He bought a new toy. A crop actually. It is a fascinating little torture device. I won’t go into the fact that he was with L when he made the purchase. It was one of those conversations that I would have loved to have been privy too. I think about that sometimes….you know, what they talk about when I am not there. Not normal everyday husband and wife conversation but when they talk about me. It has to be more interesting now that L often refers to me as “little bird”. So I wonder how the topic of purchasing a crop to be used on me came up. I suppose I may never know but the thought intrigues me nonetheless.
The crop. Well…I was looking forward to feeling it. It was a new implement for me. Richard has had this dark twinkle in his eye ever since he purchased it and I knew as soon as he thought I was capable I would feel its sting. I was lucky that I remained a crop-virgin for as long as I did. My luck was running out.
I was as usual a few minutes late getting to our apartment last week. A million people always seem to need me the minute I begin to close down my office. I hate that feeling…knowing I am going to be late and knowing I am going to hear about it from Richard. He had given me specific instructions and being on time was one of them.
I walked into the apartment and knelt by the door as soon as it closed behind me. The room smelled like his shower. As I knelt I felt my eyes quickly adjust from the bright sunshine outside to the darkened apartment. I still feel breathless when I am on my way to see him. I have never known such heart racing recklessness. It is an addicting dynamic. It makes me feel so aware of my body, almost as if his very ownership of me makes me more aware of everything going on within myself. I crave his touch to the point my skin strains to feel it…it reminds me of the feeling of trying to hear something so quiet you can barely make it out. It is similar to that silence you try to create. That is how my skin needs him.
On the couch he sat shirtless with the crop laying off to the side…it was well within arms reach and he saw me pretend to not see it. My heart raced and ached and pounded as I waited to read whatever expression would cross his face. I knew he would probably chastise me for being late, I didn’t care about that. I just wanted his words, his eyes, his undivided attention fully focused on me. Our time together when alone has become doubly precious to me. Yes, when there are three of us things seems more natural but there is still a division of attention and a caution that I sense from Richard that he guard demonstrating affection to me. I am getting better at not letting that sort of withdraw hurt me. I am working at hard at convincing myself that part of my role is to make this easier on L. That I can be strong enough in his ownership of me to not need a lot of hand holding when the three of us interact. I think he could do better here and maybe in time he will. I also think I have done a pretty good job of respectfully verbalizing my needs to him and how it makes me feel to have him be guarded with me. Anyway…..
He let me kneel there a moment before telling me to remove my panties. I did and then he told me to crawl to him. Inside with every inch my body got warmer and warmer. I loved the rough feeling of the carpet beneath my bare knees and the way my dress fell open at front and I could see my thighs brush softly together. I was wet for him already and by the time I reached him and rested my head against his knee I stifled a moan. I felt his leg under my head and his hand rest in my hair. I imagined him pulling me roughly in front of him and smacking my face. Sometimes I just need that..lol. I can’t explain why but I do. But I also know that if he needed that I would have gotten it and he didn’t need it. He allowed me to rest there beside him on the floor for a few minutes.
When he spoke his first words were to remind me of the importance of being on time. He told me to plan better and not to be late again. Inward I sobbed quietly because I do hate that disappointed tone in his voice. I thought about explaining the intricacies that caused me to be late but figured he knew that- he was telling me to plan better- not change the world.
I felt him shift and knew he had picked up the crop. I didn’t move except to breathe and I am not even sure I was doing that. The crop was sliding down my arms and across my cheek. I had my arms folded around his leg and my head rested against his knee. The crop was gentle in its exploration and it caressed my cheek softly. He rubbed it across my mouth and down the curve of my throat. He allowed it to rest there for at least four or five breathes.
“Turn around and get on your hands and knees.” His directions were curt but not lacking warmth. His voice twists around me so I can’t help but to do as I am told. I was wearing a white dress….similar to a man’s white cotton dress shirt and a white bra beneath. My white panties had been discarded upon entering the room.
I felt his hands beneath my dress and he lifted it so it was bunched slightly around my waist. I held my breath not sure what was coming; the sting of his hand, a gentle touch or the new sensation of the crop? I felt the crop brushing my skin. It tapped at me and he told me to open my legs. I learned after only a few minutes that I didn’t like the crop.
It is a pain that I had a difficult time eroticizing. I imagine it would make a good punishment implement if Richard was all about being punitive. Its bite is not good at all. It is hard and thuddy….and doesn’t evoke one pleasant feeling inside me. It is a lasting pain that is no where close to being gone when the next blow lands. I found it quite difficult to take and was tempted to beg him to cane me instead. He started to use the crop on the softest part of my bottom first before moving down to the backs of my legs. I felt hot and aching before he was finished playing with his new toy.
I will not do a good job of explaining the next few hours. I remember being pushed down on the bed, and I remember him telling me that he was going to use all of my holes. I remember my mind going somewhat quiet after than and an accepting sort of subbie space feeling creeping over me. And I remember the feel of the crop on my breasts and on my back. I heard my moans and I remember him pulling orgasms out of my body.
