He took my hand in his and held it tightly, he told me how much he had missed me and how he had dreamed of this moment, when I was once again truly his.
He told me that he knew my heart was his, and now he had reclaimed my mouth as his, it was time for the next part of me.
He sent me into the bathroom for a shower and told me to make sure that when I returned that I was dry. I spent a long time in the bathroom, running through in my mind what had happened , what I was feeling and wondering what would be next.
I returned to the bed room and there on the bed was a bag, smallish but long .I knelt at the end of the bed and waited for him.
His hand reached to my chin and lifted my face to his...............he smiled and slowly tied a blindfold over my eyes, soft black material completely covering my eyes, blocking out the light. He took my hand once more and laid it on his chest above his heart and then moved it to my chest and did the same.
"Be a good girl and don't fight me, don't complain".
He took my hand behind my back and began to tie a rope around my wrist and then the other, pulling them together, the rope ran up my arms to my elbows and I felt him tie them off.
Then very slowly and carefully he began to wind a different rope, a rough rope around my chest, under my tits and over the top, pulling tighter and tighter with each go, and I felt the rope tighten around my tits, pushing them , squeezing them, the blood restricted them, swelling quickly...my nipples tight.
I stood as still as I could while he worked, he ocassionally adjusted my body's stance; moving me, rearrnaging me very slightly.
He took the first rope and pulled my arms upwards and backwards slightly, and then wound the rope once around my neck, pulling it, pushing the rope between my tightly bound tits. I realised he had tied the rope round the rope there and then he ran it between my legs and tied it back onto the loop around my wrists.
I now stood very still, knowing that if I moved the rope would either tighten around my neck, pull the other rops tighter around my tits or dig deeper into my cunt.
He kissed me and told me to open my mouth and as I did, he placed a thin cord over my tounge and told me to keep it there, and then very carefully and gently he attached each end to one of my nipple bars. He warned me if I let go of the cord we would start all over again.
I stood still as I felt him check the ropes; he checked the rope around my neck, he kept checking it throughout the whole session, to make sure I was ok.
He walked around me, talking about what he could see, what he liked and then without warming he slapped my tits very hard and as he did he said "cord". I had opened my mouth to gasp, but shut it quickly.
I waited for the next slap...and it came...................... along with the pinching, the squeezing, poking, probing, examining. He pulled on the ropes till they were cutting into me, deep inside my cunt, the rough rope burning.
The slaps on my swollen tits hurting, stinging, filling them with heat and pain.
I stood, taking it, knowing this was what he needed...........it was hard, it hurt, but he needed for me to do as I was told, to take what he was giving me.
I longed for it to stop.
In my head I stopped it and began to imagine him undoing the rope, stopping the pain. I imagined his arms around me once more, but it continued, and with each movement, each response to his actions, one bit of rope or another bit deeper, tightened,...hurt. And every time I moved my head the neck rope would tighten and loosen, and the cord tied to my nipple bars would jerk and pull, sending hot rods of pain deep inside me
And then it did stop.
He leaned close into me.........his lips brushing my ear..............."Stay still, remember the cord" and I heard him leave the room and turn on the bath and I knew it was over soon. I held that cord so tight in my teeth.I did not want it to start again, I really didn't.
He cam back in and I felt his damp fingers on my wrists and slowly he began to undo the ropes, pulling the rough rope gently out of my cunt, gently massaging my wrist and arms, but still leaving the blindfold on.
And he picked me up and carried me to the bathroom, and stood me up , and helped me into the warm water, the smell of jasmine filling the air, and as he undid the blindfold and took it away, he was all I could see.
He kissed me once more and said.
"Thank you, slave. Stay there, I will be back."
He returned with a cold glass of champagne and sat on the edge of the bath watching while I lay there relaxing, and then helped me dry myself as I got out.
I went back into the bedroom, where my clothes now lay on the bed, with a beautiful new necklace, made from silver and garnets......and he told me to dress, we had a dinner booking.
I was very unslavely and leapt at him, flung my arms around his neck, wrapped my legs around his waist and covered his face with kisses.
He laughed so loud, gently pushed me away, then flung me on the bed, slapped my arse and told me to be quick.
