by Dan Moran
I let go of her legs then, placing her feet on the floor and standing up, hands fumbling at my zipper. She reached forward and knocked my hands away, insisting on doing it herself. Once I was unzipped, she reached through my pants, undid the single button of my boxers, and released my hard flesh. As my rigid meat sprang forward, she instantly slid her open mouth over it, gobbling my swollen head and making me moan with delight. She moved her head around in all directions, wanting to give my cock access to every part of her mouth, and I knew I couldn’t last long. I wanted to fuck her, though, wanted to bend her over on the toilet and ram her hard from behind. I tried to indicate this by touching her head and face, then by trying to back myself out of her mouth, but she refused to move. “Justine,” I whispered, bending down a little to help her hear, “I want to—”
“Mnnhh-Nnngh!” she cut me off, her mouth full of my engorged flesh. To emphasize her point, she brushed my hands away from her, then clamped her own hands tightly on my ass, pulling me toward her face with an iron grip. “Ghhhhnnn!” she exclaimed.
Well, if that was what she wanted, who was I to argue? I just tipped my head back and closed my eyes, enjoying this intense blowjob for the remaining 30 seconds or so it took for me to come voluminously in her mouth. She gulped it all down and continued sucking the sensitive head even after it had shrunk back down. She sucked and licked and even fondled until everything had become completely flaccid again. Then she smiled, tucked me away into the boxers, buttoned them, and zipped me back up. She patted that area of my pants a couple of times and smiled up at me.
I bent down to kiss her, then held out my hand. She took it, and I helped her to her feet. She spun around in front of me, and I got her dress back in good order, smoothing out wrinkles and making sure there were no stains. I also picked up the shreds of her underwear and tossed them into the trash can. “Sorry about those, honey,” I said.
“That’s okay,” she told me, standing at the sink and checking in the mirror. She turned on the faucet and splashed some water on her face, then moved aside so I could do the same. I dried my face off with some paper towels, frowning at the smell of the damp paper as I wiped my mouth.
Once we were somewhat fresh and tidy again, I said, “You go first. Just pause at that outer doorway and let me know if anyone’s coming.”
She exited (and no, the door hadn’t been locked!) and I stayed behind, peering through the crack of the slightly open door, ready to pull it shut and lock it if some woman appeared. I didn’t have to, though. I saw Justine from the back as she tiptoed to the opening of the little awning around the restroom doors. I watched her peek around the opening and then motion me with rapid hand gestures to come out. I did so, shutting off the light. As I rounded the corner, a woman almost bumped into me as she turned to go toward the restroom door. “Pardon,” I said, and she slid past me.
“That was close,” I muttered to Justine as we collected our jackets in the front entrance. She just giggled as I helped her into her jacket.
On the way home, she said, “That was fun. We should do that again sometime.”
“Yes, we should,” I agreed.
I was pretty tired when we got home. Justine took a shower while I straightened the house a bit, then she waited for me in bed while I showered. When I went into the bedroom, naked except for a towel around my waist, I saw her sitting there on the edge of the bed. She was naked, too, and she held the paddle in one hand.
“Come on,” she said flatly. “Lose the towel and get over here.”
I felt like just going to sleep. “Oh, I don’t know...” I said.
“What?” she said loudly. “What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’? Get over my lap right now!”
I decided to go along with it, taking off the towel and lying across her naked thighs. She instantly began smacking me hard with the paddle, telling me, “Oh, you don’t know. But I do! I know! When I decide to spank your little ass, I’m going to do it! NO getting out of it for you! You’re the one who wanted spankings, remember? Well, now you get them. Now you take them! Now you get spanked when I feel like spanking!”
I had begun to feel the pain rather quickly, and with it, that now-familiar sense of pleasured helplessness, that satisfaction at the burning in my buns that made me hard.
“You think that just because you weren’t bad, you don’t deserve a spanking?” she continued. “You think that I can’t just do this whenever I want?”
