The Writer's Loft

His hand fell heavy on the cheek of her ass and the sound of flesh striking flesh filled the room. He sat in his leather executive chair and she lay across his lap. Her clothes were piled in a heap beside his desk, save for her panties which were rolled down around her knees.

She was flushed. Her arousal was evident when his fingers explored her sex. When his hand moved she bit her lip, anticipating the next blow to her other cheek.

She enjoyed this game of cat and mouse. A little discomfort was a small price to pay for the pleasure of his fingers inside her. She wanted more, of course. But she knew better than to ask.

Minutes passed and soon her cheeks began to glow a warm shade of pink. She felt numb, but alive. There was an energy that coursed through her body as his fingers slipped in and out of her sex while his thumb stimulated her clit.

Her breathing became quick and heavy. She was getting close. She closed her eyes, trying to focus, but soon, the sensation of his touch was too much. Panting, she begged him for release. He placed his hand around her throat and held her down while his relentless stroking pushed her to the edge.

She knelt before him, her eyes cast downward. She wore nothing but her collar, his sign of devotion to her and hers to him. He reached down and caressed her cheek before applying padded clamps to each of her nipples. He then tightened them just enough to remind her of their presence. Her hair, recently brushed, fell about her shoulders, shielding her face from his gaze.

He stood and removed his shirt, then his pants and boxers. He now stood naked before her. Again he reached down and caressed her cheek before lifting her chin and brushing the hair from her face so that their eyes met. He was hungry for her desire to please and she craved the taste of his lust.

He ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it back and away from her face. She looked up at him expectantly, waiting for permission to take him in her mouth. Her hands rested on her thighs and when he spoke, she quickly moved them to the small of her back.

With slight pressure on the back of her head, she leaned forward at his urging and parted her lips. She wetted them with her tongue before softly kissing the tip of his shaft. She closed her eyes as he continued pulling her to him until she felt him slide past her lips. She bathed the underside of his shaft with her tongue, licking and teasing as it became erect inside her mouth.

He pressed his hips forward until his cock was completely inside her willing mouth. Her lips brushed the base of his shaft and she opened the back of her throat to prevent herself from gagging. He held her there, savoring the moment of her submissiveness and the sensation of her warmth about his flesh. And without warning he pulled back and slowly pressed forward again.

In the moments that past she relaxed enough to match the rhythm of his thrusts. Having taken him many times before, she knew his favorite desires. His girth was wide and each thrust met with a hint of pain at the back of her throat. But soon, she acquiesced to his desire and easily accommodated his repeated motion.

He took his pleasure from her mouth and with each thrust his desire grew louder. She felt him swell within his mouth and pressed her lips tightly together, preparing to receive his seed. He quickened his pace as his orgasm built and when he cried out, he pulled her against him once again.

With the tip of his cock lodged against the back of her throat, he unleashed his desire as his seed slid down her throat into her belly. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she held her breath waiting for his orgasm to subside. When at last, the final drop of seed found its way into her belly, he released his hold on her and pulled back allowing her to breathe. 

Using his thumb he wiped her eyes and smiled as he helped her to her feet. He placed his hand under her chin and kissed her hungrily conveying his appreciation for her gift.

“Thank you, Master,” she said when at last, he broke their kiss.

“Thank you, my princess,” he replied before taking her in his arms and kissing her again.

He removed her dress and laid her on the bed. Kneeling at the edge, he held her foot and kissed her ankle. He slid his hand up her leg and over her calf, past her knee, and across her thigh. His lips trailed slowly behind. He was in no rush as he took her other foot in his hand and repeated his act of worship. Periodically, he would look down to measure the bliss that graced her lips.

He noticed her excited nipples protrude against the sheer lace of her brassiere. He fought the urge to lower himself upon her and suckle at her breast. He slid his fingers under the hem of her matching lace panties and she lifted her hips as he slowly slid them down her legs before tossing them aside.

