your fuck juice. Make that cunt need, make it pulse inside, make those panties drink up all your juices.
I inserted the panties and moved on with my day, which involved a lot of chores around the house and a trip to the store. During all that I had to walk a lot, so I really felt those panties lodge in my cooch. They filled me completely, and I was aware of them every second. My muscles squeezed at them so tightly.
Once I got home I went to the bathroom, but when I stood up, I realized that part of the panties must have fallen down into the toilet water. Eww! I had to remove the rest from my vagina. Now they were partly soaked with toilet water and partly soaked with pussy juice.
I would be talking to MC later that night, but I wanted to connect with him anyway and tell him how things were going.
Sophie: I was wearing those panties inside me for hours, and when I pulled them out I was so surprised that they were sopping wet! Completely soaked. I’m liking this task.
To which he immediately responded:
MC: Get those cum-soaked panties back in that greedy fuckhole now. You were never given permission to take them out, were you? You will pay this time for your lack of compliance.
Holy crap.
Sophie: No! You don’t understand! Part
of them dropped out into the toilet when I went to go pee. I had to take them out. They were soaking wet with pee and toilet water. YUCK! Surely you understand I had to pull the rest of the panties out! I couldn’t put that toilet stuff back in my vag for sanitary reasons. Plus I just got a new pair and put them in my cunt. I still have that pair in right now. Promise!
After he didn’t respond for ten minutes, I continued digging my grave.
Sophie: It’s kinda a funny story. I giggled when it happened. But I know how you like to punish me so I understand if you must…
MC: Do you think it’s funny to disobey?
Our play that night was divine. He started it with a serious punishment session for my cunt with lots of hard fucking, and I was raw and aching from it. My breasts were sore and marked with red stripes from the tape I’d ripped from them. My muscles ached in my arms and legs as well from the exertion I’d put forth as he put me through my paces.
Sophie,
It pleases me tremendously that you have these aches and pains. The marks always serve as a reminder of past play and can conjure up some lustful memories.
So many more aches and pains to deliver. So many more marks to leave behind. You are shaping into a beautiful plaything and will continue to grow. The more we play, the more understanding we gain, the deeper the training sinks in. That delivers results.
Stay a good girl.
MC
But the longer we played online, the more frustrated I became. My brain knew I was getting exactly what I signed up for, but my body and my heart had begun to want more, and the two sides were growing further and further apart each day. I debated whether or not to talk with MC about it. On one hand I didn’t want to rock the boat and upset him, but on the other I was becoming increasingly unhappy with the status quo.
In many ways I was lonely. I’d even begun to consider asking Shelby or Jackie to set me up on a real live date with someone local, even though that wasn’t really what I wanted. I wanted more from MC. Finally one day, I gave in to my emotions and emailed him about it.
Her Web Master Page 12
