Whatever You Want · Part 2 (2/4)
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"Use both hands to make it quicker", he finished. I did so and quickened my pace. "Very good", he said softly. "Now whip your sex".
I reversed my grip on the leash handle, so that now it was pointing back towards me.
Slowly I lowered the lash into position, feeling my way down my left thigh and between my legs with the stiff leather handle. I flinched as my search finally found its mark as the whip just barely touched my lower lips. I knew now that I had the proper range and positioning.
I lowered the handle downward and began slowly waggling it. I gathered all of my resolve and quickened my pace to match that which I had reached before. I could feel the breeze of the briskly moving whip on my exposed mound. Despite the fact that my satin mask blinded me, I still gripped my eyes tightly closed. I could feel myself tensing every muscle that I could as I slowly, deliberately moved the quickly flicking leather upwards. Finally not being able to take the pressure of the waiting anymore, I jerked my hands upward. The first crack of the leather onto my unprotected sex, sounded like a rifle shoot.
At first, I guess because of the shock, I didn’t feel anything. Then I did feel it! A loud pained, "OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW", escaped my lips.
My whole body jerked upwards from the blow. Somehow I managed to continue the quick motion, slamming the stiff leather up against my tender lips again and again and again. I found myself precariously balanced in the toes of my shoes only. The pain had literally blasted me out of the heels of my shoes, as my body coursed upwards trying vainly to escape the punishment that I was inflicting upon myself. In a far off way
I could sense my precarious situation and knew that my ballet training as a youth was the only thing keeping me still on my feet.
“OOOOOoooooWWWWWWwwwwww", I continued to wail louder and longer. The pain was so intense that
I had lost all sense of what was going on, I couldn’t even think enough to stop myself from continuing to lash my poor abused sex. After what seemed an eternity, I felt a strong hand push down my wildly out of control appendages. "You may stop now", said my master in a quavering voice. Even he seemed to have been effected by my performance.
my senses returned I dropped the leash from exhausted shaking hands.
My body all of a sudden went limp. I would have fallen to the floor in a heap if my master had not scooped me up in strong arms. I moaned softly as I buried my head in his chest. My husband / master sat down as he soothed me like a small child. Running his fingers through my hair and saying those soft comforting words that we use on our children when they have been hurt. I am not sure how long we remained like that. All of a sudden I realized that I had almost fallen asleep as I felt my husband / master surge upwards out of the chair with me in his arms.
carried me a short ways and deposited me on a table like surface.
I could easily determine that he had laid me down on the dinning room table, because the classical music was louder (the stereo is in the dinning room) and because we had not gone far enough to be in the kitchen. I was in a sitting position on the table, with my hands on either side of me.
I could feel that the white cotton tablecloth was in place, but I could also feel that a thin mattress had been added beneath the material.
Curiosity made me push down on the mattress and allowed me to deduct that it was one of the foam egg crate type palettes, which we used for overflow guests.
think you are in need of a well deserved rest Lady Andrea", my master informed me. He placed black satin gloves in my hands adding, "Please put these back on". I did so. "Now, if you would be so kind as to roll over on your stomach, I will make you comfortable in my own personalized way". I could feel his hands guide me into a lying down position in the center of the table. He then pulled each of my hands behind my back. I felt a double loop of rope encircle my satin-sheathed wrists. The rope, probably our standard white nylon type, was wrapped around my wrists another couple of times and then passed between my hands, tightening the ropes so that they pressed the fabric of my gloves hard into my soft flesh. I wiggled my hands slightly, proving that I was both securely bound and that my circulation had not been cut off.
Next a similar double loop was applied to my legs, just above the knees.
More rope was wrapped around them as they were pulled inexorably drawn together. He had to force up though my legs to complete his figure eight this time, but he did so with ease. I knew that this particular place on my body was especially pleasing to my master. He has told me numerous times that he loves to see the contrast in colors as the white rope covers the red stockings. Also above the knee and around the thigh are thicker and sturdier parts of the leg, allowing him to really tighten the ropes so that the loops dig deeply into my smooth supple flesh.
