The Anticipation of Waiting for Sir.
You stand naked in the hotel room, blindfolded, your hands behind your back, breasts exposed and your pussy moist with anticipation. You hear the door click open. The first thing you realise is that you can smell my scent, a cologne of sandalwood mixed with something lighter. You had sent me a pair of your silky panties, moist with your excitement and I had sent you a handkerchief liberally doused with the scent, but this is different, mixing with my own aroma.
Your feel my presence close by. Not just the approach of my footsteps but the change in the acoustics of the room that happens when another body is near. Deprived of sight, your other senses are heightened. You hear me drop a heavy bag on the floor, and a zip pulled slowly, a soft drop of heavy ropes onto the fluffy hotel duvet. Your knees feel weak and your heart beats like a trapped thrush in an abandoned house. Your flight instinct is surging in you. You could just leave now, say you have changed your mind, that you don’t want it. You know I will just let you get dressed and walk out. I never do anything to you that you haven’t asked for, sometimes begged for. You know what to expect but you don’t know if you can take it.
You can’t move. You don’t want to. You want to have the control taken away, to lose yourself in the moment of pain or ecstasy, to have all thoughts driven from your mind by the things I do to you. You have followed my instructions and had your pussy waxed three days prior to our arranged meeting. It was sore for the first day, and very red, but that subsided and now it was soft and smooth and fresh, just the way I wanted. It excited you to do this for me, for me to see that you had accepted your role and would embrace that role as my submissive. You know what to expect, the limits we have set together, the precautions we have taken to make you feel comfortable in this role. Part of the excitement is finding out how far I will push you, but it is so important for you to know that anything I do is part of my role as your dominant. Submission is your gift and in return I want to be everything I can for you, knowing that afterwards will be different, tender and caring, soft and embrassing, kissing away the tears and the bruises.
“Examination”, I order. This is your cue to sit on the bed and raise your legs, open them and wait for my inspection. You feel my breath on your loins as I inhale you.
“Have you been masturbating without my permission?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry sir, I….”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses”.
My thumbs part your lips and dip just inside, seeking you moisture. I smooth it over the outside, feeling the smoothness of the waxing. I lift your legs onto my shoulder and examine your anus.
“You have redeemed yourself a little. Your condition is acceptable. Stand”
You struggle up to a standing position.
“Hands behind your back” I bark.
I stand close to you again. I can see your heavy breasts rise and fall as your breathing deepens. My hands trace over your shoulders, lightly and tenderly, down your back and over your buttocks. You feel the first rope slip over your head and around your shoulders. I slowly form and chest harness around your back and shoulders, leaving loops for later. You feel my hand lift you right breast and then rough hessian rope slipping turn after turn around it. It feels tight and strange, exaggerating the size and shape. I tie the left one in a similar fashion. Your large nipples and full, dark areola are perfect for my clamps and you feel the nipple screws tighten just enough to hold them in place. Painful, but not too painful.
“Legs” I announce.
This is your instruction to lie down again and have your leg ties applied. The rope coils around you left leg I complete the pillar tie, your ankle strung close to the back of your thigh. I repeat the arrangement on your right leg. Left prone on the bed, you hear me walk around you, the zip of my flies pulled down. You open your mouth. You feel me kneel on the bed, my weight depressing the mattress. You can smell my salty prick and reach out your tongue for me. I pull back my foreskin, revealing the glans and the smallest bead of clear precum that flows as I anticipate your warm mouth. Your lips close around me and you hold me in your mouth, feeling me grow. I pull back and you take my testes, sucking gently.
“Stomach” I command.
You wriggle over onto your stomach but the legs ties force you to kneel, leaving your cunny gaping and your ass spread.
“Confess” I demand.
“Sir, I touched my pussy and was thinking about you cock”
I take the long shoe horn from my bag on the bed, tapping it against my hand. I swish it through the air and land a soft, back handed blow on right buttock. The next one is harder and the intensity increases. Five, six, seven until finally you cry out. One more, the hardest yet and you cry out….
“Sorry sir, I’m so sorry”
I switch to the other buttock, still back handed as it is my preferred technique and allows me to control the intensity. Six, seven, eight and you cry out again…
“Please sir, I won’t do it again…” but you know that you will.
Your chest is heaving now breathing deeply, pain flooding your buttocks and bowels. The heat in your cunt builds as your vagina contracts and relaxes with each blow. I begin to learn how long to wait between blows… I press my thumb to your anus and push. I pinch the flesh of your buttock and twist until you cry out loudly….
“You are my master sir, my only master”.
I relent, knowing that you have reached your limit here. I reach underneath you and tighten the nipple clamps one by one. You sob out, begging me to stop but I continue. I pinch the flesh of your breast and twist again. You biteyour lips, trying to bear the agony as long as possible…..
“You are my master sir, my only master”
Again I relent. Your pussy floods, wet and aching as the pain in your buttocks and breasts combine. I roll you onto your back and push up your legs ready to drink from your offered cup. Your body shudders as lick you from anus to clitoris, sucking in your engorged bud and applying pressure with my teeth. Your gasp and pant, breath coming fast as your crisis approaches. Just as you are about to explode in ecstasy, I stop, push up your leg further and bite hard on your left buttock. The pain heads off your orgasm but the heat builds, snakes twisting in your stomach fighting between the searing agony and the building eruption.
I release your leg ties and pull you to your feet, postioning you carefully and lifting your blindfold. In the full length mirror, you can see me standing behind your naked form. I am still in my trousers and shirt, my prick standing proud of my open zipper. Your breast look huge, standing out grotesquely but beautifully, their weight captured in my ropes, the nipples elongated by the clamps. There are red marks and bruises on the exposed parts, and teeth marks. I turn you slightly by the shoulders and you can see you red buttocks and welts where the shoehorn had landed. Standing behind , you I run my hands softly over your shoulders and arms, along the sides of your breasts and down over your buttocks and thighs. I gently kiss the back of your neck and press my fingers over your pubic mound. You shudder as your orgasm takes you by surprise, twisting your head to kiss me deeply.
“Good girl”, I whisper softly as we break apart. |