Showing posts with label nipples. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nipples. Show all posts
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
Feeling his control
I was right about there being something in the air....last night when he came online I could see the glint in his eye, his mind turning.
"You know don't you slave?"
"Oh yes Sir I know"
'You know its not to punish you, you know its just to remind you, about my control, about who and what you are...its not to hurt you?"
"Yes Sir"
So last night after kneeling for a while, he had me slowly undress for him, and as each piece of clothing came off, he examined me,commenting on what he could see. About how soft my skin looked, how he liked my tan, how he liked the way my hair was falling onto my neck. He liked the contrast of my black bra against my skin. When he checked my nipples and the bars, he commented on how happy it makes him to see the symbol of his ownership in my body, the words written around my nipples. He spoke about my cunt, how it was wet, and swollen slightly.
By the time he had finished I was almost purring with happiness and squirming with pleasure.
He told me to collect the small thin cane and two pegs. I had to run the cane over my nipples, and as they became harder and more erect, he had me squeeze and pinch then, pulling them. and then.........
"....get the pegs and peg the cane to your nipples, put the nipple on top of the cane and then peg it, then put your hood on".
As I did the first one, it slipped and I yelped,
"Do it carefully slave".
Again I tried and then began to breathe deeply as the pain flowed through me, the cane firmly attached to my nipples, he had me put the hood on and told me all I was to think about was his voice, that the pain was not important, nothing other than him was important, all I had to think about was him.
And then I had to put my hands behind my back and the pull on my nipples must have made me flinch or gasp.
"The pain is nothing, it is me that you think about, I am the only thing, no pegs no cane, no pain, just me "
And his voice filled my head, the pain subsided and I thought of him, of him looking at me, watching me, enjoying what he saw, knowing he was happy was what became important.
And then one of the pegs pinged off..and I wanted to put it back on for him, but he told me to pull the other one off and cane my nipples five times each, and to do it quickly.
Without thinking I canned them, and waited for him to comment..............he told me to make myself cum.........my cunt was dripping and I came so fast,the orgasm ripping through my body, and as I was cumming he told me to pull the hood off.
After i had cum I stayed there on the floor, kneeling before my owner, waiting for him to talk, unable to look at him , feeling submissive......and he started again, looking at my body, commenting on how it looked now, how he had enjoyed using me , how I was his.
When he had finished, I had to get the cane and the rope, then tying the rope around myself under my tits, I had to tie the cane to myself, criss-crossing the rope around me to ensure that the cane stayed where he wanted it, under my tits.
So for last night I slept with the cane tied to me, tied to my tits, to remind me that it can be used on me, to remind me that whatever he wants to do...he can. And surprisingly , I slept very well, apart from waking once, I slept through the night and I woke when he called me, I once again knelt before him and removed the rope and cane, and expecting the pegs again, I waited, not wanting to do it, they were tender and a little sore, but knowing that I would do as he asked. I felt completely under his control, submissive, ready to please him.
The pegs were there, the rope was there, the cane was there...............but once again he examined me, talking about what he saw, commenting on what made him happy.
"Now tell me slave, how do you feel?"
And I thought for a moment , and I thought some more and I had just three words, "Submissive Sir, owned".
"Oh slave you should see the smile on your face".
And he made me lay down on the floor and make myself cum for him, and as I came I was filled with such feeling of submission I asked him if I could be allowed to lie in "my place", face down on the floor, arms behind my back, ankles crossed.
He chuckled and said "Oh course slave, its where you belong, you may get up when you are ready".
And I lay there for about twenty minutes, floating away on a wave of happiness and submission, my mind filled with thought of him, how I can make him happy, how I can be a better slave for him and how I love him.
And when I sat up, he was smiling at me, his glasses on the end of his nose, and I knew he had been reading, waiting for me.
And it felt how it should be...two sides of the coin. two separate people.... one entity.
"Now my slave . off you go and enjoy your last day off, what ever you want, do whatever you want".
And what I wanted filled my head "And no slave that does NOT included kneeling the in front of me, I'm going to bed, go have fun".
And he sent me away, with a virtual pat on the arse............oh sigh.
