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…

A good girl in the hands of a bad man

I sleep with danger.

She sleeps beside me now, breathing softly. A few moments before, she lay against me naked under the duvet, her head on my shoulder, one soft breast pressed against my chest, and one smooth thigh open and over my leg, her dampness pressed against me.

She laughs when I call her “dangerous.”

“You’re the dangerous one,” she tells me. “The Bad Man.”

Her innocence is charming. She sees herself as very boring, just another woman, nothing particularly shocking. Good at her job, a good mom who loves gardening and a good girl who has spent her life doing good things.

A good girl in the hands of a bad man.

“You just came across the room at me,” she said today, wonderingly. “You didn’t say anything, you didn’t kiss me, you didn’t touch me. You just entered me and started fucking me.”

Yes. This morning. She has it partly right, but not completely. Understandable, because she wasn’t there for all of it.

I took her to bed last night, both of us feeling distant due to work and family pressures. That afternoon we had walked on the beach, and she had wandered off when I stopped to photograph things.

I noticed.

I caught up to her, and told her to stay close.

After that, she stayed close.

We joked about putting a leash on her. She said I couldn’t use the training leads, there was a six foot minimum leash requirement. I said six feet would be long enough, and I intended to keep her on a shorter leash than that. She said people would not allow her to be on a leash. I was unconcerned. Funny, though. Let her wear a leather belt and no one would notice. Loop that same belt about her neck, and suddenly you get everyone’s attention.

Especially Amy’s.

“Ooohhh, just a little bit dangerous”

She has pushed off the duvet now. She lies on her belly, facing away from me. Naked from the knees up, the smooth curves of her ass just visible in the light from the laptop, a dark cleavage shadows her most personal entry point. I think briefly about fucking her ass.

I took her to bed last night.

We talked, as I held her from behind. After 10 minutes, she began falling asleep.

I began to play with her breasts. She whimpered. Tired, Amy needed to sleep.

We both need sleep. But we need something else more. As long as we have been together, Amy and I usually fuck several times a night. Some nights only once. I have no plan to fuck her tonight, but I intend to own her fully. We will see what happens.

To be honest, in the fog of exhaustion and arousal, I’m not entirely sure what happened. But two days ago, I made Amy masturbate, and she imagined me sitting in the chair in the bedroom making her fuck someone else, as I have threatened to do.

Amy doesn’t want me to make her fuck someone else. It scares her.

And yet she knows I want to use her, to make her fuck someone else, to be cunt, to obey every command.

She imagined me ordering her to fuck someone, directing her into different positions.

Amy continued to masturbate.

Then she came.

Hard.

She couldn’t confess it until the next day, and even then she couldn’t look me in the eye as she told me what her thoughts had been.

So now as I fuck my tired whimpering girl I take the fantasy deeper, and vividly paint a word picture as we fuck. I talk about her being forced to fuck someone else. About being used. About being wild.

I threaten to play with her tits while she fucks someone else, and Amy begs me not to do it. Play with Amy’s tits long enough, and, well…she loses control.

She goes wild.

Feral.

Dangerous.

She bites, she claws, she scratches. She loses the ability to form words, let alone sentences.

Amy fucks with her teeth sunk into my shoulder. I have many bruises left by her teeth, long rakes down my back from her nails. I wince often when I fuck her, when I have led her to the place of wildness.

She never remembers.

She looks at the bruises, the bite marks, the long scratches, and asks wide-eyed in the morning “Did I do that?”

Yes.

The last thing she says before slipping into that space, before the teeth and nails find my skin, is a whispered frenzied begging that I keep fucking her, that she’ll do anything I want, just keep my cock in her and “please please please keep fucking me.”

You turn around
so hot and dry
you’re hiding under a halo
your mouth is alive 

Her mouth is alive this time. As I fuck her and tell I will force her into a threesome, I let her suck my finger into her mouth, and she fastens to it like a slut on a cock, hungry to suck out the cum. Is it another man’s cock, in her mind? Or is it mine, as I make her fuck someone else? It’s all the same; when the time comes she’ll be lost in the fucking, and I’ve already told her I’ll make her like it, whether she wants to or not.

We fuck for a long time.

At last, she overheats. She whimpers to me that she can’t fuck any more, she’s too hot. I roll off her, and turn on the fan, and lie back down beside her.

We both breathe hard.

Her body is slick with sweat, and she’s claustrophobic and overheated.

I am not done with her.