Raising my ankles off the table, so that my legs were bent at the knee, perpendicular to the table, he began to work on my ankles then something changed his mind. His hands fingered my black pumps. They had become loose on my feet, without my weight to keep my foot arched into the high heels; the heels were nearly ready to pop off of my feet. I was not in anyway trying to dislodge them, despite their discomfort, but my feet were finding it hard to maintain the necessary arch.
"Hmmmm", my master intoned. "These shoes do not seem to want to stay in place.
I suppose that I could bind them in place with some cords, but you are supposed to be resting… Hmmmmm". He left his thought unfinished.
I heard the doors open and close as he left the room. I did not try to escape or change my position in anyway though, because I knew that he might be testing me. He may not have even left the room, but only made it sound that way.
returned shortly, with an opening and closing of doors. I felt him remove my patent leather heels and heard them placed on the table.
Soon I felt soft supple leather being slid onto and around my feet.
He pulled the leather slipper down over my heel and ran his hands over it to make sure that it was securely in place. I wiggled my toes in pleasure. Judging by my outfit colors I could bet that these were my black leather slippers. They were flat soled, soft and yummy with a little bow at the mouth of the slipper. The second slipper was slid into place and I gave a little smile. My master finished off his work on my ankles, with more of the nylon rope surrounding my red-sheathed gams.
master is a master of rope work and very meticulous about making his ties neat, effective and as he has told me many times, pleasing to the eye.
I knew, without seeing them that his ties would represent figure eight’s.
Four to six cords surrounding the appendages to be bound and two strands pulling their brethren tightly together to form the center of the eight.
Always with the final tie being made out of sight, so that only the taped wrapped ends of the nylon rope showed.
Lifting my middle off the table, I felt him add an cinch rope to my waist.
With a little effort he threaded the ends of the rope between my upper thighs and then slid it under the rope in the middle of my back.
As he tugged on the rope, I could feel the twin strands dig into my abused lower mouth. Grasping my legs at the ankles my master guided them back towards my rear end. Using the remainder of the rope he lashed my ankles to the crotch rope. When he released the pressure that he had applied while holding my ankles in place, the real trial started.
My ankles pulled away from my butt of their own accord. I could feel the waist rope on my back pulled downward as the ropes across my sex tightened.
“Oh, damn” I swore softly.
wasn’t finished with me yet though, as I felt him bind my wrist and ankles together. This position, for the uninitiated, is called a hog-tie.
Unexpectedly I felt my wrists and ankles being raised towards the ceiling.
He must have put a rope through the chain links that held up the chandelier.
He stopped just when I could start to feel the strain in my shoulders.
It was not painful just a touch uncomfortable. What it meant though was that my so-called rest time wouldn’t exactly be restful. I couldn’t even roll onto my side, which was my first plan when I realized I was being hog-tied. Now I would be forced to remain in this position, which despite the foam mattress meant that my breasts were being mashed into the table. This compounded with the ropes digging into my sex, the strain on my shoulder blades and the tightness of my red satin corset, made it less than easy to breathe.
"Aaahhhh, good", my master said lightly. "I can see that you are now ready for your rest." Lifting my head he slid a small pillow under my chin.
I turned my head side ways to take advantage of the cushion. He paused for a minute as if looking over my predicament, then continued, "Are you comfortable enough, for your rest period my dear?"
I could have been a good little slave girl and said demurely, "Yes, master".
But I had been thinking about just how uncomfortable I was and I just couldn’t keep my big mouth shut. "Ohhhh, yes master", I said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "I am just sooooo comfortable".
didn’t say a word to my outburst. The next thing I felt was him roughly squeezing the sides of my mouth and forcing it open. Hard rounded rubber was being pushed against my teeth. My mouth was forced open further and further as more pressure was applied until finally the large rubber ball popped behind my teeth. The gag was roughly buckled into place at the back of my neck. "I had been saving this little goodie for later in the evening", my master informed me harshly. "But, I can see that its therapeutic value is needed now. Please enjoy your rest." With that my master turned my head, so that I was again lying with the side of my face on the pillow, and then departed.
