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.

Going to camping … and fucking in the wild

We are leaving first thing in the morning to go camping! Wheee!

I’ve been focusing on loading our gear, planning menus and getting the house ready for us to be gone. Watering plants, setting the thermostat, etc. Plus it has to be clean because if we’re in a car accident and someone has to come into the house to get stuff for us, it has to be clean, right? Otherwise it’s like if you wear dirty underwear and you’re in an accident and they bring you to emergency and the doctors and nurses see your dirty underwear. Ew. The stress alone could kill you.

I’m excited to show Richard this part of the desert that he’s never seen. I’m excited to be in a tent with him for the first time. I’m excited to be alone with him away from cell phones and laptop computers, where nobody from the office can find me.

We’re doing something in the desert that I’m not excited about though. Or I guess I’m excited, but much more nervous than excited. We’re going to do a photoshoot in the desert. So I’m going to be out in the open, naked as a jaybird, posing for Richard.

I love posing for Richard. He makes me feel very beautiful when he’s photographing me; he’s always very complimentary and appreciative. And I can tell when he’s really gotten something good from the look on his face and his tone of voice.

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He’s quite a perfectionist about his photography, so a session can go on for a long time. One time I just wanted one teeny little picture in my bride panties and ohmygosh you’d think I asked for a portrait of the Pope. Every angle, every room of the house, every light level you can think of. (Before I get into trouble, I will admit that this is a bit of an exaggeration. He probably photographed me for around thirty minutes. Still.)

Photographing me puts me into a bit of a submissive trance. He tells me what to do and how to move, or he simply moves me (or parts of me) himself. He’s very calm and quiet, and I get very quiet (a rare event) and passive. I’m sometimes surprised that an hour or more has gone by, and I’ll notice that I’m a bit achy from holding an awkward pose for an extended period.

Afterwards, when he’s downloading the pictures onto the laptop and sorting through them, I’ll curl up at his feet and lean against his leg. He’ll put the laptop down at my level when he wants to show me a picture he’s happy with or ask my opinion about one (he never posts anything that I feel is unattractive or that worries me in any way).

It’s too bad we can’t show our faces. I just looked across the couch at him working on his laptop and he is the most gorgeous creature! Sorry, off topic there.

I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend. Maybe I’ll come back from the desert a confirmed exhibitionist.

And maybe pigs will fly.

At least I know I’ll be having hot sex in a tent for the first time in my life!

OK, back to packing.

Star Trek and BDSM

Did I getcha with the title? No, I’m not talking about James Kirk as submissive male.

Several years ago I saw an episode of Star Trek, Next Generation that stuck in my mind. At the time, I didn’t realize why it had such an impact on me, but after I discovered BDSM and in particular D/s I understood. We had a scorching hot discussion after I first told Richard about it, on IM. I think it helped him understand me better, in those pre-meeting days. I remember not being able to sleep that night because I was so turned on. Recently I Netflixed it so that I could show him. It’s not sexy per se, but the implications of it are very sexy to me.

The episode is titled “The Perfect Mate”. Briefly, the Enterprise is hosting a meeting of rapprochement between two worlds. The ambassador from one world, who is picked up first, brings a precious gift for Alrik, the leader of the other world: a woman. Kamala is an empathic metamorph; a very rare mutant who has the ability to sense what men desire and mold herself to their wishes and interests. Empathic metamorphs imprint on and become the ideal mate of one man.

On the way to pick up Alrik, Kamala is accidentally brought out of stasis (blasted Ferengi!). This moves forward her development so that she is in a stage in which she is sending off strong sexual signals to all men. After a few incidents, she decides to remain in her quarters. Jean-Luc, tough guy that he is, tries to stay away from her although he is fascinated by her as well. However, they are thrown together to work on the ceremony of reconciliation and the attraction is intense. She’s smart, strong and intuitive – everything he finds most attractive in a woman (naturally).

Jean-Luc manages to keep her at arm’s length, but only just, and they pick up Alrik. When Jean-Luc goes to Kamala’s room to bring her to the wedding ceremony, she tells him that she has completed her development prematurely and has imprinted on him, rather than on Alrik. However, her strong sense of duty (in part due to her upbringing, but also due to becoming Jean-Luc’s ideal woman) means that she will marry Alrik, to maintain peace between the worlds. She will not reveal to anyone that she has already imprinted, and points out that she is still empathic, so she will still be able to make him happy.

