by B. B. Roman
"We'll talk about that a little later. I fear I may have opened up a bit too much for now. There is fun to be had. Finish your coffee and let's get a move on it." He took me by the arm and led me back into the house, treating me like the billionaire's wife at a fancy gala. Yet another simple gesture that resonated in me so much. I kind of liked being on his arm, allowing him to take me wherever he pleased.
We walked around the outside of the house—why he didn't just have an elevator to the basement was still beyond me—and traversed down those winding flights of stairs, one by one until we got to the bottom. The journey was a lot easier for me than yesterday, mostly because of the fact that I was nearly certain that he wasn't just leading me down there to kill me. That had been quite the shock yesterday; most gals my age just don't get led into dungeons for good reasons.
He shut and locked the door again, flipping the right switches and sending illumination all across the room. I squinted at first from the brightness. He headed over toward the area where that cross was.
"Alright, Marisa. We're going to go even further today. Front or back?"
"Huh?" I said. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"The St. Andrews Cross can be used with you facing either way. We're going to do both, so make your decision for now. Which would you like to start with?"
"Uh, f-f-f-front," I said, suddenly feeling intimated again.
"Alright, sensible choice," he said. "We're going to play with sensory deprivation. The scene begins now."
By the time he said now, he wrapped a blindfold around my eyes, surprising me at first. He tied it tightly in the back, ensuring that it wouldn't fall off my head. The material was soft, but was obviously thick enough that I couldn't see through it at all. One minute ago, I was squinting from the light—now I was blinded by darkness. Even though I could have used my hands to take it off, I left it on and didn't fight him.
"Alright, my pet. From now on, I am Sir. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir," I said, familiar with my role in the scene. I liked that he had called it that. We were just actors, playing out a scene together. Comfortable, easy.
He led me to the cross and pushed my back against it, his hands immediately dropping my skirt. He pulled up my blouse and removed it, leaving nothing but my bra and panties between me and full nakedness. I felt him lift my arms into the air and secure them to straps on the cross. He then kissed my stomach gently, his breath tickling the tiny hairs there. I shivered as I felt his breath move lower and lower across my front until he got to the elastic waistband on my underwear.
My panties were removed with his teeth; I could feel the trail of saliva from his tongue as he dragged them against my body, allowing me to keep track of everywhere that he'd been. In the blackness, I could see the lines glowing against my body, his trajectory perfectly outlined. I couldn't believe how hypersensitive this sensory deprivation thing made me. My heartbeat started to increase, throbbing in my chest as I tried to anticipate his next move.
Roland took my feet, one-by-one, and secured them to the cross, leaving me pressed up against it. It was made of metal, but there was a soft material covering it where my body made contact. I kept my head against the wall, imagining that I was lying down in my upright position. His calloused fingers traced along my back until he reached the clasp of my bra and undid it. My breasts tumbled ever so slightly down to my chest, resting there after losing all support. I immediately felt his lips wrap around my nipple, sucking it and rolling it between his teeth until it pebbled.
"Much better, my pet," Roland said. "I'll be right back."
His footsteps trailed off until I couldn't hear him anymore. I was suddenly very alone and very naked. I had been fully exposed for a few minutes now, but I guess I was starting to get used to it. I hadn't felt so vulnerable when he had removed my clothes and tied me up, even though I was more vulnerable than I'd ever been in my life. I mean, shit, he could just leave me here if he wanted and there would be nothing I could do about it, right? Real good, Marisa. Freak yourself out for no good reason. I would have kept on panicking, but I immediately heard Roland's steps coming near me again.
"My, don't you just look so beautiful, my pet. Such ample, soft skin. Creamy and luscious. He kissed my lips, hard enough that it sent a considerable jolt to my crotch. Just hearing his voice was enough to make me wet at this point.
Goose bumps suddenly shot across my body as I felt something cold—ice cold, actually—begin tracing along my skin. "Sir!" I gasped, surprised by the sudden icy chill against my skin. My body pressed hard into the cross, almost like he was running into me with a bowling ball.