This was the biggest ball gag in our collection. I knew that my bright red lips would be stretched to their widest extent around the large orange ball. I could feel the leather strap biting deeply into the corners of my mouth. It wasn’t really necessary to bind the strap this tightly, because nothing except a strong pull was going to get that ball out from behind my teeth. But, I knew I deserved the added punishment.
I lay there with nothing to do but think. I wasn’t going to be able to nod off in this hog-tied suspension position. Especially not with the damning gag! The hog-tie, the corset, the bonds and even the crotch rope were all merely uncomfortable, but a ball gag that big is simply painful.
My jaw was already aching and I had only had it in place for only a few minutes. I worked to shift my thoughts elsewhere.
Countless things went through my mind, but time and again I kept coming back to my pussy whipping. (I don’t like using that term, but it seems appropriate here.) It was impossible not to think about that area of my body because with every little shift of my muscles, the ropes in my crotch would roughly rub this tender area. There was something that happened back there that had never happened before. The unbelievable pain had pushed me to a state beyond the normal; it was if I was on a drugged high.
Maybe it was an adrenaline rush, I don’t know. But I had felt as if I were out of my body. Like I was two separate entities.
One half of me was whipping myself mechanically, in it’s beyond pain state and the other half was experiencing the amazing pain of each lash of the stiff leather.
I know what pain is. I have born three children, all of them naturally, and there is nothing that compares to that type of unceasing intense pain.
This however was different. This pain, in some strange way had made me feel… good. I have never taken drugs, but I would suppose that this is how someone on cocaine would feel. Jesus, Mary and Joseph what have I done to myself? (Yes, I do believe in God, very much.
No, I do not have any conflicts with bondage, S&M and God. I feel that as long as our marriage is monogamous, then anything that transpires between wife and husband is entirely up to us.) Heck, I hardly even drink and here I have found myself, unbelievably affected by a different kind of drug… pain.
Part 2
I had always approached bondage and S&M as a role to be played. Something outside of myself. It wasn’t what I wanted per say, I participated by being someone other than me. I had never done or even thought of doing anything like this prior to my marriage, but I have always liked sex and have a strong desire to please my partner. My husband / master led me into his world during our engagement and my final year in college.
He is five years my senior and very persuasive. A look through a couple of "Love Bondage" magazines and a long talk got me to agree to role-play the submissive female. Now, though, I had to wonder; had I gone past role-playing? Was it really me that wanted to be the subjugated and punished submissive?
musings were interrupted as the French door opened and closed, once again.
As he came closer to me, I thought that I could smell the fresh smell of soap emanating from him. Yes, that and a soft cologne. He must have taken a shower. A cold one I’ll bet, I smirked to myself.
I would have smiled, but the ball gag refused my unconscious attempt.
master put his hands upon me. Sliding them caressing over my black and red satin of my corset. They traveled up and down my sides, bending inward at the imposed reduction in my waist size. The tight smooth satin conveyed his touch to me as if it were directly on my skin.
He slid his hands under my breasts, cupping them with his warm hands.
He rubbed and gently squeezed my mounds, making me squirm a little in delight.
The thumb and forefinger of each hand began to twirl the tips of my nipples, sending burst of warm excitement coursing through my body. "Uuuummm", I moaned happily around my gag.
Shortly his hands moved away. I next felt him rubbing my thighs and legs.
His hands ran over my stocking clad legs and ankles, paying particular attention to the ropes surrounding them. His hands caressed the areas where the rope and leg meet, over and over again. The soft touches made my heart pound and began to make me happy that the bindings were there.
