"TREATMENTS"
by Sir John 008
(circa 2005 and on)
*This is the short, light, introductory, opening part of a much longer, first attempt to write 'classical erotica".
* It revolves around "the approach, style, care, respect, depth and control" of a masculine, true Dominant and gentleman with a younger, feminine, submissive novice.
* Due to space limits on CM, only the reasonable, mentally. emotionally and physically 'light' portion, the first 11 of 70+ pages, appears.
* Because it is quasi-autobiographical, it reveals much of the depth and experience of its writer and a true Dominant's reading of a submissive's 'unspokens' - the prime differences between wannabees and the real thing.
* If you enjoy it, more of the story is available. Simply ask.
You are now being invited to relax, read and enjoy...
For some reason, all day long, Sandra had been as nervous as a leaf. Tonight was to be 'the night'.
A week earlier, she had read a personal posting on a 'personal' website and found it intriguing. It had spoken of a "tall, understanding, handsome, intellectual, monogamous, compassionate, yet 'strict', "gentleman" who was seeking a feminine, fit, “lady“, for “shared escape, release and relief”.
The poster had added “NSA" (no strings attached) with a notation "if possible".
Much earlier, Sandra had realized and recognized her submissiveness while reading a paperback.
Almost two years earlier, while turning a mattress, Sandra had discovered a book. It had been hidden between the bedroom's mattress and box spring by her husband. It could have been there for years.
While it had very extreme deions of "the forbidden", nevertheless, the basic theme of the novel had fueled her mind with a burning desire to experience a much modified version of the main character's plight.
Even though Sandra's relationship had lasted the test of time, her sexual life had faded to a mere 'once-in-a-while'. It had dwindled to the point that she had begun faking orgasms. The entire focus in 'making love' had become very one-sided.
No longer did Sandra enjoy the attention in foreplay that had been at the centre of their once nightly and weekend excursions. There was none. His feather-touches, cuddling, holding, kissing and petting were memories of the past.
Sandra felt like their making love, four or five times a month, had become 'a duty'. She was required to immediately satisfy her man whenever he had become excited and erect. This had become a cold, missionary insertion, rapid movement, climax and a rolling over with his back to her. She was beginning to feel like nothing more that a receptacle where he would deposit his sperm.
Since reading and re-reading the book several times, Sandra had hinted and finally, outwardly, asked her man to be dominant with her in the bedroom. The next time, before his systematic "insertion", he had warmed her buns with his hand. But, it was in no way 'sensuous' or 'erotic' and after that one time, it never happened again. He had not got the message or didn't care as he returned to his selfish "wham, bam, thank you mam" exercise.
When alone in their home, her mind would wander and her hand would reach between the beds mattress to extract 'the book'. She would fall back on the bed's top, turn to her favourite parts of the book while her other hand's fingers teased her clitoris. It never took long before she was panting with erotic excitement from her only means of stimulation found between the covers of Pauline Réage's "Story of O".
With book dropped, growing from a rapid fluttering of her fingers over the clitoris, and squeezing of her hardened nipples, Sandra would transfer herself into the character "O".
Sandra would fantasize, becoming the tightly-corseted young model, tied to a column under the scourge of a merciless whip. Some of its leather lashes would be directed at and be over-stimulating her responsive clitoris. Such pain would be transformed into sheer pleasure in a strange way that she did not wish to question or understand. Simply, the erotic excitement and feeling was that good.
Sandra would reach wondrous, but empty orgasms. But these repeated acts had become increasingly shallow. Repeated stimulations over 11-months just didn’t do it anymore. Sandra was alone, a prisoner, closeted in her sexual secret.
The word "strict", at the opening of the gentleman's posting, had grabbed Sandra’s attention. She had continued to read about the “shared escape, release and relief" that she was missing and had never had. She could not resist. She was now ready to take the necessary action. This entry held promise. It had no pictures of men’s private parts. It was a mature approach to solving her dilemma.
Sandra e-mailed her reply.
Following a series of ‘responsive’ e-mails, clandestine telephone conversations had occurred. His voice was deep, masculine and spoke of the fantasies that Sandra was living with her book.
