Kinky interactions for the D/s inclined

 
 
A Simple Act
Today, when you came in for lunch, I felt a flutter in my stomach. You told me to make you something to eat. Such a simple command had the force of a hand squeezing my heart. As I was getting food ready, I was thinking of what you would want, what you would need, what would satisfy you. That helped me remember all of the little things, the extra napkin, the tortilla, ice for your drink. It felt ritualistic.

You sat down to eat and motioned for me to sit next to you. I didn't. Instead, I felt compelled to kneel next to you, a simple act. We talked, laughed, you even fed me fruit. The whole time felt magical. How can I describe the triumph I felt when you looked down and smiled at me? Triumph over myself and my own stubborness. I wasn't expecting you to feed me, yet was flushed with the pleasure it gave me. All cares and concerns were gone. There was no one but you and you were happy; Happy with me.

So with this simple act, I give you the gift of my submission. I am yours and I am loved.

If you want to possess my body, you must first possess my mind
My mind is a place of ordered chaos; planning, scheduling, anticipating, worrying, and orchestrating the 12-ring circus that is our lives. Take possession of my mind, take control of my body and I will submit with all of my heart and soul.
Tell me to strip, and my thoughts start to change focus.
Tell me I’m beautiful, so I can see myself through your eyes instead of my own.
Tell me you’re pleased, so I don’t feel like I’m failing you.
Be prepared, so I don’t worry about what you might have forgotten.
Talk to me while we play, or my mind will stray.
Tell me I’m wet for you, and I sink further into your hands knowing you are aware of my reactions.
Tell me to open my legs, and I relinquish control.
Tell me to look at you, so I feel your presence and make the connection of who controls my physical pleasure.
Tell me you want to do things to me, so I can trust that you know where you are taking me.
Give me pain, because sometimes it is too hard to shut down my own thoughts.
Give me pain, if I have disappointed you so I can try harder.
Give me pain, so you can take me further than I thought possible.
Tell me why I’m being punished, so I know you care enough to help make me better.
Tell me to take pain/pleasure from you, beyond what I perceive are my limits.
Take me to that place where no one exists but you and your desires.
Afterwards, tell me what my submission meant to you.
Remind me that you own me in all ways and why that is important to you.
Reassure me that I’ve done exactly as you wanted, so I don’t feel insecure.
Tell me what you are thinking and feeling, because my own thoughts can deceive me.
Push beyond my resistance, and release me from myself.

Take possession of my mind, and all of me is YOURS.

She sat on the edge of the couch.

Danger was near. She sensed it. That feeling you get in the pit of your stomach that says, "RUN!!"

But she didn't. Not now, not yet.

He stood before her. "What would you like?"
It wasn't a question of food or beverage. He was looking deeply into her eyes.

"I..... i....i... I don't know," she stammered.

She would like...... oh so many things.

He had been taunting her all evening. Hands brushing across her breasts to undo her seatbelt. Fingers slipping across her thighs to take her hand and lead her out onto the patio. Hands on her hips just a little too low. No wonder she was flustered!

"Sir, I think maybe I should go," she said with feigned determination.

"Should you?"

He motioned to his driver.

"Yes, I mean no. I mean, no. Please. I don't want to leave." She was embarrassed and looked at the ground. His finger crooked under her chin. "Child, stay if you wish or leave for your own safety."

Safety? What had she gotten herself into? It didn't matter. The only thing was that she wanted more; needed more.

"Como quieras, quiero," she said softly.

He took her hand and led her to the backyard. The lake shimmered in the moonlight and the trees were lit by a thousand rays.

"Closer, please." This was no command, it was an invitation. She followed, keeping her head down. She was excited and ashamed and exhilarated all at the same time.

He pressed something cold into the palm of her hand. She rolled it in her fingers and knew what it was. She couldn't! She wouldn't! ..... she would.

He added the lube to her hands and she knew. He was not doing what he wanted, he was forcing her to do what SHE wanted.

Had she had panties they would have been laid aside by now. But she didn't..... and she wanted .... and she did.

The item was a plug and she coated it with the lube in the faithless hope that it would help ease the intensity. She moved sideways so as to not show him her discomfort and simultaneous arousal.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned against the pressure of the invasion. Her body tensed and relaxed accepting the intrusion. That feeling of penetration and fullness flooded her body. All thought left her.

"Baby girl, don't leave me." He whispered in her ear pressing the length of his body against hers. She squirmed against him. The pressure in her ass heightening as his hardness pressed against her.