As he played with my ankles, I moaned again in pleasure, and wiggled my feet happily. My feet and my fingers were about the only thing that
I could move. I continued to flex my red stocking clad feet in the soft supple black leather to convey my happiness. What a sight I must have made. Lying hog-tied on a table with large orange ball gag in my mouth must have made me look like a suckling pig with the apple in its mouth waiting to be eaten.
His hands played their tune up and down my out stretched arms. Playing with the ropes at my wrist and then gliding down my shinny black gloves until his hands rested on my strained shoulder blades. He softly rubbed the abused blades and my shoulders in general.
"UUUUuuuuueeeeewwww", I moaned. It felt so good! This coupled with the fact that all of these movements of mine were adding to my stimulation as the ropes sliding across my vagina added their own caress. His fingers lingered over the laces of my corset, pushing slightly against one and pulling slightly at another. His hands slid upwards until they reached my neck, which he gently rubbed with his strong firm digits. I could feel him working with the buckle of my gag and felt the pull of the leather straps at the corner of my mouth slacken. He inserted his fingers into the corners of my mouth and around the ball. With a slow and steady pulling motion he began to pull the ball outwards. I had once stood in front of a mirror and practiced putting this ball gag in and taking it out, and
I knew at this point that all of my pearly white teeth were showing.
Finally the ball surged outward from behind my teeth. I worked my jaw a bit, trying to relieve the cramps that had formed there.
He softly massaged the sides of my face, with my aching cheeks and jaw receiving extra attention.
Then
I felt something else rubbing up against the sides of my cheeks.
Something warm and firm. I next felt a drop of warm liquid touch my cheek. Now I realized that this was his manhood rubbing up against my face and that was his pre-cum moisturizing my face. He continued to rub my face with his rod as it hardened and lengthened.
believe that you know what is required of you Lady Andrea", my master informed me. "Please begin". I was to give him a blowjob, yet I could hardly move my head. In the position I was in I had to accept that my master would handle all of the movements. While this let me relax and let him come (no pun intended) to me, I also realized that I would have absolutely no control. He would be the only one with control over how deep and quickly he would invade my mouth and throat!
started by holding my head upright, with my chin resting on the pillow.
Blackness continued to enfold me due to the blindfold, but I could tell that he had turned sideways to offer me the length of his cock to lick.
I did so with gusto, licking my way from his pubic hair up to the cap of his hardened penis. He moved my head from side to side, like he was using an old style typewriter. I on the other hand, felt like I was gumming an ear of corn. I added little nips now and again in between my tongue bath.
I could feel his penis shift direction to the front of me, and then felt him again begin to thrust his manhood back and forth against my cheeks. He alternated from cheek to cheek and I did my best to catch him with my wildly lapping tongue as he passed my mouth. Soon though I could feel him pushing directly towards my mouth. Pursing my lips I gave his hard cap a noisy kiss. He pressed relentlessly forward, pushing my lips aside. He stopped when he had about two inches in my warm mouth and began short backward and forward strokes. I alternated between swirling my tongue around his pole and sucking it. I swear that I could taste the lipstick that I must have left on his rods head on the outward part of his strokes.
Gradually he began to invade me with more and more of his raging hard on. This forced me into a purely sucking role as he was now going beyond the base of my tongue. His thickness was spreading my lips just like the ball gag had and I could just imagine the sight of my fiery red lips traveling up and down his pole. His strokes became quicker and deeper.
A couple of times his manhood jumped upwards of its own pre-cum volition, banging against the roof of my mouth. I took deep breaths and fought off the urge to choke when he began to hit the back of my throat.
He now had me doing full deep throats. On each inward stroke my nose was being mashed into his bristly pubic hair. With each outward stroke, when only two inches or so remained in my mouth, I swirled my tongue about his head.