"Shh, pet. It feels really nice if you give it a chance." He traced the ice cube from my belly up to the nipple that he had neglected with his tongue, leaving a trail of moisture not unlike the one he had left earlier with his saliva. The sensitive nub of flesh hardened immediately as it succumbed to the temperature drop, the chill confusing my senses and making me even wetter. It continued to get colder and colder, so cold that I felt like I'd lose my nipple to frostbite. But he was aware, promptly pulling it away as I began to cringe.
"Good job," he said. His finger lightly brushed my clit; my legs would have locked closed on his hand had they not been tied down. He immediately stopped, leaving me with such a tiny taste. "There's going to be some pain here, pet. I assure you, you'll make it through—and you'll be very happy about your decision to persevere."
My mind filled with thoughts of terror and intrigue. While he had already surprised me with the ice cube, that didn't necessarily hurt. I was feeling everything like it was through an amplifier, a larger-than-life representation of my sense of touch. I was worried that pain would tear my body to pieces. "Sir," I begged.
I heard some metal jingling about and then felt something clamp onto my nipple, like a pair of steel teeth taking a bite. Pain shot through my body, my muscles tensing, my head ramming into the cross hard. "Oh god, Sir, please!" I moaned, both in confusion and pain, my body overwhelmed and overpowered by this new sensation.
"Quiet down!" he shouted. "You can handle this, pet. In a moment you'll be wondering why you ever complained at all."
And with that, he put the clamp on my other nipple. "Ow! Oh shit," I cried out. The pain was now coming from two places, my brain begging my hands to spare my nipples from their predicament. I fought the straps on my hands and feet to no avail. I was stuck, a slave to the pain. It stung inside of me, my chest heaving as I realized how helpless I was. How was I ever going to enjoy this? It was like getting teeth pulled.
Then I felt it: his tongue. It danced along my clit, circling and spiraling, aggressive and friendly. It was a much-needed diversion from the stinging on my chest, sending a wonderful tingle all through my body. My hips immediately tilted into him, forcing his stubble against the insides of my thighs as my body begged him for more attention. His fingers parted my moist folds, easing into me, my body swallowing his fingers as he pressed against my g-spot.
"Oh god," I whined. The pain from the clamps was actually making his licking and fingering all the more intense, all the more real. Tension swelled in my lower belly, the pain and pleasure snowballing into an incredible want. God, I wanted his cock inside of me, wanted him to fuck me as hard as he could, wanted him to hold back nothing. I couldn't even feel the pain anymore; it had just blended in with the throb of my swollen clit.
He continued the motions of his tongue, increasing the pace, making it all become seamless, constant. His fingers fucked into me harder and harder until I came, my breath pouring out rapidly. I didn't even feel it coming. The climax burst out of me, flushing my cheeks with warmth, curling my toes against the mat on the floor. My muscles shuddered against his fingers as my walls tightened and relaxed multiple times, clenching with each peak of my orgasm.
Roland eased his fingers out of me and promptly removed the clamps, dropping them to the floor with a loud clank. I took a huge, deep breath, suddenly neutral again. Roland pressed my
breasts together, squeezing them into cleavage and running his tongue through it. "See, they're all right, pet. I told you that you'd be okay. Mmm, I love these breasts. I just can't say it enough. I'll never be satisfied." He pulled away, leaving me there alone.
"Yes, Sir," I said. "You were right."
"I also know that I'm right about you being a dirty little whore that wants to suck my cock." I heard his footsteps as he moved around the floor. "I'm going to set you free and you're going to do it. Then I'm going to tie you up the other way. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir," I stammered. My mind knew I could handle it, but my heart wasn't so sure. He loosened the restraints until my hands freed themselves and did the same for my feet. My hands instinctively shot to the blindfold—until he grabbed me with some force, pulling my arms behind my back and handcuffing them together. Fighting wasn't even worth it.
"Now come over here, pet." He gripped my shoulders and pulled me to him, lowering me to my knees, helping me maintain my balance with my hands behind my back. He pressed the tip of his cock ever so gently against my lips, just informing them that it was there. His muskiness was so overwhelmingly manly as it filled my nostrils, reminding me of his power—as well as his sensitivity to my needs.