The worst part: Jean-Luc has met Alrik, who is a homely, superficial twit unworthy of Kamala. Nevertheless, he acts as best man at the wedding and hands over his perfect mate to a lesser man.

*sob*

When Richard and I first began to spend time together online, we were flirtatious but also pretty cool. We were trying to be cautious. So we talked about kink more intellectually than emotionally and we talked about a lot of other things too (as we continue to do). However, Richard gradually moved to claim me and to exert control over me, and our relationship became closer to what it is now.

During one IM, I said “I am for you, Richard” and he asked what I meant. I hadn’t thought of it when I said it, but I remembered that this was what Kamala said when she came out of stasis, thinking that Jean-Luc was Alrik: “I am for you Alrik”. That was eye-opening. As we discussed it, I began to understand what it was I wanted in a relationship and what I wanted to be.

I want to be owned. By one man.

I want to be completely his.

I want to be what he wants me to be, in all ways.

I want that man to be worthy of me, and to bring out the best in me.

I want to be cherished for this, to be seen as a rare and precious gift.

And I am.

How to make her cum really hard

I want to quote part of a comment we received on the “How I became a dominant  man” post.

“I hope that you share some details of how the conversation goes, I find what you both share to be intelligent, caring and informative… This is such a real-life relationship and we appreciate your opening yourselves up the way you both do.”
Jdslove

Amy didn’t like the idea of being disposable.

She thinks it is hot.

She doesn’t like it.

Fair enough.

We talked.

I tried to explain the feeling, the idea that I could afford to not take an opportunity to fuck her, for example, because I own her, and I have all the opportunities I could possibly want to fuck her.

She began to compare it to a woman in a singles bar, who doesn’t need to take every offer for sex, because she can have sex whenever she wants. Amy said when she goes to a bar, the last thing she thinks about is getting sex. Which of course the one thing many guys are totally focused on when they go to a bar (or anywhere).

So she began to understand the idea of passing up sex, because you can have it anytime you want.

But she doesn’t want to be taken for granted.

And she talked about being insecure.

We laughed a bit about this.

What does she need to be secure? We just got married, we are working on having a baby…we talked about a host of things that she could think about to make herself feel secure.

Now, Amy is a logical woman. She knows all this. But emotionally?

I think we lost some little bit of connection this past two weeks with some heavy workloads and family cares. Plus the vasectomy reversal surgery sent our sex life and physical connection into an unusual sort of limbo. And when you lose that connection, the first place it shows up is in insecurity. I doubt it would have shown up as insecurity at all, if not for events in our respective pasts.

We have discussed the ways in which we could have held more easily to our connection. I will be firmer with my direction of Amy when telling her what I want. I tend to be too polite, which can fog my true desires. I haven’t been physically aggressive with her as well – hey I’ve got stitches on my balls! I think we both need the rough play, we are used to it with each other, and when it was suddenly cut out we weren’t prepared for the loss of emotional intensity it engendered.

Insecurity comes and goes. We have been together a short time, physically. Three months. Longer online, but physically together, it’s been a short time and we are still learning about each other, and understanding our needs.

I understand Amy’s better now.

She understands mine better.

The only thing I didn’t like about her post was the “Meet the new Boss – same as the old Boss,” theme.

I’m not like her old Boss. I’m not like anyone she’s ever known. It pissed me off to read it, but I know she knows better.

Insecure or secure, happy or unhappy; I own her ass. And every other fucking inch of her.

Whatever problems we have, we settle between us. We talk. We face it. No retreat.

Nobody’s going anywhere.

No apologies either. I don’t want her feeling bad about being emotional.

I’m fucking emotional.

Amy has to be as utterly Amy as possible. I want to know what she loves, what she hates, what she she hungers for, what makes her shudder. It doesn’t matter a fuck if I don’t like what I hear. I want the real Amy.

I want to love the parts that even Amy doesn’t love about herself.

