Nov 172008
 

SwelteringCelt has drummed up a lil thing called Microfantasy Monday, and this week I think I can contribute something half-assed ;) The point to the microfantasy is to pick a snapshot….a moment in time and not the whole fantasy. Paint the picture as you wish.

The theme for this week: “There is an ass and it is on display.”

Well now….



I can hear the murmurs of people around me but I am not paying attention to them. My wrists are bound in front of my body. My upper half is draped over a hard surface that is just above waist-high; my bound arms stretched out in front of me, my feet only barely touching the floor. My skirt thrown up to expose my ass. I feel his pocketknife at my hip. He slices off my panties…..my good black lace ass-framing panties! Damnit! He has the option of his hand, or my new leather paddle. I pray for the hand, as I believe it will not be as hard of a whack as the paddle. He runs a finger down the crack of my ass and dips into my slit for a brief second; this attempt to distract me works. I am off guard when I hear and feel the crack of the leather paddle. A split second later my highpitched yelp is also heard. Short, succinct, loud. Both the crack and my yelp.

Oct 092008
 

Before his lips ever touched mine, our first sexual contact was his hand firmly wrapped around my throat. Followed by his pelvis pressing to mine, trapping me against the wall. He stared me down until I broke eye contact; slowly but quickly his free hand snaked around behind my head, grabbed a fistful of hair, and forcefully pulled. My head went back just by a bit, as much as the wall allowed; it forced me to look at him again.

My heart was racing, my breathing was labored and my cunt undoubtedly wet. All this and the man hadn’t even kissed me!

But oh, that changed in short order. It was a kiss that claimed me. Consumed me. Owned me. His hand, still around my neck, gripped a little more. His fingers, still tangled in my hair, gripped a little more.

He pulled his lips away and I quietly protested; a whimper, a sigh, a flutter of eyelids closing. If I were not pinned to the wall I would not have been able to remain standing. He yanked my hair yet again and my eyes snapped open. I could now see the change in him; his jaw was tense, his eyes narrowed in lust and power.

He released me from his grip and took a step back. His palm cupped the side of my face and his thumb roughly traced my lips. One word, as a question:

“Whose?”

“Yours, Sir.”

A small half-smile turned up the corner of his lips.

His hand continued down to my breast and he sharply pulled my nipple. He held it there, wordlessly waiting for my answer, before he would let go. A wince and a sharp intake of breathe before I could say, with a tremor in my voice:

“Yours, Sir.”

His hand cupped my cunt, and I repeated. He grabbed my hips, hard, and spun me around to face the wall. To catch my balance I put both hands up, palms pressed against the cool plaster. One cheek against the wall, meaning one ear turned towards him. His hand smacked my ass hard and then slid down the center and under the curve of my cheeks. He pressed into me and growled the question again in my ear; I faltered with my answer but still told him:

“Yours….Sir.”

I felt and then heard a low rumble of a slightly sadistic chuckle from him. He smoothed my hair to the opposite side of my neck, deceptively gentle for all of 5 seconds before he grabbed a handful again at the nape of my neck. His lips assaulted the side of my neck where it meets my collarbone, the spot that makes my knees weak. He turned my head towards him a little more and his lips claimed mine yet again.

Consumed.

Breathless.

All this and we were still fully clothed…

Sep 092008
 

I was not always submissive. I once, not too long ago, explored my dominant side with a man a few years younger than me. It didn’t go well, it ended badly as predicted, and I walked away with a low confidence level. It was a crappy relationship, he was kind of a crappy person at a bad time of his life, and I walked away from the experience with little desire to return to being dominant….until recently. I’ve felt the itch again. I cannot just flip a switch and “be” one or the other with someone, I have to feel it instinctively, it is a vibe. I do not generally like men who are submissive outside of the bedroom. I do not delve deep into the Mistress role; there are many scenarios I’m just not at all into. I am merely a lusty bitch at those times….it is about my pleasure; it is about their pleasure and orgasm being under my control. However, I won’t do something that I like if the other person doesn’t. If they do not derive any pleasure, deep down, from it…I won’t bother. Even the bedroom-masochist truly gets off on whatever is done to them, no matter the pain level. It is a feeding-frenzy of cyclical lust – I get off because he’s getting off from both what I’m doing and because I get off on doing it. *grins* Still with me? Perhaps I may be doing something that he would not normally like if thought were given to it but because I clearly love it, he does too. We feed each other.