"You know don't you slave?"
"Oh yes Sir I know"
'You know its not to punish you, you know its just to remind you, about my control, about who and what you are...its not to hurt you?"
"Yes Sir"
So last night after kneeling for a while, he had me slowly undress for him, and as each piece of clothing came off, he examined me,commenting on what he could see. About how soft my skin looked, how he liked my tan, how he liked the way my hair was falling onto my neck. He liked the contrast of my black bra against my skin. When he checked my nipples and the bars, he commented on how happy it makes him to see the symbol of his ownership in my body, the words written around my nipples. He spoke about my cunt, how it was wet, and swollen slightly.
By the time he had finished I was almost purring with happiness and squirming with pleasure.
He told me to collect the small thin cane and two pegs. I had to run the cane over my nipples, and as they became harder and more erect, he had me squeeze and pinch then, pulling them. and then.........
"....get the pegs and peg the cane to your nipples, put the nipple on top of the cane and then peg it, then put your hood on".
As I did the first one, it slipped and I yelped,
"Do it carefully slave".
Again I tried and then began to breathe deeply as the pain flowed through me, the cane firmly attached to my nipples, he had me put the hood on and told me all I was to think about was his voice, that the pain was not important, nothing other than him was important, all I had to think about was him.
And then I had to put my hands behind my back and the pull on my nipples must have made me flinch or gasp.
"The pain is nothing, it is me that you think about, I am the only thing, no pegs no cane, no pain, just me "
And his voice filled my head, the pain subsided and I thought of him, of him looking at me, watching me, enjoying what he saw, knowing he was happy was what became important.
And then one of the pegs pinged off..and I wanted to put it back on for him, but he told me to pull the other one off and cane my nipples five times each, and to do it quickly.
Without thinking I canned them, and waited for him to comment..............he told me to make myself cum.........my cunt was dripping and I came so fast,the orgasm ripping through my body, and as I was cumming he told me to pull the hood off.
After i had cum I stayed there on the floor, kneeling before my owner, waiting for him to talk, unable to look at him , feeling submissive......and he started again, looking at my body, commenting on how it looked now, how he had enjoyed using me , how I was his.
When he had finished, I had to get the cane and the rope, then tying the rope around myself under my tits, I had to tie the cane to myself, criss-crossing the rope around me to ensure that the cane stayed where he wanted it, under my tits.
So for last night I slept with the cane tied to me, tied to my tits, to remind me that it can be used on me, to remind me that whatever he wants to do...he can. And surprisingly , I slept very well, apart from waking once, I slept through the night and I woke when he called me, I once again knelt before him and removed the rope and cane, and expecting the pegs again, I waited, not wanting to do it, they were tender and a little sore, but knowing that I would do as he asked. I felt completely under his control, submissive, ready to please him.
The pegs were there, the rope was there, the cane was there...............but once again he examined me, talking about what he saw, commenting on what made him happy.
"Now tell me slave, how do you feel?"
And I thought for a moment , and I thought some more and I had just three words, "Submissive Sir, owned".
"Oh slave you should see the smile on your face".
And he made me lay down on the floor and make myself cum for him, and as I came I was filled with such feeling of submission I asked him if I could be allowed to lie in "my place", face down on the floor, arms behind my back, ankles crossed.
He chuckled and said "Oh course slave, its where you belong, you may get up when you are ready".
And I lay there for about twenty minutes, floating away on a wave of happiness and submission, my mind filled with thought of him, how I can make him happy, how I can be a better slave for him and how I love him.
And when I sat up, he was smiling at me, his glasses on the end of his nose, and I knew he had been reading, waiting for me.
And it felt how it should be...two sides of the coin. two separate people.... one entity.
"Now my slave . off you go and enjoy your last day off, what ever you want, do whatever you want".
And what I wanted filled my head "And no slave that does NOT included kneeling the in front of me, I'm going to bed, go have fun".
And he sent me away, with a virtual pat on the arse............oh sigh.
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
7x14 =98 ...a timely punishment
The next morning I had to go to more training, this time not so far away, but I was up early, but not before having my head pushed under the covers and being allowed to suck my owners cock before my breakfast. It really was a quicky before I shot out of the door.