He leaned down and kissed her navel. She held her breath and her tummy became taught as the stubble of his chin scratched her sensitive flesh. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed his way to the cleft between her legs. Her skin was smooth as silk as his lips and tongue lingered above her sex. He never understood her desire to feel the pain of the Brazilian wax, but he was forever grateful for the after-effects.

He spread her lips with his fingers and softly kissed her clitoris. She arched her back and clenched her hands in his hair. She pulled him against her flesh as he took his time worshiping her sex and savoring the taste of her arousal. She was in heaven and prayed for rapture as he slid two fingers inside her. He pressed upwards against the underside of her clitoris and slowly massaged the most sensitive part of her being.

Her breathing quickened as he slid his fingers back and forth, filling her completely. Images of him taking her from behind flooded her memory as he continued his delicious assault on her sex. He slipped his tongue between his fingers and teased the edge of her lips and she gasped as she felt the familiar tingling build within her loins.

“I’m going to cum,” she panted between breaths.

He looked up at her and watched as she bit her lip and tightened her grip in his hair. She pressed her thighs together, trapping his head in place, as she bucked her hips when the first wave of pleasure flooded his lips and tongue. He continued to suckle, lick, and tease as she rode the waves of bliss until she pulled him away as a result of over-stimulation.

Pinning her wrists to the bed, he kissed his way slowly up her body until he reached her mouth and devoured her lips in a hungry kiss. She cooed softly as she tasted the remnants of her orgasm on his lips and chin and savored the moment. He reached between their bodies and held the tip of his shaft to the entrance to her sex. As he slowly eased into her she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him close as he slid deep inside her. This was the moment she had been anticipating all day and in the moment, she found her true desire.

His fingers trailed down her torso between her breasts and down towards her navel. Her wrists were bound with silk to the corners of the headboard. A third stole her sense of sight. Lost in the electric current of his touch, she arched her back, her excited nipples proffered to the Gods, begging to be worshipped.

He leaned down and suckled at her breast. His lips lingered as his fingers ventured lower. She fought the urge to close her legs as her desire and the silks binding her ankles to the ends of the footboard left her longing for his touch. She held her breath as his tongue teased the tip of her nipple. Her senses were being assaulted with forms of pleasure she had never before experienced. This was her coming of age; her first time with a new lover in many years.

His fingers parted her lips and she flushed as thoughts of his discovery of her arousal filled her mind. His hand caressed her inner thigh and she pressed her hips against his hand, wanting for more. One, then two, fingers slowly eased inside her, sliding back and forth. Her body soon acquiesced to his touch. The heel of his palm and the tips of his fingers stimulated both sides of her clitoris and a whimper escaped her lips.

A cube of ice replaced his lips and she cried out with the sudden change in temperature on her flesh. The cold, wet trail dripped down her breast as he held the cube to her nipple. She bit her lip when she felt it slide down her body towards her sex. She cried out when he nestled it against her clitoris.

Panting, she begged him for release, but his kiss silenced her plea. She tried to pull away when she felt another cube trailing up and down the insides of her thighs. She cried out into his mouth when she felt the ice slip between her lips and into the warmth of her sex.

Her mind was racing and she wanted nothing more than for him to untie her so that she could reach out and take him in her arms. She wanted to wrap her hands around his waist and pull him to her, guiding him inside her. More than anything she wanted to feel him inside her, lowering his weight upon her, stretching her with his girth as he took her.

Was she dreaming or was it really happening? She felt his weight on top of her. His cock inside her, thrusting slowly and deeply, broke the spell of her trance. She lifted her head, lips parted, hungry for his kiss. He leaned down, his lips finding hers, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth.

She cried out as her body reacted to his touch. He had consumed her completely and now her orgasm shook her core. She lost control as his hand cupped her breast as he continued thrusting inside her. He felt her body react and clench his cock as she came. Unable to hold back, he cried out, and with one final thrust, his seed filled her womb.

His hand caressed her cheek as his eyes bore deep into her soul. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and her mind began to wander. She found herself lost in memories of kneeling before him, her lips parted, worshiping his cock and breathing life into his flesh before he held her down and claimed her as his very own.

