Kinky interactions for the D/s inclined

Liza continued to delude herself into thinking she had some sort of choice in the events about to unfold.

The men approached her. She saw victory on each of their faces yet couldn’t understand the implications for her.

“Enough! Fine. I played the game and you caught me off guard. This is done. Let me go.” Her voice sounded so firm in her own mind, she was certain they would be swayed.

“Baby, this isn’t a game.” Mr. Leash crooned from behind her. “Do you really think you are here because of your choosing?”

The mindfuck had begun. Liza started to wonder if her plan had gone awry or if there had been an entirely different plant in the making, altogether. *They didn’t know. They **couldn’t** know* she insisted to herself.

“Clay in the hands of a sculptor” Mr. Milton entoned.

Frantically she grasped for the sequence of events. *They were surprised to see me, weren’t they?* Liza was second guessing everything that had happened up to that point.

The men caressed her, in front and behind. Hands everywhere. She closed her eyes.

She felt the cold steel against her skin. What little warmth her remaining garments had provided was gone. Cut away. It wasn’t the thought of her expensive costuming that brought a few tears to her eyes. It was the exposure. Fully and completely, she was secured and bound; completely available to the whims of her victims who had become her captors.

Liza attempted to pull her legs together, but it was pointless. Her ankles were pulled tightly. All attempts are modesty were torn from her. She was open. Her breasts were hanging in front of her. Her legs and arms extended beyond the point of being useful to her. How could she regain control of the situation?

“You can’t” Mr. Leash breathed into her ear. “Baby, you are so far gone, you can’t even admit it to yourself.” He had read her mind. He was in her thoughts.

“Red? Are you with me?” Mr. Milton’s voice jolted her eyes open as he grasped and squoze her breast.

She stared at him but couldn’t answer. He leaned forward. His lips so close to hers she could feel his breath. She couldn’t move. She could blink. She stared at him and waited for the assault on her mouth. It didn’t come.

Mr. Milton moved his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her close to him. Behind her, Mr. Leash encircled her waist and pulled her ass against his erection. She didn’t pull away or press toward. She was .... trapped.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” Mr. Leash whispered into her ear.

Liza exhaled and inhaled twice. Her world began to spin.

****************************************************************

Liza shivered at the sudden retreat of Mr. Leash and Mr. Milton. The cool air on her skin was a short reprieve.

Each man chose a flogger from the display on the east wall.

Nothing they did next was in unison.

Mr. Leash started on her upper back, then her thighs. It was almost as if he intentionally avoided her ass. The blows came in varying intensity.

Mr. Milton worked her over from the front. He struck her nipples over and over again. Her cries for relief hung in the air, ignored, or so she thought.

Mr. Milton leaned into her again. His hand stroked her tender breasts and slid down to her center, never entering, just teasing ... feeling. “Cry, Red. Scream. Cry. Beg for mercy. We won’t stop you.”

“Bastard!” Liza yelled. “Fuck you. Fuck him. Fuck you both!”

Wrong answer!

Mr. Milton grasped her hair and pulled her head back sharply. Mr. Leash stopped his flogging, reached around and grabbed her pussy with his right hand.

“Not smart, baby” Mr. Leash chastised as he slid his fingers up her slit and grasped her clit.

“Not smart at all, Red” Mr. Milton agreed and bit her breast hard.

****************************************************************

*I tried. I really tried* Liza reassured herself as she assessed her predicament.

Mr. Milton and Mr. Leash were leaning against the wall talking in whispered tones. The occasional chuckle reached her ears.

She pulled and tugged at her extremities. Twisting her wrists, trying desperately to reach the clasp and work her way out of the situation.

*How did this happen? **They** were supposed to be left wanting. Why am I attached to this frame?*

Her legs were pulled so far outward that her high heels gave only tenuous support. Her arms were too stretched to allow for fingers reaching the clasps.

Practicality overruled all else, as it tends to do with Liza. *I might need my energy for later. Better take a more conservative approach.*

It was laughable. The reality of the situation should have been enough to show her that her approach/plans/wishes/desires were no longer a factor in this scenario. Her fate belonged elsewhere and she wasn’t ready to accept that just yet.

*******************************************************

“Heads or tails. Literally speaking” Mr. Leash said with a laugh as he tossed the coin in the air.

Mr. Milton knew what he wanted and was loathe to allow his playtime to be dictated by the toss of a coin. However, the entire unfolding of events had taken everyone by surprise.

Last week, he and Mr. Leash had decided to attend Eva’s party. It was to be a private event held in her bar for a few close friends. He had no plans to play but looked forward to sharing theories and techniques with his new friend.

As soon as the song began, he knew who would be appearing before him. Well ... he didn’t know for sure, but he suspected as much. Her teasing and insinuations had gone on for days. He was drawn to her ..... mind. *What was really going on in there?* he wondered. It was pointless to try and put her into a known paradigm. He knew she was different. It wasn’t sexual, it was .... intellectual.