I had to text him, on each hour until I got back, and if if was more than five minutes past the hour for any reason other than the outbreak of war or and earthquake there "Would be consequences".
I made 7am, 8.03, 9.01, 10.10,11.06, 12.00, and 13.14.
He was not impressed and I was worried.
As I drove back to him, I began to contemplate what the "consequences" may be, but, in the end I gave up, as there really is never any point.
I knocked on the door and waited for him to tell me to come in. I crept in sheepishly and knelt at his feet, near to where he was working, talking on the phone. He indicated that I should stand, and remove my clothes, all whilst he continued talking about work. He pointed to the corner of the room and continued his conversation. when he had finished I waited expectantly for him to call me, but he didn't.
"Well slave, I've checked and war has not been declared...so any good reason why some of the times you were so late?"
There was no reasons and so I mumbled into the corner of the room "No Sir".
He had me crawl over to him again and kneel at his feet.
I have been thinking of how to punish your bad manners slave, how's your maths?
Well he knows how my maths is , its good, very good and so I didn't say anything................
"Choose a number between five and ten slave...."
It's always a difficult one ....until you know the parameters of what they are planning, and then there is the whole choosing thing again, so I hesitated......he started to count from 5 backwards and I know when he gets to zero I have to have chosen..........
"Seven Sir, please, I choose seven..."
"Oh good choice slave...hows your seven times table....?"
"Not bad Sir.............".
He told me what times he had received the messages and told me to multiply the late minutes by seven...........................................
"14 times 7 Sir is 98 Sir"
"Very good slave,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,so 98 it is then."
98 what? oh how I wanted to ask him, 98 what...?all of a sudden it sounded like such a big number.
The bag was on the floor near his feet and he reached inside it.
He got out the hood, this is not a leather one or a rubber one, it is like a big dark magicians bag with a draw string..............and I hate it.
He pulled out the butt plug and laid it on the bed.
He pulled out the crop and laid it on the bed
He pulled out the belt and laid it on the bed
And he pulled out a clothes hanger, the type with the clips on for trousers or skirts and he laid that on the bed.
He pulled me up by my hair and put the hood on me pulling the drawstring tight, but not so tight I couldn't breath, and then he bend me forwards and with a little lube and big push he rammed the plug into my arse. and then he knelt me down again and said "98 minutes slave, 98".
And so for the next 98 minutes I knelt there while he watched television, made a cup of tea, called a friend and chatted about nothing significant , and "No I'm not doing anything at the moment, nothing important, of course I can talk...................yes she's here with me...no....she being punished.............." I wanted to curl up and die with shame, embarrassment and humiliation.
And after the 98 minutes when he let me out, I was like I am always, desperate to see him, to be able to touch him, to not feel isolated and alone...............but he wouldn't let me touch him. He got the cane and pointed at the hanger....................
"Pass it to me slave please."
So I picked it up and carefully passed it to him, on my hands with the hook bit facing him. he picked it up carefully and dangled it from his fingers.
He turned and went to the wardrobe, I could hear him inside and when he turned round he had something in his hands, and I realised it was the knickers I had worn under my jeans the day we went along the river. He pointed with the cane, indicating I should stand in front of him, and he put the knickers on the bed next to me. The hanger, in both hands, he moved the clips until they were lined up with my nipples. the first one he put on, closing it slowly over my nipple, the edge of the clip past my bars...........oh it hurt, that mind numbing hurt of initial pain, and then............he snapped the other one on, not gentle easing it closed............snap like a crocodile, with jaws of death.......................I cried out and as I did, he showed the knickers into my mouth. I sobbed and cried as the pain flooded from m nipple, I moaned and he stood and watched me; he just stood and watched me.
When I had calmed down a little and got my breath back, he pulled the hook of the hanger towards him and upwards. I reacted by trying to get higher, onto my toes, he pulled higher and I yelped. He put his fingers in my mouth and then followed them with the hook.
He told me to stand up straight and look at him.
He lectured me; about being late, about manners, about how or why I could possibly imagine that my time would ever be more important than his time, he asked if I had any reasonable excuse, to which I shock my head.