Then…I remember him telling me to choose a cane. I needed something solid. I wanted something hard and thick and I wanted to feel the cane. I choose a larger one. A thick one and it was heavy in my hand. He told me to stretch across the bed as if he had tied me he said. He told me to spread my legs and reach as far as I could towards the top of the bed.
He is an expert with the cane. With a flick of his wrist he can leave me moaning and rolling from side to side warning myself to stay still for him. He canes my back and my legs…even a few on the backs of my feet. At this point I am gone…I am feeling the cane but drowning in the wonderful consuming pain of it all. You know, its that place I go; where pleasing him is the only thing that matters, where cruelty and agony is welcome and sweet. I needed it and he knew it. He took it all and I knew that he would. I wonder where it all comes from…where inside myself do I hold that type of resolve, that type of tolerance to what he inflicts on me. And what is it about my mind that makes me seek and crave and need more. Why can it sometimes not matter how much he pushes me or how hard he canes me or how tight he squeezes my neck….why do I always wonder what is next. Why when he gets that look on his face, the one he gets when he is holding one of my small nipples in each of his hands and he is practically lifting me off of the bed by them….I love that look.
After he caned me I remember him pulling me to my knees and burying himself deep inside me. I heard his moan and I struggled as I always do to take him that way. He pulled out of me after a few hard deep thrusts and flipped me over onto my back. His eyes never left my face and I couldn’t look away from his eyes as they devoured me and forced me to give it all up to him, to as usual submit to him freely. He pulled my legs over his shoulders.
“I am going to fuck your ass. Say it, tell me you want me to.”
“Please…” I would have said anything. “Please Sir…fuck my ass.” I didn’t cring the way I usually do when he makes me say this…I didn’t tense like I usally do when I know he is going to take me this way even though he hasn’t really taken me this way unless he behind me. I briefly wondered how possible that was.
“You are wet enough..aren’t you?.”
“Yes Sir.” I moaned into my arm trying now not to look at him.
“Reach down here and open yourself for me…” I obeyed him. “Good girl, that is how I like it, open it wide. I want to see what is mine, I want to see what I am fucking. Ask me again, ask me to fuck your ass.”
Again..I would have said anything, anything at all to feel him deep inside of me so great was my need.
I shuddered as he rubbed the thick tip of his cock against me. “Please…please fuck my ass” I begged him again.
He lifted my hips slightly and plunged inside me. I bit down on my shoulder and moaned loud swallowing a scream. I wasn’t sure what it was for pleasure or pain and with Richard it doesn’t matter…he gives me both and I take them as the same because in doing so I please him. They blend and I learn and I grow as I submit to him.
As deep as he was inside me I felt my body just relax into the strokes as if it somehow knew it was his to take. My legs on his shoulders felt natural and his eyes watching his cock go in and out of my ass felt almost natural too. This place is good I thought as I realized I was completely lost in the pure feelings coursing through my body. I tried to look and see what it was he was seeing…it fascinated me to see us joined together that way.
“What are you doing my pet…want to see?” He sounded breathless but amused and before I knew it he had turned me around and pressed back inside of me again from behind. He lifted me…effortlessly and was carrying me across the bedroom into the apartment bathroom. I clutched at him afraid for a second. I imagined him dropping me and breaking his cock off inside of me. Can that happen? Seriously…can it? And if it did…who would I call?
Anyway…once in the bathroom he somehow flipped the light on and all thoughts of his once joined to his body cock getting lost in the dark recesses of my ass were gone. I was mortified that I was actually going to see myself…gulp….back there.
He told me to put my feet on the ledge of the bathroom sink. He told me to look, to watch. I did. I had to. I couldn’t have not looked…his long cock buried deep in the pinkness of my small asshole; it was quite a sight and I couldn’t believe I was seeing it. The mirror reflected back to me such an imagine, one I will never forget. My face was flushed and my color was high. My eyes looked feverish and I was connected to him so completely. With every deep thrust it was as if we were sealed together…and I guess we are.
Somehow we ended up back across the bed. I remember him walking me back there with his cock still buried deep in his ass…I didn’t worry about it breaking this time. I wasn’t too worried about much of anything at this point.
I remember having him beside me and his hand on the back of my neck pressing me down into the bed. His hand was hard and I was on my tummy. His hand was wrapped around his cock and after a minute it was in my mouth, he had told me he would use all of my holes. After a few minutes I felt his hand pull my hair so my head pulled back sharply….he held his cock against my cheek and I felt his cum on my face. The head of his cock smeared it around in small circles. He brushed it across my mouth as if teasing me with the taste he knew I loved; reminding me that I would feel it drying tight on my cheek and would not be feeling it melt down my throat.
I remember waking up beside him later still floaty and slightly disoriented. Still happy and owned wrapped so safe in my Owners strong arms….with his lips in my hair and his sweet loving words filling my ears. He is careful to hold me close to him afterwards…there is nothing like that feeling. Being taken and consumed in such a way only to be allowed to glide back to earth safely, why would I give this up? Why would I ask him to?