I kiss my way down between her legs, and lie there, my mouth nudging along her thighs and pussy. I tell her I will do this to her when I want to get her ready for a stranger to fuck.

She gasps a little. I begin to caress her puffy damp lips with my mouth. I’m not sure where she is, in her mind, but as she cools in the blowing air, I hear her cry out and coo, holding her breath and releasing it. Her belly tightens, her thighs flex and her pussy at times rises up to meet my mouth as I tease her.

Eventually, one hand with delicate fingers finds its way down to rest just inside her hip, near her bikini line, if she wasn’t plucked bare.

She wants to masturbate.

She needs to cum.

I tell her to masturbate while I straddle her, playing with her breasts, telling her how perfect her tits are.

I know her nipples are sore by now.

I know hurting her nipples can make her cum.

I hurt her nipples.

“she’s got what it takes to make ends meet
the eyes of a lover that hit like heat “

I know she is close to cumming. Her whole body is tense, and her hand makes the familiar sound between her legs.

Her body thrums.

I play with her swollen breasts, then I say to her, “God, imagine how sore your tits will be after you’ve had to satisfy TWO men playing hard with them.”

She cums.

I’m over her, and I immediately slip my cock into her.

All nerve endings, she fucks now like the wild woman I love, all claws and nails.

We fuck now, until exhaustion slows me. I pull out of her, and hold her in my arms, too tired to cum. The bed sheets are somewhere on the floor.

I hold her firmly in my arms, locked.

She asks for water.

I tell her “No,”

Her body slumps. I straddle her naked body, open the water, and fill my mouth. Then I kiss her, letting it flow into her. She takes it eagerly. I give her more.

I tell her I can’t cum right now, but I will fuck her after I get some rest, and I will cum in her then.

We sleep.

I awake a few hours later, and slide my cock into her from behind. Her pussy is very wet, and I force my way in easily, and fuck her from behind, and from above while she lies on her side, but it’s too soon. I’m still too tired to cum.

I let her drift off to sleep again.

I lie awake beside her.

An hour drifts by.

I hold her from behind, my hand cupping her breast. I shift, letting her soft nipple slide between my thumb and forefinger. Her nipple gets firm in moments. The slightest touch arouses her nipples; it always does.

Amy is still asleep.

I lay her on her back, gently, and begin to suck her nipples.

Amy is unresponsive.

Normally, she would be writhing and begging, or trying to get away, as having her nipples played with drives her into extreme arousal, but she is too lost in sleep. I enjoy the opportunity, and alternate sucking her hard nipples. I am thrilled, and grow very hard.

I seize my sleeping girl’s hips, and drag her startled into the center of the bed and open her thighs. I have my cock in her as her eyes are opening wide in surprise, and I fuck her.

Her breasts press against my chest. I can feel her wet nipples, still firm and slippery, against my body as my cock sinks home.

I imagine making her fuck someone else, a wicked, delicious pleasure that I have still forbidden myself to explore, and I spill myself in her belly, and come to rest in an exhausted slump as Amy holds me.

“Hold on tight
you know she a little bit dangerous”

She still doesn’t think she is dangerous.

I tell her, “Imagine a woman that you can do anything you want to. Explore any desire. Make her do anything. And, imagine that what this woman wants is to do these things, to do whatever she is told, to give up all control to the man who commands her. This woman is dangerous. A man could destroy himself, with a woman like that.”

That woman is Amy.

Before we got together she had some concerns – she didn’t want to be branded, tattooed, or made to fuck anyone else. She agreed she would do them if commanded, but felt that they could be emotionally damaging to her. I decided then that I had to take the responsibility of not exploring these things that I liked, for her protection. And she laughed when I said I would make her my anal slut, or that someday she would beg to be physically disciplined.

She believes now that I can, and will turn her into an anal slut. That she admits. She also admits that she would enjoy being branded or tattooed because it would please me. And while she doesn’t want to fuck anyone else, being forced to do it to please me is hot. And she has already asked for spankings.

So where do I take her now?

I have thought also of making her pregnant. Not in a loving, check to see if she is ovulating, let’s get the timing right kind of way, but taking her, forcing her thighs open, and spilling my sperm within her as she begs and whimpers. Making her have my baby.

Can I resist the pleasures I have set aside? I can take Amy down wicked paths to dangerous places. But there is risk. I can’t promise safety. All I can promise is adventure. But she is more than willing now to go wherever I lead. I begin to imagine her now with the pleasures I forbidden myself to explore, for fear of damaging her.