“Heads. Always Heads.” he said and watched as the coin appeared showing the first President.

“Can’t blame me for being an ass and leg man.” Mr. Leash laughed.

*Yes!* Mr. Milton smiled at his victory.

******************************************************************

Mr. Leash knew Liza’s hot spots. He knew how to tease her and make her crazy. *She thinks she is so complex. She has her trigger points.*

He had been taunting and teasing her for awhile now. She couldn’t help but rise to the bait like a kitten to string. He toyed with her fantasies. He didn’t have to probe her mind or how the machinations occurred. He liked keeping her flustered and off-balance.

He couldn’t have been more pleased when Mr. Milton chose “heads”. He wanted that *tail*. Yes, he had plans for that *tail*.

*Yes!* Mr. Leash smiled at his victory.

**********************************************************************

 

BossDaddy wasn’t there in person, but she was dealing with trying to keep her wrists from suffering the same fate as her ankles. If I can keep my hands free and make these guys so frustrated with my lack of submissiveliness, I can still undue the ankle cuffs myself. Famous last words.

Mr. Leash slammed two fingers inside Liza, causing her to cry out. Mr. Milton took the opportunity to yank one arm up and get it to the cuff. Mr. Leash again bit down on the inside of her thigh. Liza didn’t even register that she had one arm free.

“FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Wimpy domly ones can’t take her one-on-one!” called Eva.

“Kitty?”

Liza heard the voice but didn’t recognize it. Someone was in the balcony with Eva.

“Daddy!!” Eva squealed. She wasn’t expecting him because he had told her he would be working.

Eva jumped and turned, her excitement at hearing his voice replaced by excitement of another sort. In his hands she saw it. The one thing that could quiet her. Well, not exactly quiet her, she was EvaDiva, afterall. But the sight of the leash was enough to bring her crawling to him.

He sat in the large, leather chair and said, “Kitty, my love, if you want to watch, you must be silent. Do you understand?”

Eva curled into his lap and purrrrrrrrrrrrred.

Liza took one last deep breath, tested her ability to walk in the heels and entered the room.

She kept her back to the men and swayed to the music. She ran her hands over her ass and with her red nails scratched its surface moving back upwards.

Mr. Leash turned to his friend, “Doesn’t that look like ....” His question trailed off as both men stared wide-eyed at Liza as she turned to face them.

Liza smiled slightly when she saw both men simultaneously rub their hands over their crotch. *It’s working* she thought and continued to dance. *They are going to be so damn hard! And I’ll walk away laughing at ***them*** this time!* She moved closer to the two men on the couch.

*********************************************************

Meanwhile ......

Liza glanced over to make sure her friends weren’t going to spoil her fun. Princess and Jane had a way of being magnetically pulled to any hard cock in the room.

Jane was up against the wall by the Englishman. She was struggling to get away but her body was pressed by his. One hand was around her throat; the other was up her skirt between her legs. Liza was impressed with her ability to struggle knowing how futile it was going to be. Jane’s face was flushed and her breathing fast and hard. *Hope he knows she’ll run at the first chance she gets. Janeypants loves to run.*

Princess, on the other hand, had no intention of going anywhere. She was bent over a spanking bench. Her Sir was in front of her with his hands wrapped in her hair shoving his cock so far down her throat she was gagging and drooling. Two women stood behind her spanking her ass to a deep red. One woman was using a wooden paddle, the other was using her bare hand. From her vantage point, Liza could see she was dripping wet. *Good. I won’t have to fight for attention.* she thought and leaned forward over Mr. Leash.

Liza straddled Mr. Leash and ran her fingers through his hair. With her other hand, she reached over to Mr. Milton and let her fingers cover his chest and move lower to his pants.

Each man reached a hand toward her ass, jarring her back to her senses. For a moment, she had almost lost focus due to the two cocks silently begging for her attention. She pushed herself to her feet and slapped their hands away. *I’d never get away with that if either one owned me* she giggled to herself.

Liza turned away from the men and stood with her back to Mr. Milton.

“I’m hot, sticky sweet. From my head to my feet.” And Liza bent forward allowing Mr. Milton a full view of her ..... assets.

She dropped to her knees, turning again toward the men. Her arms were so close together, one breast released itself from the lingerie. She sat back on her heels and took the straps off of her shoulders letting the garment pool around her waist.

Liza brought her hands up in a feigned show of shyness and covered her exposed breasts. Then she did several things at once. Her head fell back and her nails dug into her white flesh, drawing pink lines across both breasts but avoiding the nipples. She drew a sharp intake of breath as she herself dragged those same nails from her knees along the insides of her thighs.