"I am upset that you think so little of me that you cannot find the time to send a text, that is why I am punishing you, for your bad manners and thoughtlessness".
And with that ...........he bent me over and placed my hands on the bed.....................
"You will not move and you will count and if you let the hanger fall from your mouth we will start again."
And he picked up the belt and began to use it on my arse, on my legs and on my back....49 times it hit me and I counted each one and then he put it down and picked up the cane......................and I counted, some times it took me a long time to be able to say the number, some times I was frightened that the hook would fall from my mouth, sometimes I had to think hard which number I was on............but finally I said 98 ....................and it was over.
Not all of them had been hard, not all of them had stung or hurt, but each one I had felt and each one I had counted.
He removed the butt plug and then his hands were on my hips.
"Let go of the hanger slave, ...........................its over."
So I let go and knew that it was coming off and I was afraid, afraid of the pain,...................................He unclipped them at the same time and the rush of pain overwhelmed me, I felt my knees buckle, and he put his hands under my armpits and held me steady. his hands reached across to my nipples and he squeezed them tightly, very tightly, numbing them again, and then slowly , very slowly reducing the pressure on them.
He laid me on the bed, on my stomach, and examined the view...............
"How may times did I punish you slave?"
"98 Sir"
"How many minutes were you late slave?"
"14 Sir."
"Yes slave 14 minutes late................you will not forget that will you slave?"
"No Sir I wont forget."
And then I began to shake, and he wrapped the duvet around me, and pulled me close to him. He stroked my hair and wiped away my tears as I begged his forgiveness. he assured me it was all over now, I had been punished and it was finished, he expected me to remember what I had learned, but it as over.
He made me a drink and fed me some biscuits, he sat and watched me, talking to me, I don;t know what about, just soothing word. he made me eat some more and gave me a drink of water.
He laid me down on the bed and told me he would be watching me sleep, and he go my rope and put it around me my neck.
He got his work and laid next to me on the bed. I unraveled the duvet and crawled closer to him, trying to get as much of me touching him as possible, feeling the roughness of his jumper on my very sore , but not caring, needing to be close to be touching. he reached a hand towards by sore arse and pulled me close and told me to sleep.
'Tonight slave, when you are rested we will have some fun, now sleep"
And I did, I slept for hours, but always aware that he was next to me and I was next to him....naked and sore, but I was next to him.
I had to text him, on each hour until I got back, and if if was more than five minutes past the hour for any reason other than the outbreak of war or and earthquake there "Would be consequences".
I made 7am, 8.03, 9.01, 10.10,11.06, 12.00, and 13.14.
He was not impressed and I was worried.
As I drove back to him, I began to contemplate what the "consequences" may be, but, in the end I gave up, as there really is never any point.
I knocked on the door and waited for him to tell me to come in. I crept in sheepishly and knelt at his feet, near to where he was working, talking on the phone. He indicated that I should stand, and remove my clothes, all whilst he continued talking about work. He pointed to the corner of the room and continued his conversation. when he had finished I waited expectantly for him to call me, but he didn't.
"Well slave, I've checked and war has not been declared...so any good reason why some of the times you were so late?"
There was no reasons and so I mumbled into the corner of the room "No Sir".
He had me crawl over to him again and kneel at his feet.
I have been thinking of how to punish your bad manners slave, how's your maths?
Well he knows how my maths is , its good, very good and so I didn't say anything................
"Choose a number between five and ten slave...."
It's always a difficult one ....until you know the parameters of what they are planning, and then there is the whole choosing thing again, so I hesitated......he started to count from 5 backwards and I know when he gets to zero I have to have chosen..........
"Seven Sir, please, I choose seven..."
"Oh good choice slave...hows your seven times table....?"
"Not bad Sir.............".
He told me what times he had received the messages and told me to multiply the late minutes by seven...........................................
"14 times 7 Sir is 98 Sir"
"Very good slave,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,so 98 it is then."
98 what? oh how I wanted to ask him, 98 what...?all of a sudden it sounded like such a big number.
The bag was on the floor near his feet and he reached inside it.