“No—I mean, yes—oh, I mean...”
“What?” she said with a loud smack! “What do you mean? Is it yes or no?” (Whack, whack, smack, splat....)
“Ow! It’s ye—OW!! Yes! You can do this whenever you wa—Ah! Ooo!”
“Good,” she said, smacking away as I rubbed myself against her legs. “And I notice you’re getting hard again. I’d almost think that you love this! Maybe you should have asked me for it, instead of trying to weasel out of it!”
“I—Oh! I do love it! Ah! Owwwch!”
“Well then, I’d better step things up. Let’s trade this paddle in for a hairbrush.” I heard her fumbling for a moment, and the blows temporarily stopped; but then a loud crack! rang out as the stinging wood of the brush smacked my left buttock.
“OW!” I yelped.
“Ah, you feel it!” she said, and I could tell from her voice that she was smiling. “Good! I love this too! In fact, I think I’m getting addicted to spanking this lovely little ass of yours! I just love to smack it and whack it and spank it! I love that it’s mine! to play! with. You hear me? Your ass is mine! Mine! Say it!”
“It’s—ouch!—yours,” I said, grimacing in delightful pain.
“What is? What’s mine? What can I do? Let me hear you say it!”
“My—Owwww!!! My ass is—ah!—is yours! My ass is yours! Ouch! Ow! You can—ahhhwww!—you can spank me an—Ow ow ow!—any time you want!”
“Oh, you bet your life I can!”
And she went on beating my bottom thoroughly with the hairbrush, smacking every spot, making my butt glow with stinging heat. As I winced and clenched my teeth, I thought about how much Justine had changed, and how quickly. Not long ago, I had to go out of my way to talk her into trying this. Now, she seemed to really enjoy it. In fact, she’d insisted on it this time, even when I hadn’t really wanted to.
She’d been right, of course. I had only thought I didn’t want this, but once I was over her lap and receiving my wonderful punishment, I was glad for it. She’d known I desired it more than I knew it myself. I was happy that she’d insisted.
As the pain built up and the spanks increased in speed and intensity, I began actively grinding against her lap, heading toward my second orgasm of the evening. Suddenly, though, she simply stopped and said, “Okay, that’s enough for one night. Off my lap.”
I rolled away somewhat regretfully, and she put away the brush and the paddle, afterward getting under the covers. “Now I’m tired,” she said, and curled up on her side.
I got under the covers beside her, spooning her and kissing the back of her neck. “Thank you, honey,” I said. “I love you.”
Untitled
Chapter 6
The next Saturday, Justine said that I should go to the gym for a long time. I usually went for three hours on Saturdays, but she said I should do at least four hours. “Why not finish up with an extra hour on the stair machine?” she asked. “After that, why don’t you go to a bookstore for a little while?” She knew how much time I could spend in a bookstore if left alone, so I knew she meant business: She wanted me out of the house for most of the day.
I said yes to all of it—not just because I found the gym rewarding and loved to browse in bookstores, but because Justine really had an eager excitement within her. I loved to see her so animated. I knew this all must have something to do with our rather recently discovered sexual games and attitudes, and this excited me all the more. I felt that something big was in store for me. I sensed that Justine had been subtly and slowly changing ever since I had
first brought up the idea of spankings. For my part, I knew that I had changed. I had initially told her I just wanted some simple spankings, nothing more. I had not known then that my desire would take the shape it had. I had not guessed that my openness in approaching her, and her willingness to engage in my wish, would have unlocked so many doors within me, showing me places that had been kept secret from even myself until Justine and I discovered them together.
By now I knew it was not just occasional spankings that I desired. That had just been the catalyst, the first gateway to a stairway into the recesses of my soul. I did not just want to feel her power when I was over her lap or bent over a chair. Experiencing these things had only served to show me what was within me. I had felt what it was to be completely in her power, and it was not long before I knew this was what I really wanted, had wanted all along, and had only been able to express partially when asking her to punish my ass. I became aware that I was hers, completely hers, and desired her to take me and use me and play with me and do with me what she would. My love and my lust were, at bottom, one. I belonged to her to the very depth of my being.