I can see her now, branded, tattooed, pregnant with my baby and lying beside me naked in bed with another man’s cum still held between her lips.

Oh, and I see her content.

Sleeping peacefully.

“Hold on tight
you know she a little bit dangerous
she’s got what it takes to make ends meet
the eyes of a lover that hit like heat
you know she’s a little bit dangerous
she’s armed and extremely dangerous…”

I am the Bad Man.

I like to do bad things to my good girl. I like to make my good girl do bad things.

My good girl is learning to love everything I do to her; everything I make her do.

She turns over and pulls the duvet under her chin. I slide my hand underneath and play with her nipple. It hardens, and I see her hand slide down to her pussy. She is not awake, but she holds her pussy. Her breathing is slow and deep. In a few moments, I will finish writing, and I will fuck her. She has no idea, but she will be whimpering and begging very, very soon. She will tell me that she will do anything, just “please please please keep fucking me.”

Afterwards, I will fall asleep.

With a woman who loves me to force her to do anything I can imagine.

And as she lies innocent and completely obedient, I will know what she does not.

I sleep with danger.

Training her for belly dance

Amy is learning to belly dance.

She doesn’t want to show me what she has learned until she feels she can do it properly, which is cool with me, but last night she wanted to show me a couple of her moves.

She had on a thin gray undershirt, her jingling coin skirt, and something else – I don’t know what. I found it hard to look below her upper body, with her braless 38D breasts at eye level, nipples already erect and and a sexy smile on her face.

This pic I posted previously will give you a idea of how those nipples get your attention.

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She shows me some hips moves, which were dead sexy, then she goes into a shoulder shake, that just makes her breasts dance wildly.

God.

I’m gonna get her some tassels.

God.

Should you call your girlfriend cunt?

Amy told me, the other night while we were cuddling in bed, that she doesn’t like it when I call her cunt when I am fucking her.

WTF?

She was hoping I’d call her something more romantic, like “Sweetie,” or “Angel,” or some such name.

Now, keep in mind I don’t call her “a cunt.” No, she is “Cunt,” an entirely different creature altogether.

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She has since claimed to be teasing me, but what am I to guess from this? I know the humiliation I make her feel sometimes through word and action is very hot, for both of us. So, does she really not like being Cunt, or is this a ploy to make me think she really doesn’t like it, and therefore I’ll use it more, heightening the humiliation factor.

Amy doesn’t play mental games.

She does tease, though.

I just think she doesn’t like being Cunt.

Amy is easily the smartest person I know. I have shifted to a new technique when debating topics with her. Namely, don’t pick any position, because Amy will outflank and outmaneuver any logical position with my old nemesis, accurate facts. I hate accurate facts. And she seems to know them all.

Amy reminds me of a Vulcan. All brains and thinky thinky until pon farr hits, and then she’s an excited mass of sexual passion. Seriously, Amy is very intelligent and articulate, but during sex, when she has been properly aroused, she speaks, but the sounds don’t form proper words. All she can say that you understand is “no,” and “please.”

To me, she has become thoroughly female. Completely, 100% cunt.

And what other word could I use? Vagina? Pussy?

No.

I remember running across the word “queynte,” in my old Chaucer reading days. A form of “cunt,” and also meaning knowledge, or cunning if you like. The word “cunt” seems to have been formed from the feminine syllable “co,” pronounced “coo.” Long recognized as a feminine syllabel, you see it today even in phrases like “hootchie-coo,” for example.

While nothing is certain, it is put forward by some that the word evolved through numerous usages, possibly through the Latin “cunae,” which you will recognize as related to “cuneform,” and is seen in the word ” cunnus,” Latin for “vagina.”

The final syllable is often linked to Scandanavian usages of the word meaning “wife,” or “woman” or related meaning such as “kone,” “kut,” “kuton,” “kunta,” and “kutte.”

The Dutch are given credit, ultimately, for the addition of the “t” to the word, and their influence seemed to have been what resulted in the final shape of the word. To run the risk of over-simplification, the “cu” seems to have evolved from the Proto-Indo-European language, the “n” from the Latin, and the “t” from the Dutch, to find a final amalgamation in the word “cunt,”

It’s first recorded in England as a street name in various redlight districts of cities such as London and Oxford, which had streets named “Gropecuntlane.”

Cunt.

A fine word, with a distinguished pedigree, but currently in disfavor, and out of polite usage.