He had referred to slow, gentle foreplay and the respecting of her limits, yet constantly advancing her tolerances to new heights in orgasmic pleasure. This would be accomplished through a progressive series of what he referred to as 'treatments'.
Once he had mentioned that, in effect, Sandra would be controlling her own “treatments” as he, sensitively, would be taking direction from her breaths, sounds, words, reactions and erotic responses.
On the other end of the telephone, inevitably, Sandra's fingers would begin to flicker over and dip into her seat of pleasure. His voice would direct and guide her. He had become her sexual master by delivering her a deep, compassionate understanding of her state of erotic thought.
He had said that the largest sexual organ of a person lies between their ears. He was offering his probing, understanding and respecting of Sandra's thought and emotional processes in order to maximize her orgasmic release.
Then, they had met in a restaurant-bar. When Sandra saw the striking stature and the eyes of her intimate master, she had melted and became wet. Here was the man who would be her director and salvation. He had read and recognized her condition and had kept conversation to small talk, a light, happy, laughing 'getting to 'know you' event. There had been no mention of the "treatments" that she sought, as a matter of fact; there had been no references to their private secret that had brought them together.
The gentleman turned out to be an extraordinary open, extrovert and a courteous, old-fashioned, mannerly "gentleman", something she had never experienced before. Oh yes, he was much older than her, but she had fantasized about how he could share with her in bringing out to actual ‘live’ her constantly reoccurring and ‘forbidden’ daydreams.
Sandra’s Roman Catholic background had instilled the concept of doing penance for the sins of her thoughts by a parish priest. Would committing herself to the manifestations of actually ‘living’ her new fantasies, with the potential of pain involved, equalize itself with the forbidden pleasures that she was so ready to experience?
Sandra had looked around the room at others who knew nothing of their shared, dark, intimate secrets, men attempting to pick up women and visa versa. They shared nothing on the scale that she did at this first meeting with her chosen gentleman who had shared so much of her being and given her so much erotic pleasure.
With the prior agreement that no introduction to "treatments" would occur that evening, he had paid the bill and they had parted the premises. Sandra wished that the agreement had not been made. She was ready to be taken in his arms, kissed and fondled in preparation for her celebrating of the deep submissive side of her femininity. But, that was not to be. With a time and day set for their next face-to-face encounter and a kiss on the hand, they departed in separate directions. Even the kiss had sent a small shiver of anticipation down her spine with the knowledge of what was to be unwrapped between both of them.
She had gained trust, admiration and respect for this 'gentleman from a Craig list posting'.
Sandra had arrived to an empty home. Sandra had rushed to 'the book' and relieved herself of her pent-up, sexual frustrations. While doing so, she had visualized replacing all of its male character(s) with her single, new gentleman. This had reignited the seething fire in her loins that had been missing for many months. She dealt with it. Finally, with her increased breathing subsiding, she lay there totally drained, empty.
Her partner was out on one of his "regular nights with the guys". He would likely arrive home is an intoxicated condition long after she had retired to bed and into a deep sleep. He would get a beer, turn on the t-v and fall asleep on the couch. It was always the same, monotonously thing.
That night was different. After she had replaced the book under the mattress, Sandra's mind was racing with expectations of living in a new world of direction, control and submission, preventing her comfort in sleep.
The night was also different because, when the life-partner man arrived, he went directly to their bedroom, stripped and laid down beside her with his boozy breath. Sandra feigned sleep.
Within minutes, he had taken her hand and led it to his soft, limp penis which rose with each of his heart beats. She pretended to awake from a groggy sleep.
However, as usual, once erect, he had nudged Sandra over on her back, mounted her, did his rapid movements, ejaculated, fell down beside her, turned over and fell to sleep. As usual, it was all done without a word, a hug, a tender touch or passionate kiss.
That night, there had been a variation. Sandra's clitoris had been previously been well worked over by her hand in a fantasy of her new gentleman and his promise of starting a series of ‘treatments’ with her.