I had not told her this much, though. I was afraid to. I trembled with fear even to acknowledge it to myself; how could I let her know everything? Still, some part of me knew that I must... somehow, sometime.
I also knew that Justine had changed since we first began to try these new things. At first she had been curious, willing to participate only because of her love. But I knew I had awakened something. It was not long before the spankings became much more real, before her curious innocence had given way to a lust for having me in her grip, a sense of fulfillment at the power she held. Her initial compliance with my desperate pleas had turned into real relish at dispensing punishments, and finally into a sense of lustful dominance that transformed her into a being that delighted in its complete control of me.
She never said anything like this, of course, but I could tell. She was more and more satisfied and happy with the games we played, and this in turn made me more satisfied and happy, and this energy only built and fed each of our souls and brought us to new heights.
I knew this was what lay behind her surprise, her mysterious wish to get me away from the house for some hours, her request for a large amount of money. I did not say anything about this, but I knew. And some part of me knew that she knew. And this only made me more compliant.
And so, off I went.
***
When I returned home it was dusk, and the last hints of light were fading at the far edge of the sky. I walked in and took my shoes off, putting my gym bag down, and noting a bottle of wine on the kitchen table. It was open; the cork lay on the table beside two glasses. Most of the lights in the house seemed to be off, and those that were on had been dimmed. I could hear some faint music coming from the living room stereo—it sounded like one of Justine’s mix CDs of German techno and industrial.
“Ah, you’re home,” came Justine’s voice, and I saw her emerge from the living room wearing her shortest black skirt and a very sexy blouse of red fabric sheer enough for me to see the lacy black bra beneath. Around her neck, she wore a necklace I had bought her some years before; it had little metal roses of pale purple, and the metal stems with their thorns looked like barbed wire. She had put on some dark lipstick and smiled as she came into the kitchen. As she approached, I caught a whiff of the perfume I had recently bought for her on that last trip to the mall.
“Yes, I am,” I said, kissing her and then embracing her. I broke the hug then and gestured toward the wine. “Is this part of your surprise?”
She nodded. “It’s a 2000 Barolo.”
My eyes lit up, and I regarded the bottle. “Wow, honey! That’s great.”
“I wanted to give you your favorite.”
“You’re my favorite,” I said, and I held her face with both hands and gave her a long kiss.
She slid her tongue into my mouth and put her arms around my waist, then broke away and started toward the living room. “Why don’t you pour us some and bring it into the living room?”
“All right,” I said, holding the bottle close to my nose before pouring, to get an initial hint of its bouquet. I poured a rather generous amount into our large glasses, then took one in each hand out of the kitchen to where Justine awaited me.
I paused after stepping into the living room, admiring the scene. Justine had strung up some small party lights that held their bulbs within red globes; a set hung over each window. No other lights were on, but two red candles were lit on the coffee table in front of the couch. The screens were pulled down in each window. The room was closed off, warm, inviting with its low light. Justine had turned up the music just a bit, and for a moment, it felt like I was stepping into a college party or a goth club. Except, of course, that there was only one person here besides me—the lovely, sexy beauty who waited for me on the couch, sitting at an angle with her legs curled beneath her.
“Thank you,” she said as I handed her a glass. I sat down, and she raised her glass. “To us,” she smiled.
“To us,” I agreed, clinking her glass lightly.
We each took a sip then, and I closed my eyes as I always did with my first sip of Barolo, following the development of the taste and feeling how each part of my tongue reacted, swallowing and contemplating the finish. I opened my eyes and saw her looking into them. “It’s wonderful,” I told her.
“It is rather delicious,” she said. “Now, drink some more, and I’ll tell you about some of the things I bought today.” I took a long gulp then, watching as she pulled out a shopping bag of black plastic from her side of the couch.
