onedeadpoet:

Not yet, baby, not yet. Hold out. If you can’t, you’re going to make me stop. And stopping is the last thing you want me to do. Maybe if I go slower…and lighter…there…much better. You know what grinding against my tongue to try and get more pressure means. Arms and legs out. I’ll secure them. Then it’s back to work.

You Ask

archore:

Whose pussy is that? you ask. Yours I say. What is it for? you ask. Your pleasure I say. Does it come? you ask. I pause. I haven’t come in a while. You fuck me every night and most mornings. In the car you tell me to edge. I’m tense with all the orgasms I haven’t had. The tension never leaves now. I want to come. But I don’t want to lose the tension. When I’m tense like this, I can always feel you.

No I say. Your pussy doesn’t come. Not unless you want it to.

When you push inside me it hurts. The tension makes my pussy tight, sometimes almost too tight. I wince.

How tight should you be? you ask. Tighter I say and I mean it. I wish the pain of that first moment of penetration would last. It never does.

Are you mine? you ask. Yes I say and wish I had something more to say. I need to prove it to you, always.

You drive me towards the edge. I was tense before you even started fucking me. I get more tense with each stroke. I’m trying to breathe, to stay away from the edge, I don’t trust my body at this point. Apprehensive. Orgasms have a way of sneaking up on me.

It doesn’t help. It never does. The edge gets closer and I tense everything to hang on. I try to not think about coming, but the world has disappeared and all I can feel is you inside me and a vague echo of my aching muscles. I’m on the edge and I lean against the impeding waves like I’m leaning into a strong wind, swaying, trying to not lose ground, not give in. It’s a losing battle. Then I know I will be swept up in the current and tell you: Stop. You stop for the fraction of a second. Not long enough. You’re still fucking me, an interrupted rhythm.

How often should I make you come? you ask. I look at you, eyes wide, I imagine I open my mouth to respond, but there are no words. I’m so close. Too close to answer your question. I know the answer, but saying the word would push me over the edge.

With each stroke I arch my back, hanging on, not letting the waves pull me away. I’m still losing. If I’d relax ever so slightly the waves would still pull me out to sea. Stop I say again, and this time you do and you watch me, every muscle in my body is tense, fighting back the orgasm. I’m almost coming, I would if my muscles weren’t too tense to allow for even that much. For a moment, desperation washes over me, there may be a dry sob. Why? Why does it have to be so hard? Eventually I start breathing again, my eyes focus on you.

Never I say before I’m ready to speak. It’s a painful word. I want to come so much. It’s a painful effort, fighting back against the waves. My voice betrays me. There’s resignation.

You lift my legs, letting them rest against your shoulders. Again I tense. This is one way you hurt me: You will fuck me too hard, too deep. There will be too much pain. When you fuck me like this, sometimes I can’t stop myself from trying to protect myself, sometimes I do what I never do and my hands move to push you away. I grab the blanket, the pillow, something to hold on to in anticipation of the pain and there it is.

I wince every time you push into me too deep and too hard. The pain makes me want to jump out of my body and go some other place. My fingers lock onto the blanket, but my grip loosens and my hands come up protectively.

How hard should I fuck you? you ask. I’m on fire, this is a different edge, cutting, tearing, and I can’t stand it. Do I need you to stop? Can I bear more? I think I need you to stop, but my hands are still, I can keep them from pushing against you. Maybe I need you to stop I think and then I hear myself: Harder. This is how I know I don’t need you to stop, I have yet more to give you. This is how I tell you. Somewhere along the way the pain breaks over me like a wave and suddenly there’s the edge again, I stare at you, incredulous, every time, at how seamlessly the excruciating pain transforms into arousal speeding towards another orgasm. Stop!

Sometimes you don’t stop, sometimes instead of stopping you speed up. Come you tell me and I do. But not today. You stop and I crash down from the edge, hard. Anticipation transforms into memory. Do not pass go, do not come. Go directly to frustration. Both pain and orgasm leave a slowly fading afterglow.

You let my legs down from your shoulders and I grip my thighs, spreading myself open for you. You drive me to the edge again, relentlessly. Stop I say, and you do, every time. You stop just long enough for me to not lose my grip and give in to the pull, never long enough for me to catch my breath, to come down from the edge. You keep me suspended on a string, weaving me into a net of orgasms that I don’t have.

It hurts I tell you. Good you say and you fuck me more. Because you’re so tense? you ask. I nod. Words have become hard. How much should it hurt? you ask. More I say.

You turn me around, my knees tucked under me. I try to lift my hips to accommodate you, but you push me down. This, again, will hurt. This I couldn’t do in the beginning. No matter how I tried, my hips moved up, turning slightly, to ease the pain. You’d push me down again. Fucking me is not enough. You need to hurt me like I need you to hurt me.

I grip my ankles, trying to help control the involuntary movement of my hips by pulling myself down. And then the pain is back. You can’t see my face now. This helps. You like seeing my pain, but I measure how much of it I tell you about in my eyes. Now I don’t measure. I hide my face in the pillows.