We’ll continue to deal with insecurity, and whatever else we uncover. I’ll continue to use her, throw her on the bed, fuck her, make her cum, or not let her cum, hurt her, pleasure her, all the things I like doing to her. Including treating her like a disposable fuck.

It’s who I am.

How to fuck more often

In the three months I’ve been (real time) with Richard, I think I’ve had more sex than the rest of my life put together. Three times a day adds up pretty quickly to the same amount of sex in a 5 year, once a month whether we need it or not, kinda marriage.

(OMG! I just busted out my calculator, cuz I’m a geek like that… 12×5=60 times having sex in marriage, 3×90=270 times having sex with Richard! I’ve already had 300% more sex with Richard than I did with my ex! Approximately.)

And that’s just talking about quantity. Quality, well, there’s no comparison. Richard is an incredibly thoughtful and creative lover and of course, finally recognizing my kink and having a kink-compatible lover makes a world of difference to my own interest in sex.

But. As Richard said in an earlier post, we are in a short-term period when he’s not supposed to have penetrative sex. Although two weeks reeeeeally doesn’t feel short-term right now.

He’s been using the time, as he said, to force me to masturbate to orgasm repeatedly. Evil creative genius that he is.

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Amy, unaware she is about to be fucked.

We’ve also cheated already, with the girl-on-top position. Not a favorite of either of ours, and Richard had never cum in that position. Before yesterday. Who would have thought that a guy could be so dominant in the “female superior” position? Here’s how it went.

We’re lying on the bed, taking a “nap”. We’re snuggling and kissing and Richard starts playing with my breasts. After about 30 seconds (really) he says “Get on top of me.”

I start to argue “This probably isn’t a good idea. We’re supposed to wait two weeks, you know.”

“Get on top of me. Now.”

He’s using the no-nonsense voice, so I get on top of him. I thought I’d have trouble, since we’ve only been playing for a minute or so, but the combination of pent-up desire and Richard’s no-nonsense voice has me wet and ready to be entered.

We both groan as he enters me. How could we have gone a week without this? It feels so sweet, so good I can almost taste it.

I move on top of him gingerly, concerned not to hurt him. He reaches up and cups my breasts in his hands. Then he begins to play with my nipples, and it becomes harder for me to control my movements. He is lying still, letting me do the work.

“Keep moving. Don’t slow down.”

His hands don’t leave my nipples for a second, the tugging reaches all the way to my cunt.

I can feel him moving gently with me. I let out another moan and, without noticing, slip a finger into my mouth. I’m sucking hard on it as I’m being fucked from below.

His hands leave my breasts and slide down to my hips. He begins to guide me up and down on his cock.

I’m trying hard to control myself. I really don’t think we should be doing this and I’m worried Richard will get hurt. But it’s getting harder not to buck and claw and bite. I fall forward onto his shoulder and steady myself by biting down.

He’s able to change where his cock hits inside me simply by changing where his hands hold me. He moves from my hips to my waist and then my lower back. Each movement is so intense I can’t stifle a moan or exclamation.

He’s getting harder and he’s fucking me deeper. I grip his shoulders with my fingers. Later, I notice scratch marks there.

After a few minutes his fucking gets more erratic and I can tell he’s close to cumming. His eyes are closed and his breathing is ragged. For a second I worry that he’s going to get hurt, and then I’m lost again in the sensations.

“Oh God. Fuck. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

He thrusts deep and empties his cum into me. It feels…indescribable.

Less than a week to go.

Facefucking like a champ

We are on the couch. Richard flips me onto my back and pulls me over the arm of the couch by my hair. He stands over and behind me, grabs me by the wrists and pulls my arms wide.

“Open your mouth.”

He slides his cock halfway into my mouth. In and out, slowly, a couple of times. Then he slides all the way in and holds there, at the base of my throat. I try to stay calm, but I can’t breathe and after a few seconds I try to pull away.

He pushes in further, pinning me in place with his cock.

I begin to panic and struggle to break free. He holds my wrists tightly and keeps me pinned with his cock.

I buck and finally manage to turn my head to the side. I gasp for breath.

“Don’t fucking fight me.” He grabs both wrists in one hand and slaps me, hard, on both cheeks.