There was one other guy, and it was only one time. But I felt powerful with him. Wanted. Adored. He was into pain as much as I was into giving it. I told him orgasms would be 4:1 – 4 of mine to 1 of his (he was very much into orgasm denial and teasing). My favorite moment that night was one of pure, delicious torture for him. I had a horse crop, a rubber-tendriled whip, and of course my hand. He had just spent some time bringing me to 2 orgasms – one with his tongue and fingers, one by fucking me with a dildo-gag and using my vibrator on my clit. He had a cock-ring on all this time, and was wonderfully hard. As I dragged the rubber tendrils over his cock, and teased him mercilessly, I saw something like desperation in his eyes.

I instructed him to masturbate for me, to the point of orgasm but he was not to cross over the line, he was not to come. Within a minute or two he stopped for me, his breathing ragged, pupils dilated. I cuffed his wrists, and clipped them to his collar. I started hard, with the horse crop, making deliberate stripes on his ass. After a minute I came around in front of him and dragged a lazy flat tongue up the length of his cock, watching his knees buckle. Hard full-handed slaps across the angry red stripes came next. I kept up until both of my palms were stinging. Another long drag of my tongue ended with firm suction, his legs shook….a whisper of “please” let me know to stop, he was on the edge again. I unclipped his wrists, informing him that my quota had not yet been met. He needed to make me come another two times yet before I would end his sweet misery. And, oh yes…..for every minute it took him to get me there, 2 swipes of the whip. Anything past 10 minutes? 4 swipes of the whip per minute.

Every minute I sounded off his tally. Toys, fingers, tongue and enthusiasm got me off in 8 minutes. 16 swats. 1 more orgasm. He paused long enough to let me ride out the wave of contractions then dove in face-first to bring on orgasm #4. Another 6 minutes. Hmmm, what were we up to now? I quizzed him, testing to see if he would tell the truth. He said “36, Ma’am” – did I detect a tremor of fear in that answer?  I made him count them out. Some rapid-fire; some long and drawn out, to catch him off guard. At 20, I paused. Rubbed the dripping pre-cum into his skin, watching his eyes roll back as he let out a low growl. His cock was a deep angry red from such lengthy arousal and the cock-ring.

Every 4 swats I would come back and tease him. A harsh deep kiss. A graze of fingernails up his chest, down his chest, avoid the cock! At 36, I snuck in one final blow to make 37. Unclipped his wrists and achingly slow I smoothed the condom on. Shoved him back onto the bed and I slowly crawled over his body, poised over his cock – grabbed his face and said “Don’t you dare fucking come until I tell you to.” Oh the poor thing looked like he was in pain – oh wait, he was. I rode his cock while I held a strong vibrator to my clit. He had the look of a crazed man, as he tried to put off the tidal wave that was building.

Such a beautiful sight…..

The moment I felt my orgasm building I stared at him, caught his attention and whispered “Now”.

I have never heard such a thing. A scream/moan/growl mixed with “fuck” “damn” and who knows what else, all so male, so primal. His body twitched its final release after a full minute of this; I climbed off of him and tenderly kissed him. So. Fucking. Good.

_______________________________________________________

It felt a bit out-of-character to write this, as I’ve been mostly submissive for some time now. But it was still highly arousing to me, that evening was amazing. So arousing that I sat here with the Silver Bullet vibe buzzing away for the second half of writing this, and I came when I was done. And thank you to ScarletLotus who prodded me to post this, despite my reservations.

Sep 052008
 

Want?

No….need.

Clothes ripped from my body.

Pushed to my knees to wait.

Under your spell again.
I can’t say no to you.

Rope deftly wrapped around my chest, my shoulders, back to my arms. Binding my breasts to high, taut sensitive pieces of flesh. Binding my wrists behind my back. The final tail of rope wraps around the center knot between my breasts and acts as my leash.

Voice like quiet thunder. Words that make me blush. Words that make me wet. Words that make me throb.

Shouldn’t let you torture me so sweetly…

…Shouldn’t let you conquer me completely.

Submission washing over me like rain. I feel it, I breathe it, I taste it. An almost-tangible sensation is washing over me…like a combination of the moment just before tears, the moment just after orgasm and the deep ache of needy lust.

Painpleasurepainpleasure. They melt as one, but yet sharp contrast.

You use me as yours, I am your toy and your slut. I am fighting the battle between riding the wave of this dream this fantasy this real pleasure, and the need and urge to be ever-vigilant to your whims and orders. I cannot tell if you truly know …..

