Idiam

Waiting.

You should have known better than to keep me waiting.  This would be the first time you met me, but you knew a punishment was the first thing you would get.  You let me into your home, and I asked tersely "Bedroom?"  You wordlessly led the way.  I was pleased with your bed, an old four poster.  Another one word command, "Strip."

You could tell I would rather savor watching you undress, caressing you with my eyes before I did so with my fingers, but punishment is a duty of the Dom.  You pulled your top off, unsnapped your bra, and then pushed your shorts and panties down your legs.  You felt self-consious about your weight, but I was looking at you with lust, not disdain, so you relaxed, and began to feel the natural sexiness of a woman.

You turned away from me, shaking your rump playfully, and got an answering grin.  But then I schooled my face, and you realized you wouldn't get out of it that easily.  I pulled the ropes out of my bag, and you looked at me.  Something in you questioned me.

"What if I don't want to?"  You asked.

"What if you don't want to serve me?"

"No, what if I don't want to be tied to the bed."

"You have a safe word..."

"Can you tame me?"  You saw the realization in my eyes.  You wanted to submit, but you wanted me to show you my power, that I was a dom.

I moved closer to you, staring at your nude body, steping one step closer, another, until you felt my shirt touch your nipples.  "How rough do you want it?"  I was smiling, the smile of a carnivore.

to be continued...

"Don't come unglued..."

Per my instructions you are wearing a tube top, a miniskirt, and panties you won't mind losing.  I invite you in, and step next to you, my hands casually wondering over the body you have promised to me.  After they have rubbed your arms, legs, and my fingers have teased your neck and face, I feel your breasts, the nipples hard and poking through your top.  I sqeeze your ass, pulling the cheeks apart.  Then I slip a hand between your legs, feeling the wet fabric of your panties, and pressing them into the heat of your body.

You know I have some new punishment planned, and that you will enjoy it, but you don't want to make it easy.  It is a game we play, you try to do everything I ask, and I seek some tiny flaw to allow me to "punish," you.  Then I put you through whatever experience I have imagined this time, and you come for me, over and over again.  After a night with me, you generally have to sleep in.

I haven't told you to do anything, so you hold still, trying not to break discipline.  I grab the front of your panties, and bunch the fabric, then tug.  The fabric digs into your lips, and rough fabric drags accross your clit.  You gasp, unable to stop your body from responding at least that much.  You see me smile and know that the first part of our game is done.

I slip a finger into your collar and walk forward, you are forced to clumsily follow me.  As I lead you into another room, you see a odd coffee table.  The surface is some sort of granite, like a countertop.  "I had to work a bit finding the right surface, something smooth enough not to dig into your skin, but rough enough that you could get traction."  You don't know what my words mean, but you don't have to, you are just the toy.

I gesture at the table, "Get on it."  You easily climb up and stand on the platform.  You know it is high enough that I can see your panties, but somehow you don't think that is the idea.  "Not like that, on your hands and knees."

That makes more sense, your pussy will be about the right height for me to enter.  You assume the position, putting your knees two feet apart without being prompted.  I walk around in front of you, and you wonder if you are giving me a blowjob first.  I take one of your hands, tenderly, and squirt something on your palm.  Then I place your palm on the table.  The liquid is slippery only for a moment, then it helps your hand stay in place, becomming tacky.  I repeat this with your other hand.  As I lift it, you try to shift your other hand to support your weight, but you can't.  Your hand is glued to the table.

I quickly lift and glue your knees as well, and after a few minutes you are stuck fast.  "The fun thing about super glue, it was originally intended as a replacement for stiches, and it worked well, but it not only stuck skin together, but it stuck to everything else too.  Of course, common nail polish remover..."  I waved a bottle in front of you, "will take it off easily."

That said, I slip your tube top down off your breasts, letting it hang over your belly.  I slide your miniskirt up, revealing your panties.  I show you the scissors, so you won't be scared, and then snip the crotch out of the remaining garment.  My hand enters your sex, and I begin to finger-fuck you, slowly, teasing your skin.  I tug on your outer lips, I move my finger around, touching the front, the side, the back of your tunnel.  I am careful not to touch any part of your body outside of your sex, pointing out to you what part of you is valuable.

