Spanking for sassiness

I’m preparing a website to showcase my photography and it’s probable that some of the pics that make the final cut will include an ex girlfriend who modeled semi-professionally. It’s not about the relationship, it’s about the quality of the pictures, and my overall drive for excellence in what I want to do.

Now, about face shots and Amy.

I take lots of pictures of Amy’s face. You just don’t get to see them. And that is most assuredly a loss for the readers of this blog.

I’m still shooting erotica that shows Amy’s face; we are just archiving them until the time comes that we can release them. Five years, twenty years, who knows? But my favorite shot of Amy so far is one of her in a bathrobe and micro blue bikini at sunrise on a balcony in Santa Monica with blue sky and palms in the background. It’s an iconic “California blond” image. But it’s nothing without her face in it.

And that’s where the problem comes in. I’ve shot some great shots of Amy with her face, and then I’ll have her turn her head to hide her face, and shoot another for the blog.

That bothers me.

I’m not striving for excellence, I’m deliberately shooting an inferior picture, and that is demeaning to the picture itself.

So the problem has been with me compromising my own integrity. That’s made me cranky when I’m shooting, and I’ve complained to Amy when I’ve taken a great pose, and then altered it to hide her face, just so I can show it here. And she takes it personally, my reaction to my own issue, as if it were her fault.

No more.
If hiding her face doesn’t also make for a great image and pose, I’m not shooting the picture.

I will henceforth produce only images of Amy that meet my own standard of excellence.

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Review of our first night in a BDSM club

Amy has given a good description of our first night at a club. One thing that she didn’t seem to realize was just exactly why some many Doms were talking to us. She assumed that we were all talking “Domly” stuff that she found uninteresting. I pointed out to her that they were talking to me because they wanted to fuck her.

The thought horrified her, and she claims not to believe it, but I’ve been around enough to know better. If you want to play with someone’s slave, you have to go through her owner, not through her. So, Amy makes me more popular than I usually am. I also pointed out to her that I have been offered the use of someone’s slave before at a dungeon, and she is dealing with the thought/fear that I could do the same.

Anyway, the next night found us at a different club, a very elegant club with theme rooms, a dance floor, a bar, etc., and with house submissives that tend to your needs, to a certain degree, anyway (Some needs, you just gotta bring your own slave).
Amy adjusting

We saw a school room, a dungeon, a sissy maids room – all sorts of great facilities. But the best part was watching the play.

Early on, we watched a lesbian couple doing some flogging, and just generally enjoyed the ambiance.

Then, a couple of plushies and a few cross dressers showed up, as well as some intriguing Dominatrices and others. Some nice corsets, a tall brunette schoolgirl, and a stunning pigtailed anime styled blond asian woman. A nice mix of people; my kind of people, so I felt really at home.

Amy and I wandered off through the many secluded rooms and hallways, with me stopping from time to time to ease a breast out of her corset, and play with her nipples as she took a sharp intake of breath. Once I lifted her skirt and played with her ass, which made her visibly nervous, and in another room she laid back on an examining table while I held a hand over her eyes and played with a few vulnerable parts of her body, as passers-by peeked in for a casual glance at what was going on.

I think the sexiest part of the night, other than Amy and I playing with each other, was watching some extended play a man did with a woman tied almost nude to a chair largely woven from metal braid. He did far more than just flog her, whipping her pierced breasts repeatedly, invading her mouth with his fingers at will, and putting a satisfying beating on her in general, from her thighs to her belly. Quite sexy, and with the assistance of his submissive dressed as a plushie – some kind of bear I think – a very visually appealing overall, with a nice level of flair.

In the same room, at the same time, a complete novice was being shown how to use a flogger by a friendly and experienced Dominatrix. She showed a lot of patience and gave some really good tips to a man who seemed to have never held a flogger before.

We left the club some time after midnight, and in the parking lot, I helped Amy ease out of her corset for the ride back home. She’s beginning to get used to dressing and undressing in intriguing places, which bodes well for the future!

Second thoughts about submission

As I said in my last post, my fears about Richard’s increasing aggressiveness were justified. Before we went to bed, he put me into leg chains for the night, “so I wouldn’t get away”. He woke me in the middle of the night as he unclipped one of my leg cuffs, then pushed my legs apart and entered me. I could tell from how wet I was that he had been playing with me while I slept.

I moaned, and he slapped a hand over my mouth.

“Shut up. Just fuck.”

I did what I was told. I could tell he was feeling very aggressive. Not good to argue with him at such times.