*Damn. I’ve got to stop doing that.* Liza chastised herself for, once again, getting lost in her own moment instead of carefully focusing on exacting the revenge she sought.

Mr. Leash and Mr. Milton stared, seemingly transfixed, on the sight before them. Neither the yelps from Jane, nor the increasingly loud moans of Princess distracted them. It was to Liza’s own detriment that she mistook the looks on their faces.

She remained kneeling between the two of them and reached over to the belts of each to unbuckle them.

*All’s well that ends well* and she smirked inside her head. She thought herself the victor. They were right where she wanted them. Hard, disoriented by their own desire, and oblivious to her plans.

She deftly undid the top button and unzipped their pants.

Commando! These men had no use for restraints on anyone other than their prey.

Liza leaned forward. One hand cupped her breast, the other trailed toward her center. *They are hard. I’m wet. This is perfect!* she thought. *Almost there. Those domly ones will think twice before laughing at me again.*

Her hands went back to the men. Nails tracing up the shafts and around the heads.

That was her undoing. She was a cockwhore. She should’ve known better than to create her own temptation.

“Yes, baby” whispered Mr. Leash.
“Very nice, Red” growled Mr. Milton.

Liza melted. In retrospect, if either had used any other term, she would’ve been able to continue. As it was, they didn’t ... and she didn’t. And a whimper escaped her red lips as her eyes closed.

She was jolted her to feet and back to reality with a ferocity that belied thoughts of a dream turning into a nightmare.

Each man had stood, grabbed her arm, twisted it behind her back and stood on either side of her.

“Our turn” they said in unison.

My very first Dominant and I parted ways.  I learned an important lesson.

 

I'm needy.

 

I need structure

I need focus

I need accountability

I need to be valued

I need to be praised

I need to be known

 

and most of all

 

I need attention

She was led into the room. Shuffling her feet. They were not bound, just her wrists.  Her feet were free and cuffed but the blindfold covered her eyes and made her trepidatious.

 

"Secure her" said Madame A.

 

Ms. B and Ms. C were more than happy to comply.

 

Her arms were held above her and secured to the St. Andrew cross. Legs spread open and locked into place.

 

"Please no. I can't do this." she whimpered into the dark.

 

Madame A whispered in her ear, "You can and you will."  With that A removed the blindfold and commanded, "Look at us! "

 

"Watch us," A said a little more softly. 

 

Ms B held a flogger with long tails in her hand and cracked them menacingly.  Ms C held something in her hand that was harder to discern, a chain of sorts that didn't exactly look like a chain, too many extensions.

 

Ms B swatted her pussy with the flogger.  "NO! Not until I tell you," Madame A commanded.

 

Clearly there was a hierarchy. Madame was in charge.  We were her puppets.  All of us.  Serving her.

 

Madame came closer to her. Madame A grabbed her by the face and pulled her in.  The kiss was forceful and compelling, not gentle and reassuring as she had hoped.   Her arms locked over her head ached.  

 

"Look, pet. Look who I've brought with me." With Madame's finger still on her chin, her face was directed to the darkest corner of the room.  There he was. Madame's beloved.  He sat in the corner and she could just barely make out his silhouette.  The puff of the cigar lit a portion of his body.  She could hear the gentle chuckle as she absorbed the darkened figure.  Canadian whiskey in one hand, the cigar in the other. Each arm on the length of the chair.  Any chance of merciful escape was dashed.

 

"Proceed," he deemed. A slight nod of his head to the orchestrator of the night's events.

 

"Fuck you," Madame laughed.   "I will proceed as I wish."  With that Madame moved that hand to clasp the throat of her, squeeze tightly then move to her breasts.  "Ms C, please proceed."  Madame pinched her nipple to make it hard for Ms C.

 

Ms C moved closer.  "May I?" she inquired of Madame?  "You may," was the reply..  With that Ms C leaned down to suck both nipples in turn to hard, little nubs.  Ms C moved a hand between her legs and with a single stroke, went from her ass to her clit.  She couldn't help but moan and move her hips ever so slightly forward, wanting more.

 

"Now, now," chuckled Madame.  "This is not the time for that."

 

Madame kissed her hard, one last time.

 

Ms C knelt before her.  Her nipples were hard. She was wet.  What more could be demanded of her?

 

Ms C came closer and sucked her clit from base to tip, making her moan and writhe.  Suddenly the gentleness was gone. Ms C moved and manipulated.  "Unnhhhhhh," she uttered at the clamp attached to her swollen clit.  Ever so slowly, Ms C twisted it harder.  Ms C move up and attached each additional clasp to both nipples.  

*deep breaths*

 

"I will hear no more from you," Madame said softly and strapped a ball gag around her neck pulling tightly in her mouth.