That night, for the first time, Sandra had strongly wished to repulse the invasion of her life-partner's hard organ into her body, but that may have caused suspicion. After all, she had never done that before over their entire, long, now agonizing relationship. So, once again, she became a measly recipical for his releasing of seed. She had become nothing but a 'living', sperm bank.
Now, it was three long days later.
Tonight had been planned to be 'the night' for Sandra's first 'treatment' in establishing, then encouraging a systematic stretching of her sexual limits and barriers through the evenings and further 'treatments'. Each one would be increasing her sexual tolerances. Each would be swelling her pleasures through the prolonging of the periods of her orgasms while heightening the levels of their impacts.
In the confines of his home, would the 'gentleman' be what she had sought and envisaged when sending him her initial, contact e-mail?
He had more than met Sandra's standards for 'a lover' that she had never had. He seemed like 'a dream' to serve her most intimate of needs and desires. He understood her in a way that nobody else did. He was overly discreet in his conduct.
Sandra was starting to fall for him, but responsibly recognized her personal consequences if that should happen. It was a guarantee of 'No Strings Attached" in the posting, wasn't it?.
Sandra had put much preparation into this first 'treatment'. She had douched, shaved, thoroughly bathed, applied the best of her make-up, curled her hair and scented herself with the most expensive of her perfumes.
Sandra had put on her new lacy, virgin-white bra and hooked a unique, black garter belt around her waist that she had purchased for the occasion.
Sitting on the side of the bed, Sandra slipped her feet into her new, black nylon stockings. Standing, she drew them up her legs and fastened them to the belt’s eight, distinctive garters that flared over her hips. While shopping for this evening, she had discovered this expensive, one-of-a-kind item and purchased it solely for his visual enjoyment.
Next, came her sheer, red panties which were pulled up her nylon-clad legs, spreading at her hips with its elastic finally settled at her waist.
Sandra stood back.
The bedroom's long mirror reflected the image of a lady who was about to surrender herself to living her fantasies in submission. Sandra stared at the curves of her body that had been accentuated with her latest undergarments. She wanted to be the most feminine picture of a woman that he would ever encounter.
With a racing heart, Sandra knocked on the door. The door opened with his bright, smiling face appearing.
"Welcome, Sandra. Allow me to take your coat. Let's sit down. People should never be a rush in entering any relationship, especially one like ours.”
His eyes looked through Sandra, "We have the entire evening. Would you like a drink?"
Under her skirt, she felt naked, open, exposed and vulnerable. She felt like a self-condemned person sentenced to the gallows, helpless, defenseless, yet excited. She felt an unexpected wetness between her legs..
"Oh", Sandra thought, "his knowledge and experience in these matters is showing. It is wonderful that I found him. At last, I can live my fantasies with this man who I can trust with everything. I want him to guide me."
Earlier, Sandra had been she picturing herself, in doubt and with a wisp of fear over her initial ‘treatment’. The gentleman had disarmed all such fears in her mind. She and he both knew what was planned to evolve, her first ’treatment’, but that was for later.
She chose the bluish-black, soft leather chair. Bringing in her white wine, he sat on its counterpart, an extra-long, matching lush-leather chesterfield. They spoke about light things. They laughed at the absurdities of life, of current conditions as they relaxed and got to further know and understand each other, their backgrounds, their careers.
Meanwhile, their eyes were frozen on each other. Sandra’s communicated approval and anticipation. His spoke with compassion and understanding.
After refilling her glass and returning to the living room, he said “please come over here. I want to speak softly to you. Sandra stood up, walked around the coffee table, and placed herself beside this most remarkable man.
“Sandra, do you remember why you are here?”
“Yes, I do, Sir.”
He uttered a ‘wondErful’ as he gently place his hand on her left shoulder.
She turned her head to see these beautiful, penetrating eyes of her ‘to-be’ master.
“Sandra, bend your head back, please.”
“Yes, Sir”, said Sandra as she positioned herself.
His arm pulled her towards him. His lips lightly touched hers.
“Oooo” was Sandra’s overwhelmed response as he withdrew.