He fucked me for a while, moving his hands from my mouth, to my throat, to my breasts, and back again. Then he pulled out and shoved his cock in my mouth. His very hard, very large cock. I choked and he just pushed in deeper. Bastard.

He face-fucked me while I drooled and gasped and choked, and then he flipped me onto my belly, grabbed my hips and hauled my ass into the air. He kicked my legs apart and began to slam-fuck me. I could hear the leg chains, still attached to my right leg, rattle as he fucked me.

He grabbed my hair and wrapped it around his wrist and suddenly stopped, deep inside me.

“Where’s your collar?” he growled.

“Um. I don’t know. In the drawer?”

“Get it.” He pushed off me.

I jumped out of bed and starting digging through the dresser drawer in which my collar usually resides.

“It’s not here.”

“Well, where the fuck is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ll look in the bedside table.”

It wasn’t there. I could almost hear his annoyance.

“I just remembered! It’s in the bathroom.” I ran and got it.

He put it on, roughly yanking it closed. “What kind of slave doesn’t know where her collar is?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” (meekly)

Then he fucked me some more, and he was NOT gentle. When he was done, he put the second leg cuff on himself and said “Now you won’t be going anywhere.”

But he didn’t cum, so I knew I was in for it. I behaved like a saint all day yesterday, “Yes sir” and “No sir” about everything. When he said “Jump” I said “How high?” (Not really, my father used to say that lol.) We did a photoshoot, OUTSIDE with me NAKED, and I DID NOT COMPLAIN ONCE. I definitely earned the title “Good Girl” yesterday.

Jeez, I’ve done it again. I haven’t gotten to the part in the title, but I really have to do some work now. More later. Promise.

Buying whips to punish the wife

We finally got the kids sent off Monday night. That evening we had a quiet dinner and stared shell-shocked at the upside-down house.

Yesterday morning we woke up early and snuggled for a bit, then I got up and made coffee and a nice breakfast. We both got lots of work done and put the house in order.

In the afternoon, we went to a feed store. I wanted to bring home baby chicks, but had to settle for a stock tank that we are going to modify into a hot tub (there are websites that show you how to do this!) Richard headed off into the horse section and suddenly I hear him from across the store: “Pony girl!”

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Oh.My.God.

I looked across and he was grinning from ear to ear, waving a pair of hobbles in the air.

“Look at these!”

I scampered over to him, so he’d stop talking so loudly, even though I was waiting for a store clerk to bring me some eye drops for our dog.

“Richard. Shhh. People can hear you.”

“Have you seen the WHIPS? They’re so CHEAP!”

He headed over to a bucket full of whips and riding crops, touching every kind of horse paraphernalia you can imagine along the way, exclaiming as he went. I followed, whispering quietly that people could HEAR him, we were going to get KICKED OUT before we got our stock tank if he didn’t BE QUIET.

He pulled out what looked like a buggy whip – about four foot of rod and two foot of whip – and cracked it over his head: “This is only TEN BUCKS! I could really use this on you!”

At this point the store clerk (a really cute, hunky young guy, incidentally) found me and handed me the eye drops, while eyeing Richard cautiously. I thanked him, but he didn’t go away for the rest of our visit, following me from the horse supplies, where Richard continued to rifle through the crops and whips, to the pet supplies, to the baby chicks. I bet he was looking for bruises. I told Richard that he probably slipped a note into my bag offering assistance. Richard said no, he probably slipped a note into HIS pocket offering to help whip me. Hmph.

I figured I was in for trouble when we got home, but the ride seemed to settle him down. We had a nice, quiet, vanilla evening. I was finishing up a project on-line and Richard was reading on the couch next to me. I was uploading a series of graphics and started complaining about how long it was taking. This perked Richard up.

“Here. I’ll spank you while it uploads. Then you won’t be bored.”

“Um, gosh, thanks. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Nope. C’mere.”

So I laid across his lap and he pulled down my panties and spanked me, keeping an eye on the computer. When the upload completed, he pulled up my panties and let me sit up. It was a weird transition, with my bottom still stinging, trying to get back to my logical thinky-brain. I started to upload another graphic, making sure not to complain this time. To no avail.

“C’mon. Back up.”

“Richardddd…”

“Now.”

Damn, this one was a really large file. He spanked me for a long time, and he was spanking harder. I couldn’t help squeaking a few times when he really connected.

“Your ass is getting really red. I like this. You’re not so bored now, are you?”