The force of his body pressed her against the trees and he slowly unzipped her dress. She was hugging the oak that stood before her. Letting the shoulder straps slip from her frame. She hugged all the harder feeling the bark on her soft skin.

The skirts fell around her feet and she quickly kicked them away.

"There is more for you, my sweet," he spoke to her in a slightly more sinister manner. He pulled her arms apart and began attaching rope to her wrists, secured by carabiners in the trunk of the tree.

Her breasts scraped against the abrasions of the tree bark. Her ass clenched in shame. With one swift stroke of the knife, her panties were gone.

"Oh damn!" what had she gotten herself into?!?!

His hand stroked her back and she felt reassured; until he reached down and smackedher tender ass.

"Noooo!" she cried. The pain and pressure of the plug intensified exponentially. Did she know she was an anal virgin?

"No, my sweet?" he asked menacingly "No, what?"

The entire front of her body was being pressed and scraped against the tree.
The full moon lit the lake in front of them like a candle in a mirror.

The lake!! It drew her eyes and made her forget, just for moment, that she was in discomfort and aroused. Yes, she was aroused. She felt herself melting into her pussy with juices flowing.

SMACK

Harder this time. Right against her ass, pressing the plug deeper inside her. Again and again he tortured her. Or so she thought.....

whirrrrrr

It was unmistakable. That sound....

She tensed against the tree, breasts aching with the abrasions. She squeezed the tree tighter fearing what was to come next. She knew. She didn't want it. She wanted it. She needed it. But NO!!!!

But Oh My God, YES!!!!!!

He came up behind her and pressed his leg between hers. He pushed them apart and breathed into her ear. "Now, my sweet, you will wish you had left." With that he spread her legs further apart. The vibrator move against her thighs threateningly. Slowly, methodically, he moved it closer to her pussy.

"DON'T cum!" he commanded as the vibrations hit her clit. Over and over the waves of frustration plagued her.

"PLEASE!" She begged.

"No," he responded, whispering in her ear, pressing harder against her clit and moving it back against her pussy. Over and over again he tormented her.

"PLEASE!" she begged once again.

With that he withdrew his tormentor against the tormented. He unhooked her restraints and guided her to the fire pit.

There she collapsed on the ground between his legs.

The moon shone so brightly she could see and feel the erection pressing against his slacks.

He wrapped a blanket around her and let her rest her head on his leg. He stroked her hair and smiled down at her.

How did he know she wondered? How did he know that the denial of her orgasm was as heady as the orgasm itself?

Sweet and sour.

2.5 oz Gin or vodka
.5 oz Dry vermouth
.5 oz Olive brine
Garnish: Olives

It was only the second time she had been in the club. She was nervous being there alone but everyone had been so welcoming and friendly during orientation that she had forced herself to quell her nerves.

She wanted to go see what was happening on the main dungeon floor but a noise in one of the semi-private rooms catches her attention. The rooms have doors but there is no expectation of privacy and this door was open.

On the spanking bench was a woman. There was a Dom behind her wielding a single-tail whip and another woman, with jet black hair, kneeling near her head. It quickly became apparent that the woman on the bench was experiencing this for the first time. The black haired woman was caressing her arms and shoulders; moaning .... chanting in a soothing tone. Her words and her touch worked in unison.

The Dom touched her backs and buttocks. He provided that warmth, that connection necessary in impact play. And when he stepped back, the on-looker held her breath. The first few strikes seemed soft. She felt her cheeks flush with the warmth pooling between her legs and inched further into the room. She was shaking a little and stayed close to the wall so as not to disturb anyone. What she didn’t understand was that the trio was already encased in a world of their own creation. They were their own world; each providing their own ebb and flow within their environment. It was rhythmic. It was magical. And she couldn’t look away.

Each flick of the whip created a new mark on the white skin. He was the artist, she was the canvas. He artfully working his craft; she experiencing and submitting to his skill. But the most fascinating person in that room was the black-haired woman. She was the inspiration. She was the conduit. She was the port in the storm. She was the wind in the air. She was the energy in the room.

Her hands stroked and soothed the other woman. Skin never left skin. The woman on the table never experienced a coldness or an emptiness because the other was there. Her voice soothed. Her voice coaxed. Her voice encouraged. Her voice reassured. Not with words, but with sounds. Sounds born of the energy being created. The energy connecting the three in their shared experience.

As the woman on the table succumbed to the ministrations of the two guides, she relaxed. She let the waves of pain and pleasure envelope her.

Yes, the black-haired woman was the soothing warmth of a martini; but she had just the right amount of ...... dirty in her.