Again, he brought his lips to hers. This time his tongue entered with slow, pulsating motions, much like her dream of the way that an erect penis should properly enter her vagina, gently.
Upon withdrawing, Sandra responded with a “mmmm, you are so wonderful.”
This time his arm became stronger in controlling her upper body, pulling her closer.
Lips glued, she darted her tongue against his active, invading member. They played back and forth as his embrace tightened and his other hand gently cupped the left-side content of her bra.
With rapid breathing, Sandra begged, “Please, Sir. Start my ‘treatment’.”
“You don’t understand, my sweet, young darling. It has already begun. I began when I replied to your first email."
He paused, then, in a soft, gentle yet firm voice, "to the bedroom, please.”
He led her down the hall to the room and positioned her, standing beside the bed.
Sandra noted that a series of instruments had been pre-placed on his bedroom bureau. She had only previously dreamed about Amongst them were a ball-gag, chained and weighted nipple clamps, a long, thick dildo, a glistening, black leather strap, a long, thick, leather flogger, a series of leather binding belts and leather hand-cuffs with attached chains.
Standing against the wall were two, adjustable spreader bars with 'securing belts' placed at their ends.
Were they intentionally placed there only for her eyes and the further conditioning of her mind or did he intent to use any or all of them on her this evening?
Although Sandra felt that she was ready and yearned to experience each of them with her new, trusted gentleman, she doubted if they would be shared with her tonight. He had spoken of a 'slow graduation through levels of celebrating her femininity'. It would take time and his focus to advance her to appreciating the full, exquisite, explosive sensations that each one would evoke. He, and only he, would decide at what stage these implements would be introduced as part of Sandra's training/treatment programme.
He sat on its edge, reaching up to unbutton her blouse as she shivered as the garment was removed to the cool evening air.
“Turn, please”.
“Yes, Sir”.
Her skirt’s back button was opened and the zipper pulled.
“Turn, please”.
“Yes, Sir”.
Looking deeply into her eyes, he slowly lowered the material unveiling Sandra's bra, panties, eight garters and stocking tops.
“Oh, Sir”, Sandra responded as the skirt slowly dropped down her legs to her feet.
“Step, please”.
“Yes, Sir”, Sandra uttered as she stepped out of the material and her black heels. Thinking about what had been mutually agreed to come had her openly flowing with vaginal lubricant. She was sure that the soaked front of her panties would be revealing her eagerness to his beautiful eyes.
From her arms, his two hands slid down the sides of Sandra's body, over her rib cage to her waist. With eyes closed, she had thrown her head back and upward to the ceiling with several, sensuous "Ohhhhhs."
With her blond hair was loosely hanging away from her shoulders, she was savouring every touch from her new lover, touches that she had never felt before.
Reaching Sandra's waist, the hands on his powerful arms squeezed inward accentuating this curve in her figure, further emphasizing her hips.
"Oh, oh, oh" Sandra deliriously responded. She felt more feminine than she had ever felt over her entire life.
Sandra felt his hands release her waist and, grasping the elastic band of her panty's top, very slowly and methodically sliding it down over her hip bones, past the long bands of her garters, their clasps, ending at her ankles.
With her unquestioned submission, Sandra had become the subservient, compliant "O" of her hidden book.
"Turn sideways, please."
Sandra brought her head down to look into his serious eyes with an whispered "Oh, yeth, Sir"
His hands had repositioned themselves in a feather-like move without losing contact with the nerve endings of Sandra’s skin. One had been placed at the lower portion of her back, the other on the lower part of her tummy. Again, an inward compression occurred and was held as she tilted her pubic bone and vagina up and forward.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh.”
Instinctively, Sandra dizzily adjusted her footing and spread her nylon-clad legs in anticipation of his touch. She waited, although she was relishing this new sensation of intimate, womanly exposure.
She knew that he was reading and recording every reaction in her first training/treatment session. She prayed that he would later prioritize this particular portion of her programme. The feeling was that good.