One final graphic, and this one was shorter. By the end of this one, my ass was really stinging and hot. Plus I was feeling very submissive and very turned on.

We went up to the bedroom and I went into the closet and got the riding crop and brought it to Richard. I still can’t believe I did this! Am I getting braver or stupider?? But the look on his face was worth it – it made him so happy.

He caressed it and said “This is much nicer than the ones at the store.”

“I know. It was more expensive too, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. C’mere.”

So I got swatted with the crop a few times, which was stingy but not much stingier than a spanking (shh, don’t tell Richard) and then I got very nicely fucked. But he didn’t cum, which concerned me a little, because when Richard doesn’t cum he starts feeling aggressive.

I’ve noticed this – if we fuck and he doesn’t cum, he’s very focused on me and a bit rough when he handles me, and if we fuck and he doesn’t cum AGAIN, then he’s even more focused and more aggressive. And so on. And with the kids now gone, there was no need for him to be quiet or worry about keeping me quiet.

And my fears were justified. I have to do some work now, so I’ll write about what happened in the middle of the night on my next post. Sorry to be a tease…

Licking her

Remember the scene in Batman Returns, when Catwoman has Batman pinned down and…licks him? We were shopping yesterday evening and Richard mentioned how sexy that scene was. I don’t usually remember anything about movies, but I remember THAT. Scorching. (In fact, I went to Wikipedia to make sure I had the right movie, and I didn’t remember anything else about it. Penguin wants to rehabilitate his image?? He attacks the city with robo-penguins??)

I asked him why that would be sexy to us, given that I’m a submissive woman and he’s a dominant man. He said “She fought back. She didn’t win, but she was a worthy opponent.”

Mostly I do what I’m told.

“Spread your legs.”

“Wider.”

“Masturbate. Now.”

“Show me.”

But yesterday morning was different.

My nipples were a bit tender, from a combination of the time in my cycle, and wearing a teensy little bikini the day before that rubbed them a bit, and rough handling from Richard. I was still groggy, just waking up, when Richard began teasing them. It felt nice at first, because he was barely brushing against them, but then his touch got firmer and they started to hurt.

If I had been wide awake, I would probably have said “That kind of hurts.” Usually he would stop if I said that, or change pressure. Instead, I whimpered and tried to pull away.

Bad idea. Richard growled low in his throat and pulled me closer. I looked up at him, startled, and saw The Look.

The Look. That’s when Richard enters Predator mode, or at least that’s how I think of it. I seem to set it off when I act like prey – try to escape, or whimper, or squeal. If I run, he immediately makes chase. It’s primal. It’s scary.

He grabbed my wrists and pinned them over my head with one hand. With the other, he began to play with my breasts harder.

Surprisingly, they no longer hurt so badly, maybe because he was handling my whole breast rather than just the nipples. Plus he was dead sexy, so I was getting really turned on, really fast. My breasts can take much rougher handling when I’m aroused.

He kicked my legs apart and shoved into me. It took three or four tries, because I couldn’t guide him in with my arms above my head. It’s such a contrast, the hard ramming against me and then, suddenly, sliding so easily into my wetness.

He let go of my arms so that he could grab me by the ass and re-position me. He slammed into me a few more times. Then. He paused for a second, reached down and grabbed my nipple. Hard.

I lost it. I started fighting back. Richard says I was saying things that didn’t make sense. I bit him on the face. I hit him on the back and shoulders. I tried to buck him off. I growled. Through it all, Richard held on to my nipple and slam-fucked me down into the mattress.

When he released the pressure on my nipple I would stop fighting and fuck him back. Then he would grab a nipple again and I would shriek and buck and bite – his neck, his shoulders, his face. But I couldn’t have told you at the time that that was what was happening. I was a complete animal.

Once when I bit him particularly hard, Richard slapped me in the face, then grabbed me by the hair to hold my face away from him. Then he fucked me some more.

After what felt like hours of this – fucking, fighting, fucking – Richard pulled off me. We were both exhausted. He kissed me, he told me he loved his wild girl, then he told me to get up and go to the bathroom.

I gave him my own Look. The Look said something like “Make me” or “Whatever.” Not a look that this good girl is likely to give, but I HATE when he tells me to go to the bathroom.

I started to get up, but he grabbed me and pulled me back down.

“Oh no. I don’t think so. You’re not getting up now.”

“You’re going to masturbate for me.”

“Please. I’m tired. I don’t want to.” (sounding progressively whinier)

“Masturbate. Now.”