His lips brushed her flesh, just below her ear and she felt herself melt into his touch. The scent of her perfume was sweetly pungent and fueled his lust for the taste of her flesh. She sighed when she felt his lips on her ear, his warm breath caressing her sensitive nerves. 

His hand cupped her breast and pressed it upwards, stimulating her arousal. She turned her head and her lips met his. Their tongues parted lips searching for the other’s. His free hand found the back of her neck and she became putty in his hands. 

He slipped her robe from her shoulders and lowered his lips to her breast. As he suckled, she arched her back, offering him the very essence of her being. He slid his hand between her thighs and found her wanting for his touch. She parted her thighs in offering to his touch.

He paused long enough to disrobe and cover her. As he entered her, he kissed her again. He was drunk on her lust as their bodies found steady rhythm. When she arched her back and cried out with pleasure, he held her tightly in his arms. His seed spilled forth into her womb and she clung to his body longing to never let go. He captured her mind, her body, and her spirit. She would forever be a slave to the Master’s touch. 

Her disobedience had been willful and for that, she would be punished. She paced nervously about the house, awaiting the appointed hour. When the time arrived, she removed her clothing and stood before his desk, waiting for his return, just as he had instructed. Time passed slowly and her mind wandered as she shifted her weight from one aching foot to another. Then she heard his key in the door, followed by its opening and then closing shut. Her heart now raced for the moment of reckoning had arrived.

He entered the study and laid a bouquet of long stem roses on the desk. As he took off his jacket and tie, she couldn’t help but wonder what he had in store for her. And flowers? Earlier, he was much too angry for flowers, she thought.

He said nothing as he walked across the room and hung his jacket and tie on the rack by the door. His footsteps were deafening as he drew near. His touch was cold as steel as his fingers caressed her shoulder, followed by his lips; and still he said nothing. He drew his hand down her spine and watched the gooseflesh form across her back. He then traced the curve of her hip, letting his hand fall, before reaching for the bouquet and removing a single rose.

He brought the bud to his face and inhaled its sweet scent. The he brushed the petals across her lips, offering her the same pleasure. He then caressed her shoulder and upper arm with the tips of the petals and she instinctively pulled away at the tickling sensation but his hand grabbed her arm and held her steadfast.

“Put your hands flat on the desk.” His words were plain and dry. There was no hint of anger or care in his voice. As she assumed the spanking position she braced herself for the sting of his hand on her flesh.

The air was sucked from the room as the first lash of the thorny stem fell across her ass. The thorns bit into her flesh and she cried out as a pain she had never before felt assaulted her senses. Three more lashes and the petals from the bud, now lay scattered about the floor. He set the naked stem on the desk between her hands. Her eyes were focused on the thorns that dug deep into her flesh. Traces of flesh and blood graced the tips. He reached for a fresh stem and she braced herself as five more strokes bit into her thighs and ass before it too was laid to rest between her hands.

By the time he finished with the third stem, streaks of tears stained her cheeks. By the time he finished the sixth, she was sobbing uncontrollably. After the eighth, blood began to weep down her thighs. When he finished with the eleventh, he told her to stand and he positioned himself before her, leaning against the desk.

“Are you okay?” he asked, the concern in his voice was genuine.

“Yes, Sir.” She answered, composing herself as she nodded, her eyes cast downward.

“Do you understand your transgression and why atonement was warranted?”

“Yes, Sir.” She replied, nodding again. “I am truly sorry for my words and actions.”

He reached out and lifted her chin until her gaze met his. Then she broke down once again. He took her in his arms and kissed her softly on the lips. Then he reached behind himself and presented her with the final rose.

“For you,” he said. “To remember this moment, and my devotion to you.”

She took the rose and held it to her face and inhaled its sweet aroma. She closed her eyes as she felt a sense of calm wash over her.