I, however, am not so polite.

When I am fucking her…

Amy is Cunt.

Amy’s breasts

I write this in bed tonight, in the dark. Amy lies beside me nude, the duvet pulled down to her waist, her soft breasts bare in the pale light and her nipples semi erect. I stroke her breasts very, very lightly, feeling their softness, the firmness of her nipples. Even in her sleep just the slightest touch makes them harden.

I can’t touch them like this; not when she is awake.

The slightest touching of her breasts, let alone her nipples, sends her into immediate arousal. Touch them for more than a few seconds, and she begins to writhe and grind and whimper, so much that in can be hard to even keep contact with her breasts as she lies beside me in the bed, squirming and heating up quickly with desire.

I’ve never seen anything like it.

I swear, her breasts have a direct connection to her clitoris. She has a phenomenal sex drive as it is, and with such sensitive and responsive breasts it’s hard not to keep sending her into a state of eager and compliant arousal.

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Amy compelled to pull her t-shirt up and show her breasts

Amy has learned that she has two kinds of orgasms. The first is an all encompassing clitoral orgasm that leaves her exhausted and satisfied. The second type is less focused on clitoral stimulation, and milder, without relieving the urge for the first type. This second type can come repeatedly, sometimes without even touching her. There have been instances when she has been very aroused, and something I say can send her into this second type of orgasm.

With extended breast play, Amy can go through multiple orgasms. Oral sex especially sends her into one long orgasmic plateau. When aroused, she has no idea how many she has had, nor how long she has been having sex. I have no idea either, as I don’t know when she is having them. I am aware of when she suddenly holds her breath while I am playing with her clitoris, but I don’t know if that exactly corresponds with her minor orgasms.

Her big orgasms are always solo; she doesn’t have multiples of those. When I first started playing with her, I couldn’t identify those either. Amy would just go very still, and hold her breath, not making a sound. She focused entirely on the sensations washing over her, but to an outside observer, it looked like nothing was happening at all.

Lately, during her big orgasms, she has been moaning ever so slightly, and rocking a little from side to side. Still not much demonstration of the powerful sensations she describes rushing over her, but more evident than before, if just barely.

I have teased her about becoming my anal slut. She hates that, and resists the idea very strongly. The other night, I held her in my arms, and ever so slowly, began to separate her ass cheeks, and slowly stimulated her ass hole. Her hips betrayed her arousal, and when I whispered in her ear about fucking her ass, she came twice, the little orgasms that don’t relieve desire.

She is not happy with the implications of that.

Making her starved for orgasms

Amy hadn’t cum for a day or two, and really wanted to cum. The previous night, at some small hour of the morning, I awoke when Amy bit my neck in her sleep. She wanted to cum, she told me. I told her the next night I wanted to put her in chains and explore her body with my mouth, and that I would have her cum then.

We went to bed early that following night, skipping dinner, and neglecting the rest of “The Last Tango in Paris.” Amy was anxious; a woman used to coming daily, and now orgasm starved for – well I don’t remember exactly how long. Long enough, apparently. I reminded her about the chains, which she had thought was just a sleep induced thought of mine from the night before, and offered to go get her chains.

I said “No.”

I didn’t want her doing anything.

I got the chains myself.

I made her lie patiently on the bed, awaiting my return. Then, as I fitted the chains to her body, I explained to her that this was for my pleasure, and she wasn’t to do anything, just to respond in whatever way her body led her. I carefully made certain that she knew I wanted to explore her body for my own interests, and that I wasn’t interested in giving her an orgasm, but that I would play with her as long as I felt like it, and when I had had my fill of exploring her, she would then masturbate for me.

After chaining her, I flipped her over on her belly, and began exploring her back and arms with my mouth and hands. After a while, I moved down to her lower back, and then to her ass. With the chains on her ankles, I couldn’t open her ass cheeks as easily as I would have liked, as her legs could only spread so wide, but I was still able to use my tongue and fingers to test her little asshole in various ways. Her hips began to move rather rhythmically at times.

Gentle whimpers.

A pleasant background music to my own focused interest.

Some time later, I rolled her onto her back, and explored her belly and thighs with my mouth and hands. I left aside her breasts, as I knew she would likely writhe and thrash if I explored them, and I wanted a quieter, more contemplative ambience.

I eventually found my way to her pussy, and played with it until I grew tired of exploring, my lips fully satiated with the taste of Amy’s delicious body, and moved alongside her to twist her nipples as she masturbated herself to a mandated orgasm.

