18th May 2011
I can hear Him moving around the room, steady deliberate movements as if I am not even there. The darkness of the blindfold leaves me only with my hearing to anticipate what he will do. The sliding of a drawer, wood against wood, tells me he is looking for a toy, but what of me, I am His toy. Laying on the bed, wrists and ankles cuffed and clipped to the 4 corners, exposed and vulnerable and trembling…..with a fearful lust.
The slightest of touches on my back makes me shiver, the lightest of tickles from something I can’t identify. A grumbling of frustration escapes my lips. I hate not being able to see, it robs me of my ability to anticipate. Many times before I have pulled the blindfold from my eyes in sheer desperation to see, which is why I find myself bound like this now, my previous behaviour having sealed my fate this time.
The whip announces its impending arrival with that distinctive swish as it cuts through the air. I have but a moment to ready myself for its touch but nothing can ever make me ready for this. It ends its journey on my naked flesh and I know immediately that he has held back, rather than its usual bite this first touch is more of a light nip, a teaser. Again, that tickled touch as he allows the frayed end to linger over my arse.
The next time is quick, one moment that fleeting tickle then the strike, my senses are starting to jumble and I have lost the sound of the whip, or maybe it is my groaning cries that drown it out. Over and over the braided fabric bites at my skin leaving its distinctive slice marks which rise immediately as angry red welts in contrast to the rest of my smooth white skin.
My breathing is laboured, as I fight against the bonds that hold me, tugging and pulling but I am trapped. He knows that the fight is part of my dance within this game; He knows that if I really want it to stop then I know just how to make that happen and so He continues, driving me on into that place of sense and nerves, actions and reactions without control.
The feel of His weight on the end of the bed surprises me into silence, so lost in the moment I have not even realised that He has stopped. As I feel His knees between my thighs I arch my back and offer myself to Him like the hungry little slut He makes me. I want to feel Him inside me now, I need to feel that, my pussy is aching for His cock and the release I know it will bring me. I growl with need as he enters me, trying desperately to push back onto him, wanting more and more but as he curls His body over mine, the stinging heat of my arse is set alight all over again.
With one hand firmly around my neck he holds me as I fight and thrash beneath him, the pressure inside me building, the boundaries of pleasure and pain colliding until I am begging Him to let me cum, pleading for His words of permission and as I hear them growled into my ear I feel His cock erupt within me and we are truly together, in this moment, the Dom and the sub, bound to each other in perfection.
He tells me I will ask Him for the whip one day, but I deny that. I hate the whip the moment it touches me I want it to stop, yet afterwards I will stare at the marks it leaves on me, lovingly caressing them with my fingertips as I relive the moment over and over. He says he will get me there, to the sub who can admit what it is she currently secretly craves. Time will tell I guess…..
Ps… The writing prompt for Wank Wednesday this week is #slice and as per usual make sure you check out BOTH Wank and Wanton Wednesday pages for further delights.