“Please, Sir, oh please, please touch me” she humbly begged in increased breathing while holding her stance. Her request was answered as she was forced to adjust her weight when his hands moved to her front. One was pushing a much reduced compression. Two fingers from the other slowly traced down to her supersensitive clitoris where his touch had her mercilessly hanging at the edge of an orgasm.
He was plucking her as a concert maestro would with each taunted string of a finely-tuned violin. He was playing her in a symphony of new pleasures. He was in control of her responses, directing, guiding and controlling them in newly-discovered worlds of pure sensation.
He gently feathered Sandra's clitoral bud, aware that one ‘wrong touch’ could dangerously over-stimulate and, while standing spread-eagled before him, send her into immediate orgasm.
From her breathing and sounds he understood the mental fury and level of her torturous condition that was striving for an immediate, climatic release. But, this had to be denied. The timing was not ready for this to happen. She had to be cooled and slowed down.
“Now, Sandra, lie down, please.”
“Yes, Sir”, as Sandra laid down on the surface of crisp sheets.
Again, his lips gently met hers.
“Mmmmm” was Sandra’s murmur as his tongue quickly darted in and out, then stop, then start again in short stabs mimicking intercourse in her another opening.
She had found her ‘escape’… her fantasy.
The gentleman was not a sadistic character from the “O” book like “Sir Stephen” or O’s weak lover, “Rene”. This ‘dream person’ was real. His cultured approach to her dark, hidden secrets and needs had neutralized her from any further concerns. She was his and wanted him to proceed with the ‘training’ of her through ‘treatments’.
He tenderly touched her left nipple. Sandra felt her wetness increase. He took hold of it and rolled it between his fingers. Immediate shocks ran from her breast to clitoris as her fluids continued to flow between her legs. Then, he masterfully squeezed her erecting nipple while his other hand while beginning to titillate her right one.
Although he was obviously not the first man to do this, Sandra managed to sigh, “Oh, oh, Sir, you are so good in what you are doing to me. I’m yours, Sir. Please don’t stop. I want you and anything you wish to do with me”
He whispered, “Sandra, we have only just begun your treatment, sweetheart. We still have a long road to travel in your treatments, my little girl.”
Through her erratic breathing, Sandra managed to respond with an extremely feminine, "Yeth. But Sir, please don't ever stop."
On her right breast, fingers from his two hands were placed on the aureole at the base of Sandra’s nipple. One was on each side the man masterfully pushed down and separated hard, making the erect flesh ever more prominent. With Sandra's eyes closed and mouth open, her submissive feelings ever more exposed, his mouth came forward to suck the teat hard and drive her upward into new unexplored levels.
Again, his technique had chills traveling to Sandra's clitoris.
He moved back to her mouth with a brief, light, tender kiss.
Looking into her tearful eyes with his pleasant face, with his hand placed over her pubic area, he said “Sandra, spread legs, please”.
Sandra responded immediately with a “yes, Master” and the widening of her legs.
Without direction, the term “Master” had replaced “Sir”. This was noted. In the room, Sandra had left any semblance of her outside world and delivered all of herself to the gentleman for the guidance that she had sought to turn her fantasies into realities.
Their lips had met and his tongue had entered her hollow mouth. Her nostrils moved while searching for any available air. Meanwhile, fingers had located her semi-hooded clitoris, where they pushed down isolating and protruding it’s delicate centre. “Mmmmm. Mmmmm”.
Two fingers started to rub, slow and gently at first, but with Sandra’s increasing breathing, harder, faster and more demanding. Unconsciously, she began to move her torso in rhythm with this application. “Mmm, mmm, mmm” she uttered into his mouth still glued to hers.
Again, Sandra’s emotional flood was building. Only a physical discharge could relieve its overflowing.
He took his hand and gently dipped two fingers into her vagina. His thumb had replaced them in keeping the tension up through the rubbing of her clitoris. As he had previously surmised, she was soaking, no ‘dripping’ with fluid overflowing down her crotch. A third finger was introduced. With the others, in paced back and forth motions, it was pushed deeper.
When the three fingers, firmly lodged at their fullest, they slowly opened, pressing in pulsations against the organ’s walls. The result was immediate. Sandra’s head began to writhe from side to side in both sensation and frustration. He head managed to keep with her, staying on her lips while his tongue sped up its rhythm in unison with the actions of his three vaginal fingers and clitoral thumb.