I reached my tongue forward, caressing the head as I brought it into the wetness of my mouth. Pre-cum had beaded on the tip; my tongue immediately tasted the salty droplet and I swallowed it down, consuming a part of him. I began to bob my head back and forth, encouraged by his groans of pleasure, wrapping my lips tightly around him. I was feeling more confident than I had last time, and frankly, I was enjoying the act much more this time, imagining in my mind that I was somehow painting a picture, my tongue delivering tiny brush-strokes to his engorged head.
"Yes, pet. That feels so very good," he said. With the blindfold, I was far more perceptive than usual—I could hear his breaths coming quicker, the saliva quietly sloshing around in his mouth when his tongue shifted, his teeth clinking together when his jaw clenched. I never would have noticed these subtle sounds before—and it was making the situation that much more visceral.
His hardness went deeper into my throat as he held my head, fucking into my mouth with his hips. I fought the urge to gag and succeeded, deep throating him, taking him as far into my mouth as I could. He growled loudly, a man that had become a slave to his own pleasure. His motions were almost mechanical as his body began to approach orgasm. By that point, my mouth was familiar with every bump and ridge on his cock, a beautiful map that haunted my mind as I worked. I pulled away from the cock and focused my swirling tongue on the underside of his head, my lips focusing on the rest of the tip.
"Oh god, yes! Yes, pet!" Roland moaned loudly as he released his seed into my mouth. I was hit with spurt after spurt of salty cum, swallowing it all as it arrived. His taste was so mild, salty, but not overwhelming so. His cock contracted again and again, pressing up against the roof of my mouth with every clench of his muscles. He pulled away after his orgasm had concluded, leaning down to kiss my lips. I eagerly accepted the kiss.
"Just beautiful, pet. You've come so far already." His breaths were loud and deep, almost like the inside of his body was made of hollow steel.
"Thank you, Sir," I said. I really liked that he was complimenting me. It felt so warm and authentic. I couldn't believe the rollercoaster ride of sensations I'd experienced while not being able to see. Yeah, I didn't want to be blind going forward—but this had actually proven to be a pretty great experience thus far. The abundance wetness between my legs confirmed that fact.
"Okay, the scene still isn't over." His hands grabbed me around the waist and helped me stand up again. He pressed my body against the cross and secured my ankles, facing me forward this time. I felt a spark of anticipation in my belly, one that was lighting a small fire in my belly. My hands were released from the handcuffs and then planted and re-secured against the cross, one by one. It was now my ass that was exposed, pointing forward into the room like some sort of soft monument. Moisture continued to pool between my thighs, slowly trickling down my legs.
Roland's fingers parted my pussy lips, gently easing inside for a moment. I shivered with excitement as he touched me, up until the point where he slid the small egg-shaped object inside of me, leaving it there. It was thick, but it didn't hurt. I didn't totally understand it at first, instead trying to just be patient and see where things went.
"We're going to start very simply here, my pet. Please, try to relax." His voice was lower than it had been before, huskier. There was a clicking sound and then I heard him squeeze a bottle. He gripped my ass, spreading the cheeks apart, and teased my puckered little asshole with his lubed finger. The lube was cold at first, causing me to fight him initially. "Shh," he said. "It's all right. You've got such a beautiful virgin asshole, my pet. So pure and unused."
Oh shit. Can I really deal with this?
His finger eased into me, all the way up to the first knuckle. The lube helped a lot, but still it was so painful at first, my muscles tensing up and holding his finger in place. He moved that finger around gently, stretching me just a little bit. Next, he followed with his second finger—and it was too much.
"Sir, please!" I whined. I was having trouble acclimating to this new sort of pressure. Honestly, I'd never even been remotely interested in anal play ever in my life.
"There is no debate," he said matter-of-factly. "You will like this. I have been right every time thus far. I am your Dom, pet, and I am responsible for exploring your pleasures—both the ones you know about and the ones you don't. Remember that. Please, take a deep breath and relax."