“Pay attention. Are you paying attention?”

“Yes.” I whisper. Boy, am I paying attention. He has my complete attention.

“I’m going to slide my cock down into your throat again. You mustn’t fight me. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Again. He continues to hold my arms wide, slides partway in and out a couple of times, and then all the way in. I struggle to stay calm, but after a few seconds I panic and pull away again.

This time he pulls out quickly and grabs both wrists in one hand. My neck and back are arched over the arm of the chair, and he leans forward and slaps my breasts hard, over and over. I begin to cry, but he doesn’t stop.

“You are going to learn to suck cock like a real slut. I don’t care if I have to hurt you, you’re going to learn how to suck my cock.”

“Are you ready to try again?”

I nod, sniffling, with tears running into my ears.

And again. Slide partway in, slide partway out, then all the way to the base of my throat. His balls rest against the bridge of my nose. I feel claustrophobic, but I figure out I can breathe through my nose. I’m drooling out the sides of my mouth (ew), I’m covered in sweat and tears, but I can breathe.

He stays in my throat for what feels like an eternity, but I don’t panic. Then he slowly pulls out.

“Good girl. You were a good girl. OK, again.”

All the way in. I become very passive and simply focus on breathing. He pulls out again, probably after the same amount of time, but it doesn’t seem so long this time.

“Excellent. Good girl. You’re a good little cocksucking slut, aren’t you?”

I whimper. He knows I hate to be called a slut.

“Are you my little cocksucker? My little cocksucking whore?”

I’m on my back, arched over the arm of the couch, and Richard has a death grip on my wrists. He’s already slapped me (did I mention hard?) on my face and breasts. A smart girl would say “Yes sir” wouldn’t she? But I hate being called a whore even more than I hate being called a slut. So I sniff and turn my head. Genius.

He grabs me by the hair and pulls my head back even further, then slaps me across the face several times. He slaps my breasts until I’m crying again.

Then, without any warning, he shoves his cock down my throat. I struggle, because I didn’t have time to prepare, but this time he’s got me well pinned and I can’t escape. He face fucks me roughly for a minute or two or an hour…I don’t know.

He pulls out of me, then sits down on the couch and pulls me onto his lap. At this point I’ve become very passive and quiet, pretty much the opposite of the smug woman who began the blowjob session a short time ago. I snuggle up against him and he pets me and tells me how proud he is of me and how well I did, that he was very hard on me and I handled it so well.

His praise makes me ridiculously happy.

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.

The naughty schoolgirl fantasy

Amy: but right now bad schoolgirl that needs disciplined
skirt too short
Richard: yes
have to measure it
Amy: and making out with boys behind the building
Richard: no!
Amy: yes!
Richard: bad girl!
Amy: got caught
Richard: come to my office
Amy: *flounces
Richard: stand there!
Amy: *stands insolently
Richard: straighten up young lady *wields yardstick*
Amy: *straightens but gives him a look
*sassy
hehe
Richard: *looks her sternly in the eye*
Amy: *arches eyebrow
Richard: ooOOOooo like that, is it
put out your hand
Amy: *holds out hand
Richard: *smacks with yard stick
Amy: *eyes water but does not flinch
Richard: ooOOOOoo tough girl?
turn around
Amy: *sneers
*turns around
Richard: *gets the cane*
Amy: !!!
Richard: yes
lift your skirt young lady
Amy: *pauses
*lifts skirt slowly

