I started at the end…

Image cour­tesy of Things to Excite the Eas­ily Aroused

“My col­lars. My cuffs. Please.”

I’m not capa­ble of being more elo­quent, not at this point. The images of Midori, of Adri­enna Nic­hole and Mark Davis on the screen and the blood rushes away from my brain and into much baser parts of my body. I’m just need at this point. I need to be con­tained, to be con­trolled, to be con­sumed by him — that’s all I know.

The cuffs are cold, the leather still as soft and sup­ple as I remem­ber, but cold hav­ing been stored away for so long. The metal D-ring of the col­lar, espe­cially — wher­ever it con­tacts my skin, goose­bumps rise in its wake. The sound of the key in the lock, and I’m brought back to the moment. Locks? Really? After all this time, no eas­ing back into it?

There’s a final­ity to it as he locks them onto me. My cunt is so fuck­ing juicy, already so excited and he hasn’t even touched me yet. I lay back, my skin chilled in the cold air of the room, though I can feel the heat of his gaze prac­ti­cally sear­ing my skin as he looks me over. There’s some­thing so ani­mal, so hun­gry in that look. The part of me that can still think won­ders whether, after all this time, if I haven’t unleashed some kind of beast.

He flips me over his lap, his cock already hard beneath me, the smooth vel­vet cock­skin soft against my tummy. As his hands roam over me, becom­ing reac­quainted with his prop­erty, I strain to turn my neck to watch the action on the skin in front of him. He pinches and squeezes, prod­ding and mea­sur­ing my responses, yank­ing up on the D-ring just to lis­ten to me yelp. One hand finds its way between my thighs, pushes them apart, and the other, on the back of my neck, warns me to keep my head down, warns me to be good.

Frus­trated with my attempts to keep watch­ing the tele­vi­sion, he takes my glasses, growl­ing that I should be pay­ing atten­tion to what he has in store for me. Deli­cious rip­ples of fear as he man­han­dles me, forc­ing me over his lap, ass high in the air, thighs spread, his favorite posi­tion for me.

Smack! Smack!

I squeal as flesh no longer used to such abuse turns pink under his firm hand. He is mer­ci­less, remind­ing me of what I used to be, and will again be under his tute­lage. When he tires of lis­ten­ing to me plead and beg, he fills my mouth with his cock, fuck­ing my mouth until I run out of protests, and relearn to accept my place as his fuck­toy, as a hole for his pleasure.

He’s like a sadis­tic dog with a new toy, push­ing me back and spread­ing my legs until my swollen cunt is exposed to his gaze. He cru­elly prises me apart, locat­ing my thick throb­bing clit and pulling it until tears fill my eyes and I start to cry. He squeezes my swollen lips, pulling me open to his gaze, know­ing how much it turns me on even while hor­ri­bly humil­i­at­ing and embar­rass­ing me. “You like this?” he asks, already know­ing the answer as I try not to meet his eyes.

Smack! Smack!

But this time across the exposed flesh of my cunt, smack­ing me over and over again as I try to close my legs and scram­ble back­wards. He seizes my wrists, pin­ning them behind me, and uses his legs to keep mine open. He knows exactly where it hurts the worst, where the thin skin gives way to sen­si­tive nerve end­ings. “Does it hurt, baby?” he asks in that silky, dan­ger­ous tone. Two fin­gers enter me roughly, then three. “But you like it, don’t you? You love it when I hurt you.”

I can’t say any­thing, I can only keep sob­bing, keep beg­ging, keep plead­ing — the evi­dence is right there and even I can’t believe how turned on I am. He’s rough, forc­ing his ele­gant fin­gers inside me, pump­ing and twist­ing them against my swollen g-spot until I’m squirt­ing on his wrist and beg­ging for…I’m not even sure any­more. Sex-dazed and mad­dened, I’m lit­tle more than a fuck doll at this point, not at all capa­ble of coher­ent thought.

He pulls his fuck­toy onto his lap, slip­ping his hard cock into my lush wet­ness, smil­ing as I wince and cry out as he drags my throb­bing clit across the length of his thick shaft. One hand pin­ning my wrist behind my back, the other cru­elly clamped onto the meat of my breast, he tells me to ride him, phys­i­cally bounc­ing me up and down when my legs threaten to give out. His mouth finds the nip­ple of my other breast, tastes it, teases it with his teeth until I’m bit­ing my lower lip to keep from scream­ing as my cunt tight­ens around his cock, and I’m so close…

He throws me off his lap, off his cock, and I tum­ble onto the rug on the floor before us. He rakes me with a con­temp­tu­ous gaze, look­ing at my swollen nip­ples, my hun­gry sex dis­played between wide open legs, gyrat­ing as my body real­izes that the orgasm isn’t com­ing. “Get on the bed,” he tells me, lift­ing me by the col­lar and throw­ing me against the head­board when I don’t move fast enough for his taste.

“Please…” I whim­per, so needy that I’ll do any­thing for an orgasm, my mind utterly destroyed and in its place, only obedience.

He mounts me, first one way, then another, pushes my body up against the head­board while he splits my legs apart for his cock. I grab onto the bars, try­ing to keep my body from fly­ing off with the force of his thrusts, try­ing to hang on for dear life and he fucks all of the need, all of the aggres­sion, all of the pent-up desire of the past few months into my swollen des­per­ate pussy. “Pleeeeease,” I beg, beg­ging for my orgasm, for his, for every­thing and anything.

He pulls out, grabs my hips and drags me down the bed even as I still grab onto the head­board. An evil glint in his eye, and he clips my wrist cuffs through the head­board, pulling my thighs apart and throw­ing them over his shoul­ders before plung­ing back into me and fuck­ing me deep into the mat­tress. It’s pri­mal, it’s ani­mal, and with a gut­teral cry that is utterly feral, he thrusts deep inside me one final time, and I can feel that hot flood inside me as he col­lapses atop me, his heavy body cov­er­ing mine. My legs tighten around his back, hips pump­ing as I try to ride out his soft­en­ing cock to my orgasm.  Noises I didn’t even know I could make are com­ing out of my mouth, and I’m hump­ing his body like an ani­mal, des­per­ate to come as he pulls away from me.

“Nooooooo,” I wail, my hips snap­ping the empty air. He smiles down at me, a lazy sated smile, but still dangerous.

“Do you want to come, baby?”

“Oh my god, yes. Please, I need it. Please, I have to, oh god…”

He pulls out the Hitachi, makes sure it’s plugged in and rests the head between my lips. Sex-crazed, I press against it, heed­less of the tor­ture, just des­per­ate to come. He turns it on, and sweet relief builds as the head buzzes against my des­per­ate clit, as I hump and fuck it.

“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven…”

I move faster, try­ing to breathe, try­ing to find that elu­sive relief.

“Six. Five. Four. You’d bet­ter come before I get to one, or we’re going to bed.”

I hump faster, harder, spread­ing my legs as wide as they’ll go, try­ing to pin that sweet vibra­tion in the right spot, not car­ing about any­thing but the need to orgasm.

“Three. Two. One.”

He shuts the Hitachi off. Puts it away. My eyes squeezed tight, my mouth open, pant­ing as I silently scream with my entire being. I can hear him mov­ing around the room, pick­ing up, clean­ing up. He leaves for a few moments, and returns, smelling of freshly brushed teeth. He leans over me, kisses me lightly on the cheek.

“I guess that’s it for now.”

If you haven’t already…find out how it ends.