I began to masturbate, but my heart wasn’t in it. Or my cunt. Or my clit.

I even tried to talk him out of making me as I did.

“I’m so tired. Why do I have to? Can I stop now?”

He ignored me, and began to play with my breasts again, but more gently.

“Pleeeeeease.”

“That is the most pathetic attempt at masturbating I have ever seen. Do I need to hurt you to get you to masturbate for me?”

I got a little more focused.

He played with my breasts and I got closer to cumming. He can tell when I’m close; I start holding my breath, my belly gets tight and quivers, I get really quiet.

But I was tired, so I wasn’t cumming.

“I’ve been waiting long enough. Im going to play rougher with you now.”

He grabbed both nipples and began twisting and pulling. It pushed me over and I was cumming, cumming so hard I couldn’t breathe or see or think.

He slammed back into me and it felt so sweet, so good, every thrust I pushed up against him and again and again and he came and filled me and collapsed on me and I held him against me.

And maybe I licked him, and maybe I didn’t. But I reckon I’m a worthy opponent.

How to be daddy’s little girl

This is a hard post to write. It’s taken me several months to become comfortable with being sexually submissive. I’ve written about how I’ve wrestled with the term “slave”, as well as the reality of being one.

This is harder. I’m afraid I’m going to squick some of you out. I could squick myself out if I’m not careful.

Richard has forced me, over the last few months, to face who I am, to look into the dark parts of myself and, rather than run and hide, to look harder. This doesn’t come naturally to me, and it has been scary. But, as I said to the silent male, it is incredible how easy everything is once you open up to who you really are, instead of trying to hide it or ignore it. So here goes the next step in that evolution.

Richard and I have talked about how the Master/slave dynamic doesn’t feel 100% right to us, nor does “owner/owned”. One of my problems is that I feel much more nurtured by Richard than those terms seem to imply. I feel like I have a more exclusive and intimate relationship with him than a slave would have with her Master. After all, a Master could have several slaves, yes?

Richard has called me “girl” since he’s known me. Recently he’s been calling me “little girl” and even “baby girl”. I LOVE it when he calls me that. It feels so completely right. It says to me: he’s in control and he will take care of me. All I need to do is be a good girl and do what I’m told. Heaven.

I told him that I wished there was a good word for who he is for me.

He said “What about Daddy?”

I said I felt funny using that word. Wouldn’t that mean I had serious unresolved issues with my own father? Wouldn’t that mean I was a screwed up freak? He didn’t think so.

I tiptoed around the word. I tested it out a couple of times during sex, mumbling it into Richard’s shoulder as he fucked me. It felt weird. Not good.

I realized that calling Richard “Daddy” made me feel more vulnerable and more submissive than I was yet comfortable with. I couldn’t believe that he could still love me and be attracted to me if I were that submissive. I still can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that, the more submissive I am, the happier Richard is. I guess I’ve been around men who’ve wanted to be dommed for most of my life.

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To put this in perspective: just a year ago, I learned that many men like women to shave their pussies (yes, I’ve been living in a closet). I thought that men who like this must be closet pedophiles, since young girls have bare pussies. Uh, no. Richard, at least, loves anything that lets him see more of me (remind me to tell you about my new micro bikini. Gulp.)

So what to do about this issue of what to call Richard? I’ve been calling him “Sir” when he gives me an order, Richard in front of others, and basically avoiding the issue.

Richard doesn’t like to avoid issues. Richard doesn’t like for me to avoid issues.

A few days ago, I woke up to him playing with my breasts. When he saw that I was awake he began talking to me.

“Daddy’s girl has beautiful breasts.”

I moaned and tried to pull away. He clamped down on my nipples and pulled me back against him.

“Be a good girl. Daddy wants to play with your breasts.”

He wrapped one arm tight around my waist so I couldn’t move and roughly tugged and pulled and pinched my nipples. I struggled weakly, but I was still groggy and he had a strong grip on me.

“Does that feel good? Tell Daddy how it feels.”

Oh god. It felt incredible. It felt so good, and I was still so groggy, that I wasn’t capable of answering. He kept playing with me and talking to me and when he flipped me onto my back and entered me a few minutes later, I was so wet it startled him.

“Oooooh, Daddy’s girl wants to fuck, doesn’t she? Are you a slut, little girl?”

Gah.

Afterwards, we talked about it. He had decided to push me on this, because he could sense that I had a lot of feelings around it. It turned us both on. A lot.