How deep should I fuck you? you ask and I respond before I get the chance to think better of it: Deeper I gasp. Sometimes I have to push out the word through clenched teeth, tasting its gritty substance, a fragile consistency just barely soft enough to squeeze it out. The word hangs in the air, frightening me. When you hurt me I need you to stop and when you stop I need you to hurt me more.

You pull one leg out from under me, turning me to my side. This too hurts, but less, this pain is bearable. I’m getting sore I tell you. How sore should you be? you ask. More I say, and you fuck me more. Now I have what I was wanting earlier: Every stroke hurts, it never stops hurting.

The soreness mingles with the pain of you still thrusting into me too deep, too hard and there’s another edge and I open my mouth to tell you to stop but before the word comes out of my mouth, you pull out of my pussy and you come. I watch you come while my impeding orgasm once again melts away, leaving behind nothing but tension.

And every time you grab a shirt to clean us up, both you and me, and I wish you wouldn’t. But usually the sheets are someone elses and getting them to clean up our mess would be less than courteous so I don’t say anything.

You lie down behind me and hold me. My hips rock against you, your relaxed body a vivid contrast to the tension in my pussy. How tense should you be? you ask. More I say, always more. And we go to sleep.

sadisticgames:

How long has it been?

It seems like an eternity. 

The vibe and plug alternate, 

first one sending vibrations through your body, 

then the other, but never enough…

never enough to push you over the edge…

you want to cum so badly don’t you? 

Will I allow it?

I didn’t yesterday did I?

Nor the day before that. 

How long has it been?

A few days? A week?

And each day you find yourself here again…

Why am I doing this?

I want your need to consume you, 

to devour the rational thoughts in your head, 

for your soaking wet cunt to become the focus of your existence…

Are we there yet do you think?

Perhaps another week or two of this every morning and every night…

A Day of Fun

submissivedreamer:

I guess I wrote this some time back. Found it in my email. Enjoy, all!

I blink as my eyes adjust to the light. As I stretch, I turn to you. You are still asleep, with a soft smile playing upon your lips. I glance down and see a bulge in your boxers, then smile, knowing you are dreaming of me.

I press a fleeting kiss to your lips, then move down to your cock. I release it from its confinement and flick my tongue along the tip. I know you are awake now, and although I cannot see a flaw in your impeccable facade, I know that you are battling the urge to thrust your cock into my mouth.

I oblige to your unspoken request, taking it into my mouth. I begin bouncing up and down, taking more of it into my mouth with each bounce. Eventually, it is all in. Coughing and gagging, I press a kiss to your stomach with your entire cock inside of me.

You let out a groan and thrust your cock into my mouth, and I open wide, accepting the morning gift you rewarded my body with. You caress my hair and say, “Good Girl. I hope you slept well, My Pet, because this weekend shall be taxing for you.”

I let out an eager squeal and move up your lips, happily kissing you. You knead my ass while we kiss, interrupting with firm slaps that make me yelp against your lips.

You guide me to my hands and knees, slipping a collar around my neck, and attaching a leash to it. You then firmly slap my ass before tugging my leash and leading me out of our room.

You take us to the kitchen and tie my leash to a chair as you cook. I watch you, greedily taking in the sights of your body as you make scrambled eggs and toast for us.

When finished, you place it into two plates for us. I notice that for mine, you’ve cut the toast into bite sized pieces, and look at you curiously. You place me in my chair, then tie my elbows and wrists behind my back. You look at my, now pushed out, breasts for a minute and squeeze them both, then return to your seat and begin eating.

I lower my lips to the plate and begin eating, and you smile at me lovingly, whispering, “Good Pet.”

When you’ve finished eating, I’ve barely made a dent in mine. So you take each piece in your fingers and begin feeding me. I lick and suck your fingers clean after each bite, enjoying being fed.

After breakfast, we return to our room. You lay me upon the bed and blindfold me, heightening the rest of my senses. You slip a ring gag into my mouth, wanting to still hear my moans while keeping my mouth available, but not wanting to hear my requests today.

My wrists are tied off to the bedposts. My legs are bent, with my ankles tied to my thighs. My knees are then tied to the bed posts, as well, spreading my legs and lifting my ass, giving you access to everything.

You lay over me, giving my lips a soft, fleeting kiss, before licking a trail down to each nipple. You kiss, bite, lick, and suck on each one, rolling the other between your fingers as you do, making them nice and hard. My moans are heard incoherently through my gag. Without breaking your hold on my nipples, you reach to our side table and grab three clothespins. Immediately, both of my nipples are clamped, and I buck and writhe, moaning from the pain.

You then ask me to stick my tongue out, and I oblige. The final clothespin goes upon my tongue. I moan, and feel drool trickling down from my mouth. You smile, knowing my breasts will soon be coated.

You then reach down, caressing my wet pussy and firm, spankable ass. Then, suddenly, you slap my pussy, right over my clit, very hard. I scream and my body jumps towards you, everything clenching. Your slaps begin to rain down upon me: my ass and pussy being your willing victims.