He then took her by the hand and led her down the hall to the bath, where he filled the tub with warm water and her favorite scented oils. He then helped her inside and she lowered herself into the water. She winced as she sank lower until the water reached her breasts. He then removed his clothes and joined her in the bath, taking his place directly behind her. He spent the better part of the next half hour bathing her wounds, kissing her flesh, and holding her close. He repeatedly professed his love for her and reminded her that she will always be his cherished soul.

When the water began to cool he stood and dried himself off before helping her to her feet and drying the water from her body. He applied an herbal salve to her wounds before taking her in his arms and kissing her again.

“The words and actions of this day are buried and forgotten.” He continued. “Now, get dressed and let us enjoy a nice dinner before bed. I have plans for you tonight.”

He pressed the flat edge of the eight-inch blade against her breast. Her breath caught in her throat as the razor-sharp tip threatened to pierce her nipple. She closed her eyes and felt the cold steel sear her supple flesh. She felt the tip of the blade lift her nipple and she bit her lip as his lips lavished sweet attention upon her succulent nub. She felt a small prick and then his tongue lapped at the pooling drop of blood on her breast. The cut so small, it would not leave a scar, but the sting of the air mixed with the warmth of his kiss brought a gasp to her lips.

He sheathed the knife and backed her against the wall. His hand cupped her breast and he suckled like a newborn babe. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him close to her racing heart. She longed to feel his desire unleashed inside her.

He pulled away and his hands cupped her face as he devoured her lips in a hungry kiss. He was set on consuming the very breath that filled her lungs and gave life to her mortal soul. He pressed his thigh against her sex, pinning her against the wall and she pressed her hips back against his leg, rocking back and forth, and stimulating her desire.

Their tongues dueled as the minutes past. Her hair was matted to her brow. He pulled away and turned her to face the wall and dropped to his knees, her ass just inches from his face. His hand struck the first blow and she pressed her palms against the wall to steady herself. The dozen or more that followed seemed to transcend time until she felt his masculine hands knead her fleshy cheeks. His lips and tongue cooled her burning flesh and soon his tongue pierced her sex from behind. As he savored the taste of her arousal, he pressed two fingers deep inside her and brought her trembling knees to brink of collapse.

He stood once more and turned her back to face him again. The passion unleashed in his kiss fueled her desire to be taken by him. “Please,” she managed as his hands explored her body, roughly caressing the curve of her hip and torso. He loosened the belt about his waist as his sporran and kilt fell to the floor. Her hands, pressed against chest, worked their way down until they found their way to his throbbing cock. As she fell to her knees before him, she kissed his chest, torso, and then his navel, until her knees met the floor and she took him in her smallish hands.

She lifted his heaving manhood to her lips and kissed the tip while slowly stroking him to life. He reached down and held her head steady as she focused her desire on his now-throbbing cock. She took him in her mouth and worshiped him with her lips and tongue. She expertly licked and sucked his shaft until he became fully erect and cried out with pleasure. He took his time, thrusting slowly and enjoying the pleasures of his mouth until he felt a stirring in his loins.

He pulled her to her feet again and lifted her in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist as his cock pierced her sex and he backed her against the wall. He took her hard and the cold stone against her back would surely leave the flesh of her back raw and purple come the morning.

Thrust upon thrust, he buried himself deep within her. She clung to his body as if holding on meant the difference between living and dying. She cried out when her orgasm over took her, unable to hold back any longer. Her nails dug deep into his shoulders, drawing blood. The sensation of pain and pleasure became too much and he could hold back no longer. With a final thrust, he stretched her wide as his cock erupted inside her and filled her with his seed. She bit down on his shoulder and screamed with lust as he lowered himself to floor.

He pulled her close to rest upon his now-spent body and wiped the matted hair from her brow. She laid her head upon his chest and listened to his heart race. She remembered the day he took her for the first time and how she wondered if she would ever grow to love such a savage. Now, as she lay upon his chest, fleeting thoughts leave her mind and she can think of no other place she would rather be.

