bdsm · caning · M. · Story


No one but Night, with tears on her dark face,
Watches beside me in this windy place.
~Edna St. Vincent Millay


rain.jpgThe air smells like rain and nighttime. We cross the empty parking lot to get to your car. I hear thunder and walk closer to you. You make me feel safe. I like how you open the car door for me. As soon as you close the door rain begins to bounce off of the windows. It soaks you as you run around the front of the car to get inside. You are laughing and wet when you climb in beside me. I like how the street light shines against your face, you seem to glow. You say we are going to wait here until the storm passes. You relax back into your seat and wipe the rain off of your face. There is rain on your arms and it makes your shirt cling to your skin. I ache to touch you but I don’t. Instead I lean back into the soft leather of the seat and watch you watch the rain. You catch me watching you and I look away. We sit and quietly talk for a few minutes. I feel your hand on the back of my head, under my hair and you gently stroke me. You are quiet as your hand idly plays with my collar. We are both quiet now. The silence is comfortable as we listen to the rain and the thunder outside. I love the way your thumb  strokes the top of my spine. You slip your finger beneath the leather and pull my head back hard against the seat. You watch my face for my reaction. You catch me off guard. It takes me a second to adjust to the tightness of the collar with your finger laced beneath it’s softness. It slows my breathing, centers me, forces me to concentrate on you. I am not scared, I feel calm as your grip beneath my collar holds me tight to the seat. I warily watch you not sure what to expect. Your other hand is on my knee and you tell me to open my legs. I do. You push my knees  further apart. I feel hot and flushed. The collar tightens and all I hear is my heart beat and you breathing. I feel air on my thighs. You have my skirt bunched around my waist. Your finger touches me possessively, I can feel it slide between my bare lips. I am instantly wet and I know you can feel me. I want you more than anything and I try to tell you by pressing against your hand. Again the collar tightens against my neck and I know it is a silent warning to be patient. A soft whimper escapes me when you stop. This isn’t about me. You mention the marks of the cane on my thighs and I like how your fingers trace over them. My skin stings as you press into each stripe. I feel my breath come faster as I try to focus on you and less on the pain of your pinching fingers on my thighs and the pressure of the collar circling my throat. I feel trapped, I feel pinned to the seat. I can’t move and do not want to.  I like how I am yours to play with. I barely hear the rain now. Your hand cups me pressing hard into my wetness, your palm making small circles against me, your finger inside me. You tell me how wet I am for you. How you like that I am ready for you and how you want to cane me again but that it will be much, much worse next time.  I love how your voice is hot on my neck and how your whispers nibble around my ear. I can’t help but press into your hand lifting my bottom slightly off of the seat arching my back. I am so close to orgasm and I can tell you know. You can read my body, you always could. I want you inside me. You tell me what a slut I am, but your voice is almost amused, admiring. Your words make me ache and I whisper, “please…Sir.” You scold me for my impatience and move your hand away. Your finger is still looped under my collar and using this as a  handle you pull my head down into your lap. You open your pants and you tell me to take your cock in my mouth. I struggle to obey you as the collar is too tight around my neck. I taste you and need surges through me. I love how you feel in my mouth, I love how you taste and the sounds you make that tell me I am pleasing you. You release my collar and grasp me around the back of my neck. You rest your other hand on the top of my head and I feel your fingers bury into my hair.  I feel your cock press deep into the back of my throat. I love how heavy you feel on my tongue as I struggle to take all of you as your thrusts quicken in and out of my mouth. I like how your hand is tight on the back of my neck. It reminds me that I am helpless against your strength, against your need to dominate me. I love the feeling of being helpless- of feeling submissive to you. Master, Master is playing over and over in my head with every thrust into my mouth and all I can think of is pleasing you. Your grip is tight and I can’t move. In my mind I know I exist at that moment only for you, to be used anyway you desire. I love feeling that I belong to you. You tell me you are ready to come and I can’t wait to taste you, to feel the liquid heat of you in my mouth. As you near your release your thrusts become harder and faster and I feel my lips bruise and swell and you hold me tighter. I wonder if you realize how tight your grasp is around my neck. You groan the moment before I taste you and I love it as I try my best to continue to hold all of you in my mouth while swallowing at the same time. I like how you spasm and jump slightly as I slowly continue to suck on your cock. I suckle more gently now running my tongue around the head of you savoring the lingering taste of you in my mouth. Your hand is still around the back of my neck resting your hand beneath my hair with the barest trace of pressure. I make sure you are cleaned off and as dry as my tongue can get you before lifting my head and looking at you. You are pleased with me, and you push my hair off of my face. You tell me what a good pet I am, how I please you. I love the satisfied expression on your face, how your blue eyes look soft now. I love how very beautiful you are. It embarrasses me because you know I am admiring you. We realize at the same time the rain has stopped. I can’t remember where we are going but I start to adjust my skirt pulling it down so we can leave. You catch my wrist and tell me not to. Leave it pulled up you say. It’s not mine to cover.


5 thoughts on “Rain

  1. pet,
    A wonderful story, so vivid and real to me because I know you, and I know us. It’s such a shame that your wonderful talents remain so much confined to your imagination. What can we do about that?!

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