Then I stop.  I walk around you, and you see my pants are off, my cock jutting out.  I move it close to your face, and you open your mouth eagerly.  Instead of letting you suck on your favorite popsicle, I slap your cheek lightly with it.  Then I take the finger I had inside you and, making sure you are watching, rub your juices all over my shaft.  I place the head within your range, and you move your head forward, taking me inside your mouth.  I move towards you, so you don't have to streach so much to engulf me. 

At first all you can taste is yourself, and some musk from my skin.  But I have been teasing myself as much as you, and soon you have a warm flood in your mouth.  I freeze, and you continue to lick and suck, knowing that I like it best after I come.  When I pull back, your head follows for a second, and you mewl in protest at your toy being taken away.  But you remember yourself and hold still, waiting for my next move.  You feel my hands on your breasts, I am playing now.  I push them back and forth, tug your nipples towards eachother, and press your breasts into various shapes.  It isn't painful, but it keeps you on the edge of arousal without letting you actually come.  Frustrating.

Then your sight goes away, you can feel your usual blindfold, a sleeping mask you found when I told you what I wanted for you.  You hear me move away, then the door opens.  "Come in," I say, and you shiver.  You never know if I am inviting friends to explore your body, or if I am doing it myself and just teasing you.  The door slams shut, and you hear more footsteps, your hearing heightened by the lack of sight.  But you can't tell if it is one person or two, and you can't tell where the footsteps are. 

A hand lifts your chin, and at the same moment, another hand enters your sex.  There have to be two people in the room.  Your head is held up, as though you are staring into the distance, while the other hand does it's best to make you come.

Then both hands are withdrawn, leaving you empty and alone.  "Go ahead," I say, "She won't mind."  After some shuffling, you feel a presence behind you.  Then a cock slams up into you, entering to the hilt on the first thrust.  Whoever is behind you seems frantic, like a virgin, pounding so quickly that if you were not ready it wouldn't have been pleasureable at all.  But between thinking it is some stranger, and the preparation you have been through, it feels wonderful.  You feel every slam of testicles into your clit.  His tip is just long enough to tease your cirvix.  You feel his body lean over you, and a hand roughly grabs your breast, squeezing and mauling it.  By the time he finally squirts, you have come three times.

You hear the stranger walk around, and know whoever it was is now in front of you.  A finger opens your mouth, and then a wet cock is pushed in.  Again, the person is clumsy, you would choke if he wasn't rapidly shrinking in post-coital recovery.  Obediantly you suck, wondering if your master will show you who you have serviced.  As the man begins to firm again, your blindfold is removed.

"Did I do a good job acting?"  I ask, as you see me in front of you.  You realize that there wasn't another person in the room after all, it was another game.  You nod your head clumsily, not willing to realease my cock from your mouth.  You know if you are good you will get a jet of my seed to wash your own taste from your tongue.  After you accomplish this goal, I use the bottle to free your skin, and you stand, cupping your crotch as our mixed fluids begin to leack out of you.

Once your body recovers, you will have another memory to jill off to, and you will never look at glue the same way again.

Opening the door, you find me naked on the bed, my cock already hard and sticking up.  I told you not to worry about your clothing, but you wanted to show off anyway.  Not that it matters for long.

"Strip," I say, a quiet command.  You pull your cropped T-shirt over your head, showing your braless breasts to me.  You turn away from me, and push your skirt down your legs, keeping your knees straight so that your panty covered sex is displayed between your legs.  Stepping out of the skirt, you repeat the manuver with your panties, hoping to tease me with the view.  You stand up, and turn towards me, but my face is impassive.

"Climb onto the bed, with your cunt right above my cock, and touch yourself."

Another order, and you must obey.  You slimb above me, on your knees, trying to get yourself as close to my lance as you can without disobeying the order.  Your hands start to sweep over your skin, you close your eyes, imagining it is me touching you.  Soon one of your hands is cupping your breast, teasing your nipple, while your other hand reaches between your legs, gathering moisture and spreading it over your sensitive nub.  You rub yourself in circles, making sure to stimulate every milimeter, but trying not to overstimulate yourself.  You want to wait for me to enter you.

"Cum for me, I want your juices to drip on me."  I order, and you almost manage to cum on command.  You shudder as you let go, but you stay upright, not wanting to disappoint me.  Drops from your orgasm dribble down your legs, and you wipe some up, tentatively rubbing them onto my shaft.  As you touch me you feel a pulse.  "Careful, don't waste it, or you won't get to have it."

You are chastised, but also secretly thrilled, your master's will is strong, but you know he desires you, enough that he almost came at your touch.  I almost stutter as I say "Keep going, until I say otherwise, I want to see how many orgasms I can get from you."