“First,” she said, reaching inside and feeling around for a moment, “I want to show you this.” She withdrew a small band of black leather that I recognized, after a moment, to be a collar. I could see a small steel padlock and a couple of metal rings or clasps. I took another drink.
“This is a collar for you,” she told me. “When you wear it, you will be mine. You will surrender to my pleasure until I release you or until you say the magic word. Until one of those things happens, you belong to me.” Her voice was soft and soothing, and I saw that she was getting herself excited; she squirmed a bit and had put one hand in her lap. She took several gulps of the wine, and put the glass down. “I want to see you in it,” she said in a kind of desperate whisper. “Oh, I want to see you in it. Please, please. Will you?” She had actually begun rubbing herself through her skirt.
“Well, since you’re so excited. I’m actually excited, too. I love the idea.”
“Then stand up and get naked. Get naked now. When you put on the collar, you will always start with nothing else on. Oh, I love it...” She sat up normally on the couch and leaned forward, picking up the collar in both hands and playing with it while I stripped for her. Once I was fully nude, I walked toward her and naturally fell to my knees, hands at my side, facing her at about eye level as she sat looking lustfully into my eyes.
“Oh, you’re so good,” she said huskily. “Now look at me. Lift your chin. A little more.” She placed her fingertips gently under my chin and raised it until she was satisfied. “There. That’s it now. Bare your throat to me, my love.”
I tilted my head back with wholehearted surrender and felt her kissing my throat and neck tenderly. Then I felt the touch of the heavy leather, slightly colder than room temperature, against my skin. She held part of it in place with one hand, and with the other wrapped the collar around me. She fiddled a bit, seeming to get something in place. I could not, of course, see what was happening, but it felt as though the collar had a wide part that wrapped around once and another, smaller strip that wrapped around a second time. I could feel some kind of metal ring at either side of my neck, and when she seemed to have everything in order and clipped some things together in front, she finished by showing me the small padlock of brushed steel. Dangling it before my eyes for a moment, smiling, she looped it through the front of the collar and snapped
the lock shut.
“There,” she said. “All locked in place. You’re all locked up. You’re mine now. Yes—mine.” She spread her legs just a bit before me, rubbing her crotch with her right hand, her left stroking her breasts lightly. “Ooo, you look so good in that. I love it. I love having you in thrall. Oh, you’re mine...”
“Yes...” I whispered, starting to place my hands upon her knees, leaning forward to kiss her thighs. But she cut me off abruptly.
“No!” she said, slapping my hands away. “You’re mine. I’m not yours. Do not presume to touch me unless I command it.”
I let my hands drop back to my sides. “Of course,” I said. “I’m yours.”
She reached forward and picked up one of the red candles from the coffee table. “Show me,” she said. “Hold out your hands, palms up.”
I immediately did so, looking up at her with utter calm. She brought the candle near my left wrist, then tilted it slowly until a few drops of the hot liquid fell and spattered on my skin. I felt the scalding pain for a moment, but it subsided quickly. Then Justine dripped some wax on my right wrist. I smiled at her as my cock throbbed, aroused by the delicate torment of the hot wax. She raised the candle and let the drops fall from a greater height, making larger splatters on my skin and causing me to gasp with delight. She dripped the wax in slow, swirling patterns from my wrists to my forearms, occasionally looking up and returning my smile. Once the wax reached my biceps, though, she put the candle down.
“I guess you really are mine,” she said, finishing off her wine with a single gulp. “Here,” she said, tugging my head forward slightly by pulling the padlock in the collar I wore. She picked up my glass and held it to my lips, tilting it slightly and letting me sip. She pulled it away then and took a long sip herself. When she leaned forward to kiss me, I realized she had not swallowed, as she gave me the wine from her mouth. I drank it all down, my erection aching powerfully, and when she took her mouth away, I felt a tiny drop roll down my chin. She ran one finger upwards on my face, catching the drop and inserting the finger into my mouth, where I sucked it dry.