He got out the hood, this is not a leather one or a rubber one, it is like a big dark magicians bag with a draw string..............and I hate it.
He pulled out the butt plug and laid it on the bed.
He pulled out the crop and laid it on the bed
He pulled out the belt and laid it on the bed
And he pulled out a clothes hanger, the type with the clips on for trousers or skirts and he laid that on the bed.
He pulled me up by my hair and put the hood on me pulling the drawstring tight, but not so tight I couldn't breath, and then he bend me forwards and with a little lube and big push he rammed the plug into my arse. and then he knelt me down again and said "98 minutes slave, 98".
And so for the next 98 minutes I knelt there while he watched television, made a cup of tea, called a friend and chatted about nothing significant , and "No I'm not doing anything at the moment, nothing important, of course I can talk...................yes she's here with me...no....she being punished.............." I wanted to curl up and die with shame, embarrassment and humiliation.
And after the 98 minutes when he let me out, I was like I am always, desperate to see him, to be able to touch him, to not feel isolated and alone...............but he wouldn't let me touch him. He got the cane and pointed at the hanger....................
"Pass it to me slave please."
So I picked it up and carefully passed it to him, on my hands with the hook bit facing him. he picked it up carefully and dangled it from his fingers.
He turned and went to the wardrobe, I could hear him inside and when he turned round he had something in his hands, and I realised it was the knickers I had worn under my jeans the day we went along the river. He pointed with the cane, indicating I should stand in front of him, and he put the knickers on the bed next to me. The hanger, in both hands, he moved the clips until they were lined up with my nipples. the first one he put on, closing it slowly over my nipple, the edge of the clip past my bars...........oh it hurt, that mind numbing hurt of initial pain, and then............he snapped the other one on, not gentle easing it closed............snap like a crocodile, with jaws of death.......................I cried out and as I did, he showed the knickers into my mouth. I sobbed and cried as the pain flooded from m nipple, I moaned and he stood and watched me; he just stood and watched me.
When I had calmed down a little and got my breath back, he pulled the hook of the hanger towards him and upwards. I reacted by trying to get higher, onto my toes, he pulled higher and I yelped. He put his fingers in my mouth and then followed them with the hook.
He told me to stand up straight and look at him.
He lectured me; about being late, about manners, about how or why I could possibly imagine that my time would ever be more important than his time, he asked if I had any reasonable excuse, to which I shock my head.
"I am upset that you think so little of me that you cannot find the time to send a text, that is why I am punishing you, for your bad manners and thoughtlessness".
And with that ...........he bent me over and placed my hands on the bed.....................
"You will not move and you will count and if you let the hanger fall from your mouth we will start again."
And he picked up the belt and began to use it on my arse, on my legs and on my back....49 times it hit me and I counted each one and then he put it down and picked up the cane......................and I counted, some times it took me a long time to be able to say the number, some times I was frightened that the hook would fall from my mouth, sometimes I had to think hard which number I was on............but finally I said 98 ....................and it was over.
Not all of them had been hard, not all of them had stung or hurt, but each one I had felt and each one I had counted.
He removed the butt plug and then his hands were on my hips.
"Let go of the hanger slave, ...........................its over."
So I let go and knew that it was coming off and I was afraid, afraid of the pain,...................................He unclipped them at the same time and the rush of pain overwhelmed me, I felt my knees buckle, and he put his hands under my armpits and held me steady. his hands reached across to my nipples and he squeezed them tightly, very tightly, numbing them again, and then slowly , very slowly reducing the pressure on them.
He laid me on the bed, on my stomach, and examined the view...............
"How may times did I punish you slave?"
"98 Sir"
"How many minutes were you late slave?"
"14 Sir."
"Yes slave 14 minutes late................you will not forget that will you slave?"
"No Sir I wont forget."
And then I began to shake, and he wrapped the duvet around me, and pulled me close to him. He stroked my hair and wiped away my tears as I begged his forgiveness. he assured me it was all over now, I had been punished and it was finished, he expected me to remember what I had learned, but it as over.
He made me a drink and fed me some biscuits, he sat and watched me, talking to me, I don;t know what about, just soothing word. he made me eat some more and gave me a drink of water.
