Reading Time: 4minutes Up the stairs I go. I try to hurry, but my sore and swollen pussy revolts with every step. I am softly crying now. I feel as if I had failed you. Why didn’t I listen carefully to your instructions.
Up the stairs I go. I try to hurry, but my sore and swollen pussy revolts with every step. I am softly crying now. I feel as if I had failed you. Why didn’t I listen carefully to your instructions. I should have said, “No Master, please don’t make me cum now. Let me wait until we retire!”
Then I would have felt the softness of your caresses on my pinched and tender nipples, the beautiful fullness of your tongue in my mouth — my throat . . .
Will these gifts still be mine tonight? Will I be able to complete, at least, this session with your approval. How I will try!
I go to the closet and remove the black corset. I put it around me and fasten the hooks in front that keep it in place. The underwires at the top push my breasts up and forward, leaving them exposed and vulnerable to your touch. I leave the laces loose. You will tighten them to your satisfaction.
I quickly brush my hair and repair my mascara streaked face. A spray of cologne — your favorite fragrance, other than my own. I am ready for you now, my love.
I kneel, legs spread wide, facing the door, my face to the hard oak floor, my hands meekly folded behind my back. I wait for your footsteps. Hurry Master, please. The hour is late and I am getting so sleepy. Please, please don’t let me fall asleep!
Only once have I fallen asleep while waiting for my Master. That time he entered the room to find me in a fetal position. He woke me very gently and whispered to me not to move. Then he bound me with knotted cord and went to bed. Each time I moved that night, I moved into a new area of discomfort. The memory of that night helps me stay awake.
Finally as my knees and hips begin to get numb with the stillness of my pose, I hear his footsteps on the stairs. “Pet,” he says. Quickly as I can, I scoot forward and kiss his feet. I look up at him and he nods and smiles. I rise and walk to the foot of the bed. He puts his foot on my rump and pulls the leather laces of the corset tight . . . tighter . . . oh so tight I can hardly breath. This extension of his strong embrace surrounds my body and I become wet.
“Scoot up babe,” he says. My pulse quickens and I catch my breath. I know that he is pleased. I quickly scoot over the bedrail to the center of the bed. I lie face down, my palms touching, and my arms stretched above my head.
“Not tonight, pet. Turn over.” I shudder, knowing that the session tonight will be very intense, but I quickly obey. He comes to the head of the bed and ties my outstretched wrists together, looping the cord through the head rail and tying it securely. My eyes wander to the blindfold on the night stand.
“No blindfold tonight,” he chuckles, “I want you to see.” He fastens my legs, one ankle to each strap, to the sides of the wide foot rail. I moan as I feel the familiar sensation of tendons and groin muscles being stretched too far. My ass is raised high off the bed and my pussy is open to him and very vulnerable.
“I will use you tonight as I see fit. Do you agree?”
“Yes, Master.”
“No safeword, tonight.” My mind lurches. No safeword. I have never used the word that is between us. Master is so wise he knows when I have travelled far enough. Why, then, is he denying me use of the word? If I disagree, what will happen? Dare I ask?
“Yes Master,” I decide, in a trembling voice. “No safeword.” Then I see it. Master holds a short, single tailed whip with one knot tied in its tip. I gasp, but I can’t breath too deeply because of the tightness of the corset. The air seems to catch in my chest pushing my breasts forward to meet the sting of the whip. First the left nipple, then the right. My gasp turns into a squeal of pain.
“What do you say, whore?”
“Thank you Master. Thank you. Please whip my slutty tits.” The words come out ragged and broken as I fight back the tears.
“Good slut,” he says, “Slutty tits, I like that,”he laughs. “Good.”
Good. The one word that without fail makes me wet. The whip falls again and again. First one nipple and then the other. My tits are on fire, but my cunt burns with a stronger need. I squeal in agony each time the hard little knot bites at my nipples. I close my eyes to absorb the pain — this erotic extension of my Master’s touch.
“I told you to watch. Why can’t you obey?” Master says in frustration. I open my eyes just in time to see the knot descending. I scream as the whip bites into my clit, my hole, my ass. One, two, three. One, two, three. The whip waltzes over my cunt nd ass. My screams and sobs provide the melody for this strange music. Three measures, then four, then five.
My body rockets towards an explosion. “Master, please! I’m gonna cum.”
The whip stops. Master inserts too fingers into my swollen cunt just to be sure I am being truthful. My cunt muscles relax at his touch. I have to hold back my desire. I am so close to cumming.
Master looks into my eyes and smiles. “Oh my little servant, you please me very well. Tell your Master what you really want.”
“Oh Master, please fuck me. I so want to feel your big cock deep within me. Your fingers and tongue exploring my body — my mouth, my ass!”
Master loosens my feet and gently begins massaging my thighs and my groin, rubbing and soothing my slit and my aching cunt. Fingers deep in my pussy and ass, spreading the warmth of my pain thru my body. Slowly he enters me and with tenderness and love, brings me to the end of my Fantasy.
Coleen is a writer, photographer and film maker at Wasteland and Sssh.com.
Here at BDSMCafe.com, she is editor and curator of this comprehensive library of BDSM fiction, informational articles and other educational features that date back to the early days of the internet in 1996 when the site was first launched.