Today when he was fucking me, he told me that I wasn’t allowed to call him “Sir” anymore, only “Daddy”.

I’ve been calling him “Daddy” all day. It feels really hot. And really right.

Delaying sex to make her more horny

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’d hoped to get Richard drunk on daquiris and seduce him Tuesday night. To no avail. A few minutes after posting my wicked plans, I passed out face down on the couch. Honestly, he must have slipped something into my drink because no way do I get drunk that easily. Or maybe the long day had weakened my tolerance…

I woke up to the dog barking. Richard came over because I was so confused and gently helped me up. I couldn’t figure out what time or day it was. He finally managed to get me upstairs, where I proceeded to fall face first on the bed.

He took off my clothes and tucked me into bed.

I woke up in the morning feeling fine. We sleep in spoons, with my ass in his lap and his arms around me, holding my wrists in his hands. I wiggled around and snuggled up under his arm. He pulled me closer.

I started kissing his neck and nibbling on his chest and shoulders. He squeezed me tighter but didn’t open his eyes.

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I rubbed my chest against his. This usually works to wake him up. Today he just caressed me lightly for a moment then fell back asleep.

I flipped over and wiggled my ass against his belly. That woke him up.

“What are you doing, little girl?” he said groggily.

I giggled. He grabbed me by the hip and pulled me closer. I ground into him.

He groaned and buried his face in my hair. I could feel him nuzzling the back of my neck. His hand reached around to my breasts. He caressed them gently then began playing with my nipples.

But after a couple of minutes he fell back asleep!

This was challenging. I really needed him to fuck me. After a couple of minutes of fruitlessly rubbing and wiggling and snuggling, I knew that I had to do something more.

“Would you please spank me?”

“What?”

“Please spank me Richard. I really need a spanking.”

“Really? You WANT a spanking?”

“Yes please.”

He was wide awake.

“Roll over.”

“Yes sir.”

I rolled over. Then I got nervous.

“I don’t need a HARD spanking. Just a LITTLE spanking is fine.”

“Oh really.”

He began smacking my bottom, moving from side to side.

“Oh! Yes, just a little. Oh!”

“You want to decide how much spanking you get?”

He smacked a bit harder, and then he stayed in one place for a few smacks. That hurts worse.

I didn’t want to answer that question. Yes, of course I want to decide. But if I say that, will I get in more trouble? Probably. I kept quiet. Well, except for the inadvertent squeaks when he smacked me particularly hard.

But then he stopped and rolled me over and looked into my eyes.

“I like spanking you.”

“Yes.” (I know that, that’s why I asked him to spank me. I was hoping it would get me laid.)

He reached out, took my hand and placed it on his cock. His hard cock.

“I really like spanking you.”

“Ooooohhhh.”

And then, before I had time to think, he flipped me back onto my belly, hauled my ass into the air and slammed his cock into me. And it just got better from there.

So I did seduce him, eventually. No thanks to the daquiris.

She wanted to get fucked so bad

Minor surgery last week left me in the unusual situation where I am not supposed to have sex for at least two weeks. No sex, and preferably, no orgasms.

Preferably according to the doctor, that is.

Amy suggested that she not cum over the next two weeks as well, to share what I am going through.

No.

At first, it sounded like a nice experiment in orgasm denial for both of us, but I like making Amy cum. So she doesn’t want to this week, but I have the delicious pleasure of making her cum when she is objecting to it. Well, objecting to a point. Once I play with her nipples long and hard enough, she’s not sentient enough to form a coherent objection any more, unless you count the word “No.”

Which I don’t.

I woke her up sometime Sunday night, and played with her until she came. No surprise there, but since I hadn’t cum I just let her sleep a few hours, then woke her again. This time she woke up kind of cranky, wanting to sleep and thinking that since I couldn’t fuck her anyway, why was I bothering?

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Whatever.

I used her for a long time that second time, finally letting her cum and she fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted in my arms.

Naturally, I wanted very much to fuck her, but without that option, I simply enjoyed my control over her, and the satisfaction of her wild and sexually helpless under my touch. I knew she wanted to fuck, so I hand fucked her, which worked well enough as a substitute, but only just.

Later that morning, after we were up on the couch some time after breakfast, she cuddled under a blanket to ward off the chill in the house, and began talking about how she liked having a smooth pussy, just freshly epilated.

We talked about her pussy for a while, with Amy playing with it a little, until she began masturbating with me watching.

Wonderful.