You have to trust him, Marisa. That's what this is all about.
But why did I trust him anyway? I wasn't sure if it was for my interview or just for the sexual exploration. Maybe it was both. I started out with a goal that had become very cloudy as I got to know this man better.
Feeling like an animal trapped in a corner, I took his advice, taking the deepest breath I've ever taken in my life and trying to release the tension in my muscles. "Yes, Sir," I said, my words breathy and full. His fingers were still inside of me and clearly, they weren't going anywhere anytime soon. My body finally started to relax, my sphincter giving up in its fight to prevent his entrance.
His fingers began to press against the rings of muscle inside of me, muscle that was far more sensitive than I ever would have imagined. He gently probed, touching me, fingering me. It didn't take long—suddenly I was beginning to enjoy this formerly forbidden exploration, realizing that he was making my pussy scream with excitement through his pressure on the back wall. It was nice to suddenly learn that all of these parts were so intricately connected, all of them providing pleasure that I wouldn't have ever known about without Roland. One more finger made its way in, and then he eased them all out. Like I had felt in my pussy, he pushed a small egg into my asshole, one that fit very nicely after the fingers had done their job. I felt empty just for a second until the object was inside.
"Very nice," he said. "Does that feel all right?"
"Yes, Sir," I said. Both my pussy and asshole were filled, but I was okay with it for some reason. I still didn't get the point of the egg things. Were they just placeholders to keep me stretched out or something?
"Now, my pet, based on all the dirty things that you've done thus far, I've surmised that you're a very dirty girl, one that needs to be punished for her transgressions. There will be no debate, is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir," I said, forgetting entirely about the spanking he had delivered the previous day, so lost in the fantasy. The word punishment should have set me on alert, but it hadn't.
Thwack!
Pain shot through my body, pain much sharper than what I had received from the spanking. It was more centralized in one spot, more focused, like a sharp needle pricking me along a small strip. I cried out, so shocked at the sudden change in feeling after all of the probing. "Sir!" I begged.
Thwack!
He struck my other cheek, the one that had been spared by the first strike. It stung even worse. Tears formed in my eyes, tears that would have nowhere to go due to the blindfold.
Buzz!
"Oh my god!" I shouted. The objects in both my pussy and ass came to life, vibrating, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I forgot about the pain just like that, suddenly overwhelmed by such pleasure." Both parts of me were working in conjunction, causing me to writhe against that cross, to fight as pleasure defeated my will.
Both objects stopped.
Thwack! He struck me again and I cried out.
"So bad," he said. "Such a dirty little slut. You like that, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir," I said. The pain hurt bad, but I just wanted more of the vibration. Why wouldn't he give it to me? "Please make me come, Sir," I said.
"You'll come when I say so." He hit me again and again, my flesh burning and sensitive. I felt warmth flush my face red, probably just as red as my ass cheeks were.
Buzz!
I swore I could hear it before I felt it, almost like I had a sense for impending pleasure. My body felt like a sea ravaged by storm, waters rushing and rolling, chaotic and wild. The excitement was threatening to drown my consciousness. And just like before, he stopped.
"Damnit!" I cried out. He was taunting me, teasing. The goal was to make it something I couldn't live without, something that was a need rather than just a want. My swollen rear began to throb again, my mind no longer distracted by how good I felt. It really hurt like hell.
"I'm sweetening the deal for you, my pet. I promise." He struck my thighs, the fat helping to insulate me from the full intensity of the blow. Well, at least I thought that at first.
Thwack!
It hurt just as bad as everything else had. My skin actually felt like it was pulled around my muscles tighter than ever, so taut and immobile, like the crop could cut right through it. But as it burned, I realized my body seemed to remember the pleasure just as well, blending all of the sensations together at once. I think my body was begging to be struck even more, expecting it to feed into my craving for release. Even though I was in pain, my eyes had stopped watering. Either my tear ducts were empty, or I was actually enjoying this torment. I think the latter was true.