This need, want, lust…it feels like a balloon. You keep expanding it, until I fear I will burst. I am overflowing with words, I need touch. Reality. Soon.

So take care what you ask of me,
cause I can’t say no.

Aug 102008
 

There’s a park I like to go to. It’s usually not very occupied, allowing me a better comfort level of just being somewhere alone.
And affords the luxury of being naughty, as well, if I feel the urge.

I have a spot I go to – full, lush well-kept grass with a few benches near the walkway. Little bit back there’s a picnic table I can toss my stuff on, or sit at if the ground becomes too unrelenting. If I feel naughty, I can move my blanket back behind the picnic table and I go unnoticed to most people walking.

The day in question I went to the park with a purpose. I wore a skirt – left the panties in the car. My top was of the faux-wrap style (meaning, for the men here, that the top portion is styled to look the way a robe would look – one side of fabric “wrapped” over the other. Quite honestly…unless I tack some of these tops closed with a stitch or two, they can gape and show a whole breast if I’m not careful.) and I removed my bra in the car as well. I had two books – one was the actual fiction I was currently engrossed in, the other was one of my short-story erotic anthology books. I had everything needed to relax for a good hour or two. And, oh yes, a discreet bullet vibe. What, you didn’t expect me to be without one now did you?

I laid down on my blanket on my stomach, facing the walkway. I’m about oh….I’m terrible at judging distance…15 feet back from the walkway? 20? At first I’m all alone. I lay there reading – my cleavage is exposed as my shirt gapes open a bit, my legs bent with my feet curled towards my ass. After a little while I notice this man sitting on the bench on the opposite side of the walkway, facing me. He is smoking, and reading a small thin paperback. I think I’ve seen him here before. Very dark hair. A little bit older than me. Handsome. Bad-boy aura about him. Hmmmm….

I slowly and casually let one hand drift underneath the fabric of my shirt, brush over a hardening nipple, and arrange things so that I’m showing off even more of my breasts. I go back to reading and out of the corner of my eye I think I see him staring at me. As I glance up, though, he is reading. I change positions, rolling over to lay on my back. My head still closer to the walkway but if I turn my head to the side I can see him perfectly. He can see now a great view down my shirt which is gaping more as my breasts fall towards my collarbone. He can see my legs which are bent up a bit and I’ve let my skirt slide down, exposing more leg. I glance over and catch him watching me for a split second. I smile to myself. Game on.

I read, and slowly my hand toys with fabric here and there – exposing, covering up. Trailing over my skin. I see him shift on the bench a few times. Lowers his book to his lap and reads from a bit of a distance. Oh gee, I wonder why? In the guise of getting out from the sun I move my blanket back towards that picnic table more. Not behind it but beside it, and I’m in the shade. I resume my position. This time, my hand trails down my thigh and my legs part a bit. I idly run a finger up and down my wet slit. I see movement and I freeze. He got up and moved to a closer bench. He has abandoned his book; he is sitting there casually smoking, eyes narrowed and now staring blatantly at me with one hand on the bulge in his pants. Cocky fucker.

I stared him right back and smiled slightly. I sat up for a moment and slyly pulled out my bullet vibe. As I looked over my shoulder in one direction scanning for people, I noticed him doing the same. All clear. Books are forgotten. As I press the vibrating bullet to my clit I slip a hand under my shirt and pinch a nipple. When I pull away my breast is left almost completely exposed. I close my eyes, and lose myself for a minute in the exquisite vibrations. I sense a change in the air around me and look up to see him walking towards me. He walks past me and sits on the picnic table bench, facing the table and me. He can see my exposed cunt. He is close enough to smell my arousal. His cock is now in his hand and he is staring at my fingers and the vibe, just watching intently.

After a few minutes I get up and sit beside him on the bench, but I am facing away from the table, towards the woods. I stare into his eyes for a moment and then watch him stroke. He trails his other hand first up to my shoulder and then down to my collarbone, and then lightly caressing and teasing my breast, nipple. He pushes the fabric aside more. Leaves me exposed. His hand falls to my lap. Pulls my skirt to reveal my cunt to broad daylight. Slips a finger around in my slutty wetness, easily slides one into my slit, and oh-so-briefly penetrates me. He gets up from the bench and stands in front of me. Back about 4 feet, watching my bullet being massaged over my clit, seeing how wet I am. Stroking. I am mesmerized. I barely notice as he slowly moves forward. Closer. He’s almost between my legs now .That beautiful cock about a foot away from my face. He whispers Cum…cum for me. With me. His breathing is ragged, I know he’s close. I turn the bullet up to high speed and my eyelids flutter closed, my head leans back and my mouth opens a bit. He whispers to me again to cum for him. I hold my breath for a few seconds as I feel the wave of oncoming orgasm and then I moan as loudly as I dare. As I cum, he does too. It squirts on my chest, hot drops on my lips.