He laid me down on the bed and told me he would be watching me sleep, and he go my rope and put it around me my neck.
He got his work and laid next to me on the bed. I unraveled the duvet and crawled closer to him, trying to get as much of me touching him as possible, feeling the roughness of his jumper on my very sore , but not caring, needing to be close to be touching. he reached a hand towards by sore arse and pulled me close and told me to sleep.
'Tonight slave, when you are rested we will have some fun, now sleep"
And I did, I slept for hours, but always aware that he was next to me and I was next to him....naked and sore, but I was next to him.
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Ways to tell your owner is feeling better
He is feeling better,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,how can I tell?
It could be the rope marks left on my tits from the tightest binding I have ever had to do, till they turned blueish and then purpleish, till they felt like that were going to split like a ripe plum, the skin tight and straining.
It could be the deep pain in my nipples from wearing the clothes pegs under my clothes. The bra pressing the pegs onto me, twisting and shifting them with even the smallest movement, making it hard for me to get my head round the pain till I am whimpering and gasping with each breath.
It could be the marks left on my tits from the killer pegs that I had to put on my bound tits. The pegs he chose that have a grip like a nipple fitting into a hole, that impress the flesh like a waffle iron and hurt like hell when you take them off, so your eyes smart, the breath catches in the back of your throat and you can't decide if it hurts more to keep them on or take them off.
It could be the messing with my head, while he left me blindfold and bound in the corner, telling me I was a slut, a toy, a thing to be used.
It could be how he made me kneel before him and bring me to that second of wild abandon before I come, that moment of almost madness, where he stopped me and left me standing begging to be allowed to cum and being denied.
These are some of the clues that made me think he might be feeling a tad better..............I'm not looking forward to when he us 100%....actually maybe I am.:)
It could be the rope marks left on my tits from the tightest binding I have ever had to do, till they turned blueish and then purpleish, till they felt like that were going to split like a ripe plum, the skin tight and straining.
It could be the deep pain in my nipples from wearing the clothes pegs under my clothes. The bra pressing the pegs onto me, twisting and shifting them with even the smallest movement, making it hard for me to get my head round the pain till I am whimpering and gasping with each breath.
It could be the marks left on my tits from the killer pegs that I had to put on my bound tits. The pegs he chose that have a grip like a nipple fitting into a hole, that impress the flesh like a waffle iron and hurt like hell when you take them off, so your eyes smart, the breath catches in the back of your throat and you can't decide if it hurts more to keep them on or take them off.
It could be the messing with my head, while he left me blindfold and bound in the corner, telling me I was a slut, a toy, a thing to be used.
It could be how he made me kneel before him and bring me to that second of wild abandon before I come, that moment of almost madness, where he stopped me and left me standing begging to be allowed to cum and being denied.
These are some of the clues that made me think he might be feeling a tad better..............I'm not looking forward to when he us 100%....actually maybe I am.:)
Friday, 24 December 2010
His hands are big.
His hands are big.
The gentle caress as he strokes my hair, teasing his finger through it, untangling the knots of my sweat dampened hair. Twisting his fingers through my hair and closing his hand, slowly pulling my head back until my throat is exposed. Pulling me by my hair, as I scramble behind him on my knees across the room to be pushed into the corner, or pulled up to suck his cock. His hand on the back of my head, fingers entwined in the hairs at the nape of my neck, forcing him deeper down my throat, my hair covered in cum.
His hand cupping my breasts, gently circling them, stroking, making me squirm with delight. Fingers playing with my nipples, rolling them between finger and thumb, gently teasing and pulling, tracing the shapes of my nipple, then squeezing, cruelly twisting and pulling; bringing tears to my eyes and sobs catching in the back of my throat as the pressure increases. Flicking my tender nipples, slapping, twisting and squeezing my breasts, punching, bruising and scratching.