“Take me, please.” She begged as he sat as his desk across the room. Naked and exposed, she knelt before him on the bearskin rug near the fireplace. As he stood and walked slowly towards her from across the room, she rested her hands on the rug before lowering her shoulders and cheek to the floor, presenting her sex for his inspection.

He circled her slowly, his fingertips brushed lightly against the flesh of her buttocks. “Take you, how?” he asked.

“In any way you desire, Sir. For I am yours.”

He ran his fingers over her hips and up her spine. He watched the gooseflesh form on her arms. His fingers encircled her neck, before he slid them forward and clenched the bulk of her hair in his fist. He lifted her head up off the floor and ordered her to stand. As she got to her feet he stood behind her, his fist, still tangled in her locks.

Pulling her head back he kissed her hungrily. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe while returning his kiss. She let herself get lost in his strength as her body relaxed against his.

Sensing her body becoming limp, he reached his arm around her waist and held her close. His hand cupped her breast and lifted it upward as his thumb and forefinger gently squeezed her nipple. Minutes passed as he enjoyed the taste of her mouth before turning her around to face him. He resisted the urge to lean down and suckle her breast as he released her hair and took her by the hand.

Lifting her hand to his lips he kissed the back of each finger softly before working his way to her wrist up and up her arm. When his lips touched the inside of her elbow she giggled at the teasing sensation and started to pull away. He swatted her ass and she stopped struggling. It was a gentle reminder to let him lead. She struggled with that urge from time to time and he always brought her back to center.

He picked her up and carried her to his bed. He laid her down gently before disrobing and crawling in beside her. He covered her and looked longingly into her eyes as the tip of his erection slowly pierced her body. The electricity between them sent shivers up and down her body. He devoured her mouth in another hungry kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist and using her heels, she pulled him deep inside her and held him close. He took his time claiming her; they had the night to themselves. As his thrusts became more urgent she gasped through panting breath, “Take me, Master. For I am yours.” And with one final thrust he cried out as he filled her womb with his seed.

He lay beside her and brushed the hair from her face and tucked an errant strand behind her ear. With his hand cradling her chin and cheek his eyes pierced through her flesh to her soul. She blushed profusely as he leaned forward and softly brushed his lips against her neck, just beneath her ear. He heard her breath catch in her throat as he inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume.

She turned her face to kiss the heel of his hand and left her most vulnerable part of her body to his desire. He was hungry and she could feel his warm breath on her neck she turned her head again searching for his lips, longing to taste his kiss.

Her hand cupped her breast and she lightly drew her palm over the supple curve and across the tender nub oh her nipple. Soon, her fingers found tip and she lightly pinched and squeezed, sending micro-bolts coursing through her body. Her other hand slipped beneath the hem of her panties and she blushed again as they caressed the baby-smooth skin left by the hot wax earlier that morning.

She savored the sensation of pleasure from her fingers between her thighs. She arched her back and turned her head, her fingers released her breast and then she reached for him to pull him close. She wanted nothing more than to give herself to him in that moment before the sunlight stole the memories of their night.

But her hand fell heavy against the sheet of her bed. There was no head resting on the pillow beside her. There was no body laying inches away from hers. As the morning light washed the remnants of her slumber from her mind, a tear fell from her eye and slowly trailed down her cheek. Where was he? Why was she alone? When would she feel his touch again?

I have struggled with the topic of this blog post for awhile now. It has been eating at my soul for the better part of three years and it is time to incise the wound so that it can heal. There is no fantasy or delicious sexy-time content in this post, so if you are accustomed to reading that on my feed and don’t want to read about heartbreak and emotional self-flagellation, now would be a good time to stop reading.

 
Okay?

 
Okay.

 
If I had to wager, I wouldd say the vast majority of my readers are female and identify as a submissive or bottom in some form. And I am sure that most, if not all, have had their heart broken by a man at some point in their life. And yes, we men may wear the battle-tried armor to protect you fair lasses, but our armor is sometimes the weakest over the proverbial breastplate where we actually need it to be the strongest. Some of us are the sensitive type and we get our hearts broken too.