He smirks and rubs his thumb over the cum on my lips and shoves it in my mouth. I stare at him and suck it clean as I hear two people quietly chatting as they walk by us on the walkway.

……………………………………………………………………….
Answer me, do you remember this?
Our first…..seems so long ago...

Jul 142008
 

Q and I play rough. He manages to totally submerse me in the fantasy world. Last week was the best. Remember this from my previous post?


Q: gets really close to your ear for a second while nobody is looking and whispers I can’t wait to try and put my fist in your cunt, though. licks your ear
(Fucker. He says that, but I didn’t see it at first, had to quickly leave the window as a co-worker was coming up to my desk. I read it finally, minutes later, and had to quickly regain my composure. He said this without yet knowing that being fisted is a fantasy of mine that only has its place in the rough, submissive sex scene I’m craving lately)

It started this conversation off, in the vein of me “performing” for him, being forced to expose myself and be vulnerable. We enter the conversation here as he is telling me what he would want to do to bring out my most submissive side. He gets very dominant with me; he knows I can take it. If you can’t stand the heat, get outta the kitchen….you’ve been warned….

(I’ve already pulled out my Silver Bullet vibe….somehow…this couldn’t be much worse timing at the office, as it’s break time with people coming and going)

Q: I’d be sitting right behind you, legs around your sides, whispering nasty things in your ear while I watch you rub. Playing with your nipples and pulling on them….reaching down to help and then make you lick it off my fingers. Calling you a nasty little cunt for performing for me. Daring you to cum.
L: I put the vibrtor on myclit
L: wow
L: cant type
L: sorry
L: cant even think
Q: Good
Q: See? I know what buttons to push
L: I know you do
Q: Look at you. Flushed and wet, no doubt
L: yes…
Q: (x) hours away and I command you enough to do that to you
L: Fuck. I just had to talk to someone and force myself to keep my eyes open and breathing normal from the vibrations on my clit right now.

(that was so difficult…I could feel that I was already a little flushed, and I was so aroused that the bullet vibe almost immediately started the climb up the hill so to speak. There was no “foreplay” no teasing vibes, just “holy fuck” right away)

He changes tone and transports me right into the moment, painting the picture for me….

………………………….

I keep my legs tight against you…..
Ordering you to rub for me….guiding you with my hand
Whispering trashy nasty thoughts in your ear…..

Must be some sort of special slut to meet a man you’ve never known before now in a hotel room and cum for him when he commands it, aren’t you?
 focus on the clit
that’s right….. fuck that wet cunt for me….show me

show me how wet I make it, slut

oh god
I need to cum

Look at your hole….. stretched nice and open for me……
I’ll be fucking it soon enough but first you’ll give me what I want
I own you….. I own this I own this cunt right now…all of it. Inside and out. Say it. who owns this hole, slut

you own it
i’m yours
everything

Good, now you know it too
You know what I want
You’ll fucking give it to me, won’t you

yes, sir

oh god
cumming
now

…………………………..

L: i…..cant breathe
Q: Good ;)
L: omg, my face is beet red…I wish you could see me
Q: Good. I hope men walk by and know what you just did. I wish to display my work proudly
Q: But it will be a well kept secret for only a few. ;)
L: holy fuck
L: i didn’t think i could do it here
Q: Well guess what….. you did. you just needed the right instigating.

I sent him this pic from my phone (and another one which I can’t post here) to show him just how badly flushed I was. From the moment the Bullet touched my clit until I came, was only 10 minutes. 10 minutes!! For the situation and the nature of things – having to be stealth about it, and occasionally stopping, taking my hand out of my pants and off the bullet thereby halting the imminent orgasm – 10 minutes was a goddamn record. I was flushed like this all over my cleavage and breasts, splotchy…my face too was red, my cheeks.


There were other things said, which I feel possibly cross the line for this post, delving into the almost-violent. I know he wouldn’t actually do those things in person with me, he wouldn’t be able to hurt me like that.
I trust him.

I need this.

(this is one of those posts that has taken me all day to do. editing. censoring, a bit. over-thinking. it’s one that I’m not going to be totally comfortable with until I get positive feedback.)