Gentle erotic finger, teasing the lips of my cunt, exploring opening the folds and finding that spot that brings me to the point of explosion, pulling away, knowing just what to do till I am shaking and begging for permission.. Fingers forced inside, one after the other, pounding and digging, scratching, pulling until I want to retreat away from them ,hurting and demanding
The lightest of touch on my face with his fingers, tracing the shape of my lips, running over my eyes lashes, the base of my throat. The suddenness of the slap, stinging and burning, the shock of the noise as his hand moves past my ears and connects with my face. His fingers forced into my mouth, examining me, pulling my mouth wider , pushing down my throat, or wet from my cunt demanding to be cleaned.
His finger running with the touch of the softest feather down my spine, teasing the shape of my buttocks, to the base of my spine, his hand stroking my back. The first slap, hot and sudden, followed by more and more, a pattern building ,faster and faster, harder and harder, each cheek wanting more, my inability to prevent the need to lift up and meet his hand, until the slaps become interspersed with a fist striking my cheeks, the tempo changing. The floating away on the pain, the submissiveness it fills me with, the humiliation I feel as he tells me why he has to do this to me.
Fingers travelling down from my jaw, making me purr with pleasure, rubbing my tired neck, easing the troubles of the day away.Gently stroking, relaxing. The gradual increased pressure on my throat. My eyes drawn to his face as the pressure increases, feeling each individual finger as it closes, tighter and tighter, restricting the air as I begin to drift away, filled with peace and trust.
The gentle big hands cupping my face, moving my damp hair from my face, the fingers wiping away my tears, hands wiping my face with a cool flannel, rubbing in cream and tending to cuts, loving, reassuring hands.
One hand on me as I fall asleep beside him, the other, holding the end of my rope.
His hands are big
The gentle caress as he strokes my hair, teasing his finger through it, untangling the knots of my sweat dampened hair. Twisting his fingers through my hair and closing his hand, slowly pulling my head back until my throat is exposed. Pulling me by my hair, as I scramble behind him on my knees across the room to be pushed into the corner, or pulled up to suck his cock. His hand on the back of my head, fingers entwined in the hairs at the nape of my neck, forcing him deeper down my throat, my hair covered in cum.
His hand cupping my breasts, gently circling them, stroking, making me squirm with delight. Fingers playing with my nipples, rolling them between finger and thumb, gently teasing and pulling, tracing the shapes of my nipple, then squeezing, cruelly twisting and pulling; bringing tears to my eyes and sobs catching in the back of my throat as the pressure increases. Flicking my tender nipples, slapping, twisting and squeezing my breasts, punching, bruising and scratching.
Gentle erotic finger, teasing the lips of my cunt, exploring opening the folds and finding that spot that brings me to the point of explosion, pulling away, knowing just what to do till I am shaking and begging for permission.. Fingers forced inside, one after the other, pounding and digging, scratching, pulling until I want to retreat away from them ,hurting and demanding
The lightest of touch on my face with his fingers, tracing the shape of my lips, running over my eyes lashes, the base of my throat. The suddenness of the slap, stinging and burning, the shock of the noise as his hand moves past my ears and connects with my face. His fingers forced into my mouth, examining me, pulling my mouth wider , pushing down my throat, or wet from my cunt demanding to be cleaned.
His finger running with the touch of the softest feather down my spine, teasing the shape of my buttocks, to the base of my spine, his hand stroking my back. The first slap, hot and sudden, followed by more and more, a pattern building ,faster and faster, harder and harder, each cheek wanting more, my inability to prevent the need to lift up and meet his hand, until the slaps become interspersed with a fist striking my cheeks, the tempo changing. The floating away on the pain, the submissiveness it fills me with, the humiliation I feel as he tells me why he has to do this to me.
Fingers travelling down from my jaw, making me purr with pleasure, rubbing my tired neck, easing the troubles of the day away.Gently stroking, relaxing. The gradual increased pressure on my throat. My eyes drawn to his face as the pressure increases, feeling each individual finger as it closes, tighter and tighter, restricting the air as I begin to drift away, filled with peace and trust.
The gentle big hands cupping my face, moving my damp hair from my face, the fingers wiping away my tears, hands wiping my face with a cool flannel, rubbing in cream and tending to cuts, loving, reassuring hands.
One hand on me as I fall asleep beside him, the other, holding the end of my rope.
His hands are big
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