Your fingers redouble their efforts, teasing, pulling, stroking, the most sensitive parts of your body.  Released, you climb towards release, explode, and climb again.  Each peak is higher than the last, and comes more quickly.  Still, touching yourself is not as satisfying as having a man inside you.  You are about to beg, but just as you open your mouth...

"You will not speak until I give you permission."

You let out a small moan in frustration, and see a spark of anger in my eyes, you know you will be punished for that later-probably in a way that will soak your panties with lust.  You shut your eyes again, concentrating on the feeling, simultaniously trying to forget that I am there and remembering my smokey gaze.  Your legs are rubber, your arms tired, you don't know how to continue.

"You may beg now."  I say, and words gush out so quickly that all you speak is gibberish, but I know what you are asking.

"Go ahead."

As you lower yourself onto me, you come immediatly, and collapse, your nipples pressing into my muscled chest and being forced back into your soft breasts.  All it takes is a growl and you force yourself back up.  Your legs get a workout as you raise and lower yourself, each stroke causing explosions behind your eyes.  It is too much, but I am your master, and you will get my cum, my gift, no matter what it takes.  Waves of pleasure wash over you, and your mind focuses only on the legs driving your body, and the center of the pleasure, wrapped around a pulsing, hard, hot cock. 

You are noting but a cylinder, a tool for the pleasure of a man, your mind is washed away by the pleasure.  You revel in being just a fucktoy.  Wordless sounds drip from your mouth, and each thrust brings a wet sound from your cum.

Suddenly you feel me driving into you from below, powerful thrusts that mash your clit against your pelvic bone, my tip pounding into your cervix.  Your body is paralized with pleasure, but I have taken over.  Five strokes, ten, each one more pleasurable than the last, until you feel my spurting within you.  My body drops, only the tip of my penis within you, and you settle back onto me, wanting to keep me inside as long as you can.  You feel occasional twiches as I soften, each one bringing pleasure. 

I lift my arms, and gather you into them.  You are laying on me, exausted but satiated.

As you drift off, you wonder what your next punishment will be?

As I enter the library, I can't help but notice you.  You are engrossed in your studies, but are leaning over a study carroll, licking your fingers to turn each page of the textbook open in front of you.  Your skirt is short and flowing, and bent over as you are, I can almost see the beginning of your ass cheeks.

I don't know if I made a sound, or if you just sensed me, but you turn slowly around, see me, and then "drop your book," on the floor in front of me.  You lean over to pick it up, and I don't know whether to look up your skirt or down the button-down white blouse that is unbuttoned almost to your bra.  I know you are teasing me, but I look anyway, obviously.  There is no one else in sight, so I move towards you.  I stare deep into your eyes as I walk past you, daring you to go further.  You pick up your book and take one step sideways, close to my path.

I place my hand on your shoulder, and run it down your back as I walk by.  It is not a sexual touch, but it is possessive, claiming.  You put your book back on your desk and move quickly towards the bathroom.  As you go through the door, you look back and see that I had stopped and watched your progress.  This only increases your desire to enter a stall and relieve your frustration.

Sitting on the cold seat, you yank your clothing out of the way and your fingers expertly tease your flesh, quickly bringing out soft moans that stifle the sound of the door sliding open.  You think of me shoving your skirt up right there in the library, putting you on the study carroll, ripping the crotch out of your panties and taking you right there in public.  You bite your lip to keep quiet, but are glad no one was in the bathroom to detect what you are clearly doing.  Finally you burst, and relax slightly, it wasn't as good as a man's touch, but it tided you over.

Exiting, you move to the mirror, then realize a presence.  I am standing at the door.  "Did you enjoy yourself?"  I ask, and you blush.  "Have you had enough, or do you want more?"

You look down, seeing my member pushing my pants outwards, and lick your lips.  "Please?"  You say softly, and we both know what you are asking.  I walk up to you, turning you back towards the mirror.  One hand reaches under your skirt, pulling your soaked panties down your legs, you lift one leg to free yourself of them.  The other hand begins to open the remaining buttons of your shirt.  Your legs become weak, and you lean over the counter, exactly the way I want.  I kick the insides of your feet lightly, and you spread your legs out as wide as you can while supporting your weight.