“Mmmfff, mmmmmfffff, mmfff ” with beads of sweat coming to Sandra’s skin
He stopped the kiss and motion.
“Oh, oo, oo, I, I, I’m going to cum”, Sandra screamed as she frantically moved her torso up and down in rhythm with a non-existent penis. “Oh, touch me, touch me. Oooo, oooo, help me, Master. Cum, cum. Oh, please. Please.", she begged.
He answered with a strong, silent engulfing hug that held Sandra’s writhing frame against his as the ferocity of her fires of sexual passion began to subside.
“I know what you are going through but, not yet, Sandra” he said quietly. “Denial is integral part of your training.”
Sandra’s rapid breathing was slowing. Composure was being regained.
“Why, why not let me cum, Sir?”
“You will understand why and appreciate your rewards when you are given them, Sandra” he said between several, tender, light kisses.
He took his arms from around her and sat up.
“Bring your knees up and spread you legs as wide open as possible, please.”
He place a folded pillow beneath Sandra, raising her hips and stretching the rear garters' tugs on her nylons. Positioning himself between her legs, reaching under her, he lowered himself to bring his tongue, softly, to her clitoris.
Instantly, Sandra had returned to her erotic state of delirium.
As he sucked, sometimes gently pulling Sandra’s ever-engorging bud between his teeth, her derrière began short shunts forward pushing and further opening the centre of her pleasure to his tantalizing mouth. In one instantaneous transfer from his tongue brought his right hand up over her clitoris. It continued to titillate and tease as he looked deeply into her expressive eyes and into her emotional state.
“Do you fully trust me, Sandra?”
“Oh, oh, yes, yes, I do, Sir. I am you, you, you, yours. Help me, please, please” Sandra said in between her quick breaths as beads of sweat flowed to her skin’s surface.
With a nod, he placed the ball of his right hand above Sandra’s pubic bone and gently, but firmly pushed it down, stretching and pulling her vagina’s lips upward. His left hand gave her the light wisp of a slap across her lips and clitoris.
“Ooooo, please, Sir. Ooooo, more, more, help me, please, Sir”
“Sandra, present, please” made her stretch her legs and push he groin up.
"Yeth"?
Sandra waited frozen in a strange expectation of when it would land.
An unexpected second, firmer smack made Sandra jerk and automatically pull back as she pushed down with an ‘Eee-ooo’. A pleasurable sting traveled throughout her body. Her breathes became shorter.
“Sandra, present, please”
She slowly brought herself forward only to receive the sting of a stronger, unexpected third spank. The shock from the irregular timing and strike excited her further. Again, she involuntarily withdrew even though this new, all-consuming type of pleasure blanketed over any semblance of pain in its application.
“Sandra, present, please”
“Harder, harder, and more please, Master” as Sandra repositioned herself to be more vulnerably open to his designs.
An immediate fourth strike was firm and hard and made Sandra shutter on the edge of her long-sought orgasm. Every nerve ending in her body was locked in a state of shock and anticipation.
“Sandra, present, please” he said, knowing that the time had finally come for her release and that she had been properly prepared, both mentally and physically, to experience and endure it.
With eyes closed, Sandra positioned and prepared herself to receive the slap with her pent-up floodgates on the verge of exploding. She held her breath. Her body went tight. She agonized, waiting for it. While one hand parted her vaginal lips, stretching, pulling and holding them upward against her pubic bone, the other hand and arm took aim and went up.
Finally the hand hit with a firm and violent, fifth slap.
This was too much.
Sandra was sent over the top as a massive, chilling, crashing jolt consumed her mind and body. Her jaw was tightened. Her brain was frying. Her skin was sweating. Through a gap in her clenched teeth, she let out a deep, extended “aw, aw, aaaaaargggggggghhhhhhhh” as she released in long, full orgasm that penetrated her from top to bottom. She'd been transported to paradise.