Richard: *lowers her panties*
Amy: *tries not to whimper
Richard: bend over
Amy: *bends over slowly
Richard: *places a hand just above her ass
Amy: *wiggles
Richard: hold still!
Amy: *tries to hold still
*quivers
Richard: *sound of rattan cutting thorugh air*
*smack!!!*
BUZZ!!! (Richard hit the buzzer on Yahoo Messenger at this point. I jumped.)
Amy: *squeaks
rofl
Richard: just for effect 😉
Amy: lol
Richard: *lines up the next strike, placed the cane against her pale skin…
above the previous welt
and then…
Amy: *whimpers
Richard: BUZZ!!!
Amy: oh!
*squeals
Richard: two pretty red lines
*moves the cane up another inch…
*presses it against her smooth skin*
then
BUZZ!!!
Amy: *jumps
*starts to cry
Richard: three red lines
there’ll be no crying, young lady.
There are more tripes for you yet
stripes
(tripe is later, for dinner)
Amy: ew
Richard: LOL
Amy: worse than caning
Richard: ya… ewww
Amy: then spotted dick for desert lol
Richard: *lines up the fourth strike*
Amy: *whimpers
Richard: BUZZ!!!
Amy: *sobs
Richard: *looking very nice, pretty red welts*
you need at least 8 more young lady
Amy: omg no!
no please!
*begging
Richard: unless we can come to an understanding
Amy: *tries to pull away
Richard: no, hold still
or you will earn more
Amy: *whimpers
Richard: such a pretty mouth…….
Amy: *listens
Richard: maybe we can lessen the punishment
Amy: *wary
Richard: or mebbe just continue
*lines up the next strike*
Amy: please don’t
pleasepleaseplease
Richard: BUZZ!!!
Amy: *squeals
no more pleasepleaseplease
*crying
Richard: you think we can find another way to teach you good behavior?
Amy: *sniffs
*listens
Richard: kneel down
Amy: *kneels
Richard: facing me
Amy: *still crying softly
*looks up at him
Richard: are you gonna be a good girl now?
Amy: yes *meekly
Richard: open that pretty sassy mouth
and we’ll show you what happens to mouthy girls
Amy: *hesitant
Richard: *opens it for her*
Amy: *looks up at him with tear filled eyes
Richard: *holds hair with one hand
*unzips*
Amy: omg
*Amy just fainted
Richard: *holds her head firmly
*looks at fainted girl
Amy: (no, me here)
(from hotness)
Richard: *undoes her blouse so she can breathe better
Amy: thank you
Richard: LOl – yes is very hot
wonderfully wicked
Amy: *comes to, looking up at Richard
what happened?
Richard: *pulls her squealing to her knees by her hair*
Amy: please don’t!
I’ll be good!
I promise!
Richard: *turns her head up
Amy: *sobs
Richard: open your mouth
*pulls hair*
*hard*
Amy: *opens mouth reluctantly
Richard: *slaps*
Amy: oh!
Richard: *slaps again*
Amy: *opens
Richard: good
*presses against her mouth*
*inserts*
Amy: *chokes
Richard: *pulls hair hard*
*forces her down on it*
*places cane against her sore ass
Amy: !!!
Richard: you know what to do
lil slut
DO IT!
*very stern*
Amy: *tries to please him
*crying
*takes all of him in her mouth
Richard: *tosses away cane*
*holds her head with both hands*
*guides her*
*guides her movements*
*face fucks*
Amy: *following
Richard: *roughly*
*builds…….*
Amy: *tries to stay upright
Richard: *forces her on to it hard!*
*cums*
Amy: *chokes again
Richard: *no mercy*
Amy: *tries to pull away
Richard: *holds her tight
Amy: *swallows
Richard: *empties
pulls away…
releases her head
Amy: *falls back
Richard: get dressed
Amy: *looks up at him
Richard: fix yourself
Amy: *wipes her mouth
*tries to fix her uniform
Richard: *impatient*
Amy: *crying softly
Richard: stop crying
*stern*
Amy: *gulps down a sob
Richard: lets see how you look
Amy: *stands up shakily
Richard: straighten your blouse
fix your hair
Amy: *straightens
*pats at hair
Richard: better
do we have an understanding?
Amy: yes sir *meekly
*eyes down
Richard: good
go now
be back here next Monday after school
Amy: !!!
Richard: If you know what is good for you
Amy: *looks frightened
*pleading
Richard: You are trying my patience
you do not want to make me angry
Amy: no!
Richard: and you haven’t thanked me
Amy: !!!
thanked you?
Richard: yes
don’t be rude
you deserved 8 more stripes – do you want them now?
Amy: no!
please sir!
I’m sorry!
Richard: I will have none of your insolence
Amy: Thank you for not caning me more
Richard: good
Amy: sir
Richard: now get out – I am done with you
come back monday
Amy: *scurries out quickly
*rubbing her ass
Richard: *closes door*