One hand is between your legs, teasing your engorged clit while the thumb probes inside of you.  The other hand is lifting your breasts out of your bra, as aroused as you are, even this discomfort is erotic.  I tease and pinch your nipples, as my mouth devours your neck.  My hand leaves your sex, and you whine in frustration, then you hear a zipper.  You lean forward further, trying to spread your legs more, waiting for me.

But I tease you, I place my member below your opening, rubbing your upper thighs and outer lips with my hot lance.  "Please," you say again, and we both know you are truly begging now.

"Very well," I allow, and push inside of you.  Your body spasms almost immediatly, demanding what it has craved for too long.  The animal in you can feel the male inside, and takes over.  I actually hold still while you hump yourself on me, coming again and again.  Finally you stop in exhaustion, and that is when I begin.  I pound into you, deeper and harder than you could do yourself, and your body goes limp.  All that you are is a hole filled with a hard cock, spasming in joy and fullness.  Finally you feel me pulse, feel yourself filled with my cum. 

You turn slowly, "Thank you," you say, a question in your eyes.  You can't ask if I will want you again, can't hope...

I step back, looking up and down your sweaty, dishevelled body, and smile.  I lock your eyes with my gaze, and take one breast in my hand.  "This is mine now, isn't it."  You nod without thinking, your body demanding that you obey.  My hand reaches between your legs, "This is mine too."  Again you nod.  "You are mine, body and soul, you belong to me now."

"Say it," I demand.

"I belong to you," you say, softly, a quaver in your voice.

"Louder!"

"I belong to you!"  You say, and fall to your knees, clutching my legs.

"My penis is covered in your fluids, clean it."

There are towels on the counter, you could easily get up for one, but you know what I want.  You are worried about your own taste, but you find that the taste of my cum is stronger, all your fluids do is dilute it.  As your mouth bobs up and down on me, you realize how wonderful it is to have an owner, to know that you will be used any time your owner desires, in whatever way he desires.  You no longer have to worry about being "a good girl," or whether your kinks are "dirty," because you are not in charge.  Anything he wants, he will get, and if he asks your turn ons, you have to tell him, all of them, even the dirtiest darkest desires.

You write your phone number and address on a scrap of paper for him before he leaves.  You know he will visit you at home soon, and you will be waiting. 

We arrive at the Ren faire just on time-right before they close.  The girl who takes our money looks at us strangely, but shrugs.  I walk you through the grass, moving against the current of departing guests, as the booth owners close up shop, moving determinedly towards the raised area at the back.  Some of the performers are setting up tents for the night, but as this is the last day, many are already going home.

You are, as I demanded, wearing a typical ren faire outfit, shammy under a bodice and skirt.  I occasionally touch your buttocks, possesivly rather than eroticly, and wait for the last of the crowd to dissipate.  Once we are reasonably alone, I lead you to the stocks.  All I have to do is gesture and raise the bar, and you place your neck and arms in the holes.  I lower the bar, but don't bother to lock it, either you will stay in place for me, or you won't.

Once you are "secured," I reach under you and free your breasts from your top, letting them dangle freely.  I notice a pair of girls in garb looking at us strangely, and so I tell you to wave.  You do so, blushing fiercely.  They seem to giggle, and while they don't come closer, they also don't leave.

Moving around behind you, I raise your skirt onto your back, then slowly lower your black panties down your legs.  Once I reach your ankles, I lift first one, then the other foot, removing your protection.   I walk back in front of you, then get out your blindfold, and carefully block your vision.  I consider using your panties as a gag, but decide not to-this time.

Again I circle around you, though you can't tell.  I put my hand on your thigh, and you flinch.  I put my other hand on your other leg, and apply just enough pressure that you can tell I want your legs further apart.  Reluctantly, you comply, opening yourself to anyone who wants to watch.  When I am satisfied that you are fully exposed and (at least apparently) helpless, I get up and move away.  The two girls are watching, and I wink at them.

I will never tell you whether the hands you felt later, the ones that squeezed your breasts, teased your nipples, and explored between your legs belonged to me, or to the two girls, or to some random stranger who saw you helpless and open.  But an hour after we arrived I said "It's time for me to take her home, get out of sight."  When I removed the blindfold you couldn't see anyone else in the clearing.  I lifted the stock, and you stood, your skirt sliding over your buttocks.  I admired your breasts, then cupped both of them in my hands, before pulling your clothing back up.  Other than your red face and the smell of your orgasms, no one would be able to tell you were anything other than another guest.