She automatically lashed out, pushing her pubic area up in a hopeless search for the harshness of her new, gratifying companion, his hand.
Sandra froze and stopped breathing as the intensity of the shock raced through all nerve endings. Sandra was held by the wave's all consuming intensity.
The spank had been direct, hard, expertly-delivered and merciless. Sandra knew that it could have not have been conveyed in any other way and that she could not have lived without it being so perfectly delivered.
Immediately, the shock of the wave was prolonged with the blurring application of three, more rapid, forceful strokes to Sandra’s wanting, gapping, and pubic region. Then, fingers brushed and kneaded her clitoris and gently feathered along her reddened, extended, inner lips.
For twelve, intense, mind-blowing seconds, Sandra was suspended, not breathing, a paralyzed prisoner and riveted slave to her quake’s overwhelming magnitude of pleasure for what seemed to be an eternity.
Sandra finally inhaled deeply.
Instantly, with two more, rapid, firmly-directed spanks, a second excruciating wave had hit Sandra. It was both frenzied and rapturous. She bucked, shivered and shaked meeting this with another long ”aargggghhhh”. Her head twitched rapidly, respecting the powerful energy of this all-encompassing sensation. She was ‘beside herself’ in orgasmic release. Again, she had froze in silence savouring the passionate force of her pleasure front as it's current seared through her.
Coming out the other end, completely exhaled, Sandra took a third breath only to be met again with the demands of his punishing hand of pleasure.
Over the top a third time, an ”aargggghhhh”, then frozen stillness as the gravity of bolt after bolt in a series of fast after-shocks pinged and quivered through her frame.
He quickly moved up beside Sandra, holding her protectively-tight in his arms. His loving hold on her had him sharing in her convulsions and shakings. He had placed his leg over her lower belly.
Instinctively, Sandra squeezed her thighs together in an effort to contain these beautiful, new ecstasies.
The starts of fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh intoxicating waves were announced were proceeded by fast, short breaths, then, it would crash down upon Sandra, causing a chain of successive “oooooo-oooo’s”. She was thrashing through a series of deep, vaginal orgasms. She was pushing her tummy out to capture the sensations of each, erotic wave against the weight of his well-placed thigh.
Sandra was pushing her tummy out, while he was restricting it, increasing the depth of her hyper releases. Having something to press against in her convulsions, was amplifying this unbelievable, sexually and emotional experience.
Sandra felt sheltered by his strong, parental arms as she and he shared these, successive spikes of sensuous response.
While the minute or two of unrelenting barbs and quivers continued, Sandra’s hands had slid down to find and wrap itself around a fully-extended, rock-hard penis. Obviously, her “Master” was sharing in the product of his work. For her dear life itself, she held on to this majestic appendage through her seemingly endless flow of exquisite after-shocks. Eventually, they lessened, becoming more broadly spaced out twitches and then subsided altogether.
The promised “release and relief” in his website posting had been delivered. Sandra was still, physically and mentally drained.
Sandra could hear his calm, slow breathing in her ear. Nothing was being said. All was being understood. She was living her fantasy with the only man in the world who had ever cared and taken the time to understand and nurture her hidden secrets.
Sandra understood and appreciated the reason why he had twice denied her releases tand held her back from orgasms.
After Sandra had experienced the last quiver, all had become silent except for the lonely ‘tick’ of the living room clock. Her breathes had become intermittent.
A soft kiss was placed on the cold surface sweat of her cheek as a draft from the window breezed over her nakedness.
With his penis still held lightly in her hand, Sandra and he were sharing a quiet, peaceful silence out of the extreme fury of only moments earlier.
At last, Sandra opened her eyes and spoke in a soft whisper. “I love you, my Master”.
The mental/physical portion of Sandra’s first “training treatment” had concluded. The mental “reading” and “conditioning” would always be there.
He had promised a “No Strings Attached” relationship in his posting and couldn’t permit himself to speak what he wished to say. That would be for later.
-30-
Being the short opening to "a first attempt to write erotica",
your comments are appreciated.
Thank you.
If truly enjoyed, here is much more of the story available.
Simply ask.