Sadly, even us well-meaning men fall short of perfection. As Doms, we sometimes hurt our submissives and sometimes we break their hearts, ripping out our own in the process. As well-meaning as we might be, we sometimes, dare I say oftentimes, have no one in which we can turn for comfort, compassion, or empathy. We are the alphas, the strong ones; the ones who rush into battle to defend our maiden’s honor with the hopes to return to our castle, drenched in testosterone and passion-filled lust, ready to reclaim our woman and our rightful place on the throne of our relationship as you kneel before us in supplication... Only sometimes, it does not work out that way. Sometimes, there is no “happily ever after”. Sometimes, we must do the honorable thing, no matter how painful that might be for all parties involved, and walk away, leaving behind the ones we love because, to stay, would hurt them more than setting them free.

Life is messy and often ugly. Ask any Dom; if given the opportunity, would they want to spend the rest of their life in a 24/7 relationship with their submissive and I bet you will hear a resounding thunderous “Yes” that would rival the war-cry of the Spartan 300 as they stood at death’s door. You know, as well as I do, that sometimes we are not free to give ourselves to the ones we desire due to prior commitments and obligations. And before anyone sends me hate messages about the sanctity of marriage or the fact that spouses should not be looked upon as merely an obligation, I am going to ask you to stop, and please don’t travel down that well-worn path. Nobody likes a Judgey McJudgerface anyway.

Some of us are in committed, loving, and perfect “bless our sweet little hearts” vanilla relationships and would love nothing more than to be in a D/s relationship with our spouse... but we either cannot or we have tried and they won’t. Sometimes we are too afraid to ask and risk our happy little lives because we fear what they might think of our “kink” and judge us harshly, or maybe we have been down that road and broached the subject only to be shunned before we can finish that hypothetical sentence. Funny, the euphemism of trying to wash a poll-cat in a muddy creek floods my mind (I don’t really know what that means, it’s just something that my Granddaddy used to say when he was describing pounding a square peg into a round hole). Sometimes our spouses just do not “get” BDSM. And hey, it is not for everyone. The point is, life does not always lend itself to perfection. It is messy and ugly, yet beautiful and exotic all at the same time. Some of us believe that it is impossible to be all things to one person. I know first hand the pain of resentment and heartbreak resulting from years of neglect and unmet needs. Some of us find that perfect-for-us-extra-someone to meet those needs and life is indeed perfect again... Until it’s not. We become the best versions of ourselves again... Until we don’t. Because why? Because life is messy and it is ugly. Humans have feelings and longings. We all know that the connection two people feel in a D/s relationship is greater, stronger, and deeper than any vanilla relationship in this world.

But sometimes, one must kiss their submissive goodbye. And even though the lips say, “Until I see you next time,” the heart says, “this will be the last time” because we just cannot bare to see the biting, quivering lip, one more time; or the sea-green eyes flutter as they well with tears, one more time; or the one more embrace and the one more kiss, followed by the “I love you!” and the “Please don’t go,” one more time.

But we pull away. We pull away and we smile. We kiss the top of their head for the very last time and then we turn and walk away, fighting every urge, in every cell of our being to turn back around and run into their arms. And we pray.

We pray that they do not see the salty streaks running down our cheeks. We pray that they do not hear the stifled sobs as we turn the corner and hold on to the wall so that we do not collapse. We pray that they do not see us sitting in our truck for 15 minutes or maybe an hour until we can breathe again and we pray... we pray that they find happiness in life and that one day they will meet the one perfect-for-them person that can give them everything that we could not. Then we start the truck and finally drive away, we tell ourselves that we will try to move on, but deep down we know we will never be the same because they took a piece of our heart, a piece of our soul, and we will never be free to give ourselves wholly to another with our incomplete being. But we smile.

Three years later we smile, because deep down, we know that we were brought together for a reason. We know that no matter how painful it was in the end, the beginning and middle were the sweetest days of our lives. Yes, indeed we smile, and do you know why? Because deep down, we know that in spite of it all, we wouldn’t want it any other way.