I began to consider just how many orgasms Amy could have in a day, not counting the multiple smaller ones she often has. These were the big ones, stunning tremors that leave her speechless and shuddering, sweat slicked and exhausted as I touch and hold her afterwards.

We went upstairs later, and began to play again. Amy whimpered and begged for me not to make her play anymore, withh the usual effect.

This time her orgasm triggered a migraine, which took some care and time to alleviate, and combined with another unforseen circumstance, ended our play for the day. But there seemed to be no sign that she couldn’t cum again, and every time I begin to tweak her nipples she begins to writhe and moan. I’m starting to think she has an infinite resevoir of orgasms, which could explain why she’s always ready to fuck, a trait that I enjoy immensely. This is the first time I’ve made her cum four times in a day; it won’t be the last. I’m not worried about number crunching, but if she can cum more often than I had realized, I want to explore just how extreme I can get with controlling her sexual pleasures.

We haven’t fucked all week, and previously we haven’t gone more thqan 24 hours without fucking, and rarely more than 6 to 8 hours, so this circumstance is very brand new for us. This morning Amy was stroking and holding my cock, whining a little because she wanted to be fucked so bad, and it’s still a week away before I can sink it into her pussy once again.

Well, sort of.

I can’t fuck her hard, not right now.

But I see no problem in slipping my hard cock into her, and tonight I plan to force her lovely mouth down over my cock for some delicate face fucking, as much as I can take anyway, because I am still sensitive from the surgery.

Would have been a perfect week for making her fuck someone else.

It’s certainly been a good week for making her cum against her will, with my hands teasing her nipples, pussy and ass into a state where she suddenly can’t resist her own sexual needs. And cums. And cums again.

And while I won’t yet be cumming in her pretty body any time soon, I’ll still be able to enjoy watching her helpless and in the throes of her own orgasm.

Very, very satisfying.

How to fuck a face

Isn’t that a nasty sounding term – “face fucking”? Or maybe it’s just me.

Richard told me, before we met, that he didn’t really enjoy oral sex (done unto him) very much, although he liked giving oral. He found it too passive, and got bored easily. I imagined him staring at the ceiling, thinking about what color to paint the ceiling, as I knelt between his legs licking and sucking his cock. His attitude was a bit disappointing to me, because I really love to give oral and consider myself rather good at it, too.

But neither of us had experienced face fucking. Me, because I’ve never been in a D/s relationship before this and Richard, because he’d never been interested.

One day I decided, after we’d been kissing and making out for a while (I think he’d already fucked me at least once), that I would see if I could convince him that oral wasn’t such a bad thing.

I began kissing his neck, then down his chest and belly, then nibbled on his hips and along the inside of his thighs. I nudged at his balls and slowly, gently licked and sucked one into my mouth, and then the other.

I looked up at Richard. He didn’t seem to be thinking about painting the ceiling.

His cock was already hard and straining as I licked up its underside. I ran my tongue along the head and into the crease, then I slid my lips over the head. I began slowly sliding my mouth down the shaft, with my tongue working the underside.

I looked up again, with his cock in my mouth. I seemed to have his attention.

I would slide down an inch, licking to keep him wet, then increase pressure as I pulled my mouth up to the tip, then slide down a couple of inches, increase pressure and pull up again, then do it again a little further. My hand was on his belly; I could feel him breathing shallowly.

I was feeling a bit smug. Mr. “I’m In Control Around Here” was putty in my hands.

Suddenly, he reached around to the base of my neck, twisted my hair around his hand a couple of times and used it to shove my face onto his cock.

I gagged; Richard is not a small man.

He held me down like that, with his cock deep in my throat. I was choking and struggling, but that didn’t seem to faze him.

He tightened his grip, and pulled me off his cock, but only to the tip. He held me there for a moment, then plunged me back onto it. I gagged, and drool began to pool at the base of his cock.

He pulled me up again, then began to face fuck me in earnest, rhythmically pushing me down and yanking me back up, with a firm grip on my hair and the base of my neck. My eyes were watering, but after a minute or so I was accustomed to being deep-throated and no longer gagged at each plunge onto his cock.

After a few minutes, he pulled me up, half an inch from the tip of his cock, and held me there. I could see his cock, but I could no longer touch it or taste it. It had become unbelievably hard and large. My jaw was aching, my eyes were tearing, but oh, I wanted him to face fuck me more. I moaned and tried to reach for his cock with my mouth. He pulled me away, still tantalizingly close, and laughed.

“Not bad. Now I’m going to train you to do it how I want it done.”

To be continued…