She came fast.

I held her for a while after she came, then later I fucked her, long after her own orgasm had subsided, for the delicious pleasure of just using her body. The chains make entering her a bit awkward, but the different angle of penetration is always welcome, and I came in her with a sharp intensity.

Going in BDSM full-time

I’ve been meaning for a while to talk about how Richard and I got together. I mentioned in an earlier post that we met online, and that we IMed for several months before we finally met in person. Originally we interacted in a very vanilla way, and I thought he was fantastic. He was so smart and funny and articulate.

But stepping back, the first time I saw his avatar (the small picture that is attached to a post), I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. His face – he was magnetic. I had a gut level, primal response to him. I wanted him.

We flirted for a month, showing up in the same threads on a BDSM board, teasing each other, dancing around a more personal connection. Tease, retreat, watch, tease, retreat.

After a month, after being teased to a frenzy, I emailed him. Still very light-hearted, flirtatious. I didn’t expect a response; I felt like a freshman girl making eyes at the quarterback. He was so gorgeous, so self-assured, so charming. Why would he be interested in me?

He replied almost instantly. I answered; he replied quickly again. I told myself that he was a very friendly person, that he was probably emailing many women at the same time, in the same way. I had butterflies in my stomach every time I checked my email.

It heated up quickly. I read through our old emails yesterday, in preparation for writing this, and was surprised at how often we wrote over the first two weeks and how soon we were talking about serious things.

We began talking on the phone after a week or so, then began IMing a couple of weeks later. At least a couple of hours a day, talking to each other and, as I said before, most of that talk pretty vanilla. Any “kink” talk was more…theoretical. A bit about what each of us liked, but more of Richard answering my questions, since I’d never had a D/s relationship.

Then, one day, I was IMing with a friend and Richard wanted my attention. He sent me an email commanding me to perform a specific task. At first I thought he was joking, and I sent him a cyber-kiss back and said I was IMing with my friend. He sent a stern reply, basically asking if I knew what happened to girls who didn’t do what they were told.

Wow. I can’t explain it. It was like the ground shifted under me. We had teased a little before, about chasing and spanking, etc. (He’d sign his emails “catch you soon” – it always gave me a little thrill.) This was different. He’d changed the rules. He was commanding me. He was treating me like a submissive, something noone had ever done before.

I said goodbye to my friend and got right on my task. He was pleased but still stern, because of my delay. I didn’t sleep much that night. I was on fire.

After that, we would still have long discussions and joke and tease, but always there was the underlying current of his dominance and my submission. He began demanding more of me, first pictures and then more of me on cam. It would be hard to overstate how shy about my body I was then and how unlike me it was to agree to this.

He was patient, but persistent. A little more every day, and I never hesitated when he commanded me. It never occurred to me. Occasionally I would get insecure or sad after a session – what is called “sub drop” – but we would talk through it and within a day I was back on track. Richard wrote about this happening recently in an earlier post. Both of us were surprised by how unhesitating I was in my obedience. I had always thought that, if I were ever lucky enough to be in a D/s relationship, I would be one of those bratty, sassy subs, always challenging my dom. No way. I’m too invested in being a good girl, and Richard is way too scary to disobey. Occasionally I fantasize about it, but even when I make noises about disagreeing I back down really fast.

During one email exchange at this time, I had asked Richard some questions about the logistics of us getting together. He replied that he needed to complete some things over the next few weeks and then he was coming to get me, to claim me. It gave me goosebumps. I replied jokingly that I had thought we were going to have a nice vanilla discussion about logistics. His reply: “We are done with vanilla”.

And we were. More than I knew. As I’ve said before, I had really thought of myself as a bedroom submissive, and expected to be my usual dominant, assertive self outside the bedroom. And I am in all other relationships, but not with Richard. I submit to Richard, always and in all ways. He is unquestionably my Master.

And yet. I have never had a partner who was this concerned about my feelings and needs, so willing to share in the work as well as the pleasure of a relationship, so much a partner. I can talk to him for hours, about everything from politics to child rearing to science to literature. We laugh about everything and tease each other unmercifully. Last night he put me in chains and then explored my body with his mouth and hands for two hours. I came again and again. A few nights before he gave me a full body massage. Slavery – I can live with this.

I was going to talk about our first meeting here, but this post is already getting long, so I’ll save that for a later post.