There was a heavy black rope around my left ankle, white leather cuffs around my wrists yet it was his hand pressing down into the middle of my back that made me feel owned. Naked of course he had just ordered me to the center of his giant bed where he asked me to get on my hands and knees. I did so and then rested on my elbows pressing my head into the white sheets so my bottom lifted high like he likes it. I heard him whisper ‘good girl’ and was thrilled that I had pleased him. His hand rested on my back and he firmly pressed me lower telling me that he liked how it opened me up for him. He told me that he knew my cunt was wet.
He pulled on the rope reminding me it was there and what it meant. It felt heavy on my foot. He started spanking me hard on the bottom, the kind of spanking that is not even close to being a warm up. Just hard smacks covering my bottom and the backs of my legs. Soon I was squirming and I heard myself whimper. He told me to be still. I tried to be still. I like directives like this from him. Be still, open your mouth, say it, tell me, hold still. Simple comments without a trace of doubt in them- he knows I am going to obey him. I held still, my mind racing to what was ahead of me.My mind grabbed a hold of the thick rope on my ankle and I realized that it meant so much…ownership, devotion, trust, love, submission. He stopped spanking me long enough to get the strap…I call this his new best friend. It is a short thick piece of leather, almost stiff yet it can still be bent. It stings. He brought the strap down across my bottom, my legs, even my back for what seemed like 10 minutes. It was a hard beating and I was close to slipping away yet I did not. I was lost in the pain and feeling every wonderful stroke. I heard the strap hit the bed beside me and felt the softness of my beautiful flogger stroke down my back. He wasn’t finished with me yet. He caressed my sore skin with the flogger until I felt the need to purr. I have a very cat-like response to being stroked by Richard.
I love touch. I require a lot of touch…both gentle and hard. Gentle means very little to me though without the brutality. I have a hard time feeling gentle touches. They are cumbersome to me and I sometimes feel irritated by them unless followed or precedented by pain. I have learned to seek Richard’s touch out, even gentle touches. I lean into him, I nuzzle against him and usually do not even realize it. He worries that I will smother at night because my face is buried into him. I find so much comfort in his touch, in his presence. It is all together a series of a million new feelings and experiences for me.
He began to flog me harder. Over and over across my back and my bottom. My face felt heated and I felt the bone jarring blows one after the other. I felt my juice drip down my leg and part of me felt shamed by that evidence of my desire, the rest of me hoped he would see it. It isn’t as if he doesn’t know how I respond to him. I lose all pride at his touch.
The flogging stopped and he draped the doeskin across my shoulders allowing the heavy white strands to wrap around my neck. I tensed for him to tighten the strands…for him to take away my air. He didn’t. He just allowed the flogger to rest on my body. The threat was there, I liked that. I felt him step closer to the bed. I heard him whisper to me….I swirled around in his hard words trying to stay with him. I didn’t want to spend my first weekend as his slave in sub la-la land. I needed to feel this, to hear his words. He said he was going to fuck my ass. He told me to ask him to do it. The words stumbled out of my mouth even as I arched my back preparing my body for him. He slammed into me and I could hardly breath. Using only my own juices he forced his way inside my body. I felt myself press into him meeting him stroke for stroke…. loving the achy full feeling I get when his cock is in my ass…..loving the way his hands roughly pull my cheeks apart so he can fuck me as deeply as possible. I grunted, I whimpered, I felt myself sweat. There was pain but there was so much pleasure in having him inside of me like that. I have really become accustomed to serving him this way. I love that I can offer him this part of myself. I felt his strokes get deeper and faster and finally I felt his entire body tense and he pulled out of me.
I felt the heat of his release on my back. His hand rested on my neck and he pulled me up slightly telling me not to move, he said he would be right back. Thinking he needed to go clean up or get me a towel I didn’t worry.
I should have worried.
I felt cold metal scraping across my skin and a second later he was at my side holding a spoon. I knew what the scraping had been on my back and I knew right away what the spoon held. I opened my mouth and he spoon fed me his quickly cooling cum. First one spoonful and then a second. I held his cum in my mouth waiting for permission to swallow it. That isn’t so much a rule of his as it is an expectation. One that I love to hate. Finally after a few more seconds he gave me permission to swallow his cum.
I realized as he wrapped his hand in my hair and pulled me against him for a deep kiss that this was going to be quite a weekend.