I moan and quiver over the bed, enjoying the sweet sting of each slap. You continue my spanking, unwilling to stop until my ass and pussy glow red.

Finally, my exquisite torture ends. You smile, lightly caressing the redness, telling me, “Good Girl, you endured that so well.” I moan, aching from your fingers, and my empty pussy aching far more.

You reach to the side table and take something. Immediately, I feel a cold ice cube being skated over my heated skin. You chuckle softly, “Pet, your skin is so warm right now, the ice cube is melting rapidly.” I moan in response, the cool water both soothing and numbing the area.

You go through a few more ice cubes upon my ass and pussy, and I begin to moan in pain from my freezing skin. You tell me, “Ready to take this one step further, Pet?” And I moan, bucking my hips.

I hear a match striking, and immediately begin moving my hope up and down, moaning loudly. As I feel the candle wax hit my frozen skin, I groan loudly. More and more drops fall upon my skin and I whimper. When a drop falls upon my exposed clit, I screech. You reach up to caress my breast, whispering, “Shhh, my beloved. Endure, endure.”

A few more drops fall upon me, and I moan, shaking very much. You reach up to caress me, and with that, bury your cock inside my pussy. As you begin pounding into me, you release my tongue from its clothespin, and undo my gag. I weakly whimper, “Thank you, Sir.”

I bring my hips up to meet yours each time you pound into me. Harder and harder still, as my moans fill the room. Soon, I begin to beg, “Please, please Sir, let me…”

You pound into me for a few more moments, then say, “Cum now, my Pet.” And while you say that, you yank the clothespins off my nipples, sending pain searing through them.

I scream from the pleasure and pain, and cum begins to gush out of me. I whimper and tremble in your arms, and you continue pounding…

With a loud moan, your cum pours inside my pussy, as your thrusts slow down inside of me. Slowly, you pull out of me. You bring your dripping cock up to my lips, and I know what to do.

I bathe your cock with my tongue, cleaning it all off. I then softly suck on it, feeling it hardening again in my mouth.

You pull away from my mouth, then lay on your stomach and look at my pussy. Your tongue flattens against it, licking up my slit. You caress my sensitive clit with your tongue for a while, until I am quaking in your arms once more, begging to cum. You pull back and roughly slap my pussy, saying, “No.”

I moan in frustration, and you silence me by shoving your cock in my mouth. You tell me, “You have three minutes to make me cum, or you’re in trouble.”

I begin sucking with all of my might, bobbing my head up and down. My tongue swirls around it as I take it deeper and deeper into my mouth, sucking so very hard.

After a few minutes of sucking, you cum into my mouth, groaning. You allow me to swallow it all, before you pull out. I eagerly ask you, “Sir, did I make the time?”

You chuckle and respond with, “Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds, Love.”

I bite my lip as you reach up and take away my blindfold. You tell me, “I want to see the craze in your eyes.” My eyes widen as I take in this piece of information.

You slowly move back down to my pussy, shoving your tongue in, licking me out. You alternate between licking inside of me and sucking on my clit, until I am quivering once more.

You pull away then, and shove a vibrator inside me. You tell me, “No cumming. Not until I say.” And my hips buck in frustration.

You gather the juices from my leaking pussy, soaking your fingers. Slowly you begin easing a finger inside my ass. You ease it in and out, and I moan. You begin easing in a second finger, and I cry out.

You turn the vibrator up one level and continue easing in two fingers. When they finally go in easily, you begin moving them back and forth. I begin moaning, pleading to be allowed to cum, unable to handle the sensations.

You shake your head, continuing to slowly fuck my ass. Finally, you rip the vibrator out of me, your hands pulling away, too, and sink your cock into me. You tell me to cum, and I scream, erupting all over your cock.

You continue to pound me, over and over, with a seemingly endless amount of stamina. You rip another two orgasms out of my body, before finally, you groan, cumming inside of me, pulling one more orgasm out of my quivering body.

And with that, you pull out of me. Grabbing a towel, you clean us both off, before releasing my ropes. I moan in pain, and you gently massage my wrists, knees, ankles…

You then scoop my quivering body up into your arms and carry me into the bathroom. You run a warm bubble bath and lay us both in it. I close my eyes, relaxing against your chest, as you whisper sweet nothings into my ear.

You gently clean off each part of my body, and your own, before you lift us out. You wrap yourself in a towel, then slowly pat me dry with another and wrap me up. You finish drying yourself, then lift me up and carry me to our bed.

You lift a glass of water to my lips, then, when you’re sure I’m satisfied, slide into bed next to me, pulling me onto your chest.

You whisper in my ear, “My Love, My Treasure, My Gem… I’m so proud of you. You were wonderful today. I love you, so much. Rest now, my angel.”

The last thing you hear me whisper is, “I love you, Sir…” before I succumb to sleep. And in my sleep, I stay very close to you, a smile never leaving my lips.