I began to feel his rod jerking uncontrollably on his downward stroke and knew that this meant he was very close to cumming. I tried to pull my head back so that I would receive his load in my mouth or better yet on my face. My master had other plans. He pulled my head towards him and thrust himself forward, achieving maximum penetration. At almost that exact instant he exploded against the back of my throat.
I gagged a little at first, but then calmed myself down. The flow of hot liquid coming from him seemed to go on forever, again and again I swallowed and swallowed to keep it from leaking out of my mouth. I was forced to accepted shot after burning shot of cum, as it splattered against the back of my throat and seemed to flow right into my stomach.
Slowly he released his death like grip on my head and again began slower more measured strokes. This allowed me to clean all of the residual creamy cum off of his emptied organ. He eventually pulled out and I gave his penis head another quick kiss as it left. A few moments of quiet passed. I once again realized that the CD was playing soft classical music in the background.
I felt my master begin to loosen my bonds. First the rope to the ceiling was released letting my tired arms fall down against my back. Then the cords on my crotch were untied from my ankles and quickly afterwards the rest of my bonds were removed. My master helped me back up into a sitting position as I rubbed my aching wrists. They were not rope burned, due to the protection of the satin gloves, but they did throb all the same. Next he guided me off of the table and onto my feet.
I swayed slightly; probably do to my continued disorientation provided by my blindfold. My slippers allowed me to adjust my balance quickly, though. He must have removed the leash at some point, because instead of using it to lead me through the room, he gently held my arm and guided me to the doors.
upstairs and refresh yourself, my dear lady", my husband / master said softly. “Take a shower and then dress as instructed by the envelope
I have left on your bureau. You will then return down here for dinner".
While he was talking, I could feel him working on the laces on my corset.
Soon I felt the vice like pressure ease up. Moving my hands upward to my head, I intended to remove the satin night mask. "NO", Fellows said forcefully. "Do not remove your blindfold until you have passed out of my sanctum". He then opened the doors and guided me over the threshold.
When
I heard the doors close behind me, I removed my blindfold. I blinked as the waning light of late afternoon filtered into the house. That made me realize that there were windows in the area. My quickly adjusting eyes focused on the gauzy black wrap, which had been placed across the banister.
I briskly donned it and began my trek up the stairs. This was not as easy as it sounds, because my lower lips were still swollen and sore.
Each time I had to stretch to reach the next step was extremely uncomfortable.
I made it, in due course and removed my garments in order to enjoy a long hot shower.
I emerged feeling refreshed and actually a little invigorated. I had rubbed soothing aloe lotion, into my water glistening vagina and over my bruised buttocks. Then I used more of the cream to moisturize the rough spots caused by the rope bonds. The lines that the tight rope always leaves on my skin had even faded a little. Not to mention I was starting to really feel hungry. Returning to my bedroom I opened the waiting envelope.
This time it was to be a royal blue bustier, matching crotch less lace panties, powder blue stockings, white frilly finger gloves and white patent leather high heels. Except for the heels these garments were all purchased as a matched set, so it wasn’t too hard to bring it all together.
I dressed much the same as before. The bustier was ribbed and provided three sets of hooks, for each fastening at the back, so that you could make it literally skin tight. I was proud that only at the very top and bottom did I have to use the second set of hooks; otherwise I was using the tightest hooks in every case. This was one of those garments that didn’t leave much to the imagination. It was mainly made of a transparent nylon mesh, which was highlighted by the heavy blue ribs and the lacy floral design built into the mesh. The cups that held my breasts were once again basically a half-cup bra that pushed and shaped my heavy mounds.
you may have guessed these were brought on purpose, by my husband / master and myself. Despite the fact that I did aerobics for thirty to forty-five minutes a day, after three children and all of the milk I have carried….
Well gravity had finally won its battle. I had talked to him about breast implants and he was definitely amenable, but coming up with the five or six grand was an entirely different matter. Therefore, push up type bra’s were my best alternative. Besides if the bustier fit properly, as this one most definitely did, it did a wonderful job of making my breasts look as firm as those of a young girl.