 

With that, Madame and Ms C pulled away.  "Now!" commanded Madame.    Ms B flung the flogger straight between her legs.  Her cries were muffled by the gag.  *It is just as well* thought Madame.  *This is the beginning, not the end.*

 

The blows came in a flurry.  Across her breasts, bound by the clamps. Across her stomach, bare and exposed.  Between her legs, swollen with the third clamp pressing down on her.  The flogging made her whimper and whine.

 

"May I?"  Ms C grinned mischievously at Madame.  "You may".  Madame declared.

 

********FUCK******** she screamed into the gag and in her head.  Did the clamps being removed hurt so much more than when being applied?????

 

Ms C knelt before her lathing her with the tongue on her clit.

Ms B promptly placed her lips around each breast in turn.

 

"Release her." declared Madame.  And Ms B moved to the cuffs that held her wrists.  Ms C clicked and released each ankle in turn.

 

"Pet?" she inquired as she removed the gag.

 

"Yes, Madame?"  she was breathless.  The pleasure and pain bringing her to the brink without release.

 

"Are you ready?"

 

Her mind screamed *Hell yes!** and she fell to her knees.

 

Slowly she crawled to the unlit corner.  The faint light of the cigar still burned.  He had watched it all and knew Madame would not disappoint.  He wasn't there to serve, he was there to be serviced.  As Madame wished.

 

"Come here, baby." he coerced. Trepidatiously she move closer. Arms from above her head, legs spread out and secured, flogged, sucked, clamped, painful still.  Yet she moved forward. "Please?" she was pleading.  She turned to Madame, "Please?"

 

"You may," she ordained.
 

With that permission, she positioned her mouth low.  To the base of his shaft just above  his balls.  Drew her tongue along the vein and moaned.  The taste was exquisite. She moved down again and took each ball into her mouth in turn.  He was pulsating.

 

"Yes, baby" he whispered.  "Now".

 

She moved upward.  Suddenly she felt the sting of the spiked paddle!!!  **What in the ever loving hell was happening?*

In a daze she continued, pleasuring him while she received blow after blow.  Her ass pained.  The strikes of the paddle hitting her pussy.

 

She fervently sucked him. Up and down. Slowly, then faster in rhythm with the blows.

 

She heard him cum before she felt it in the back of her throat.  Swallowing every last drop.

 

"Good girl". 

 

That is all she needed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*the following was written for me and with me 9 years ago. He is since passed away. *

 

 

 

She was quite a contrast. A quiet shy redhead, well spoken intelligent and articulate. She was also very specific in what she wanted and what she didn't. I only spoke with her on the telephone from a blocked number, or online. We never met in person in the traditional sense. I was never allowed to see her face.

When we met she always had her head covered and her back to me. She loved to be spanked hard and slowly, as if he savored each stroke of the belt. She wanted to be penetrated but only with a glass toy which she provided.

In fact we met once a week for four hors. I had to stop by a local coffee joint for a prepaid drink. My instructions were always in the cup. We meet for four hours once a week and never in the same place twice.

When I arrived she is already naked bent over a crude and rough table so her body is forming a 90 degree angle. I always feel during our sessions there is some one there watching but I don't have any proof.

She always talks with me, we have a great rapport, and talk about a wide range of topics some personal but never specific. There is an easy air about her, cautious and restrained. Sometimes I think this is a sort of therapy for her, a release, I look forward to these meetings as I know she does......

 

 

 



She does. She needs this. The anonymity adds to the thrill.

Each week, she changes the meeting place. Attempting to dissuade him from contact that would compromise her integrity. She starts planning their next encounter before he ever leaves the room.

While she controls the time and place, she knows that the beating is all his. His to issues as he wishes. A belt? A hand? A whip? It is not for her to decide. She presents her ass and accepts what he offers.

She needed no aftercare. He was with her. He would never leave. Their connection went beyond the moment. It was more than visual. It was a mental connection that drew them together. A physical connection that she could handle emotionally. He was there.

And as she heard the door close behind him, she closed her eyes and felt his lips on her forehead. The words he couldn't speak, for she had forbidden it. "You are mine."

 

Mr_Milton
The mental connection that initially drew them together , had morphed into more. A physical connection then an emotional one.... It was all very compartmentalized, but nonetheless existed in various intensity levels.

He had never been part of such an interesting but decidedly different relationship. A relationship that revolved around the administration of pain; spanking switch various implements...

Was it therapeutic? Yes I believe for her it definitely was. I found the interaction to be very interesting and a chance to study her: reactions, emotions, body posture, the way she abosorbed blows, her conversational topics, Yes this was extremely interesting.......
 


She took the time to recover, get dressed and pick up her belongings. The soreness accompanying her moves made her smile.

This one will last more than a few hours she thought to herself as she got into the car and winced.

She headed back to the office. Her original intent was to go straight home and work the rest of the afternoon there, but something pushed her to go back.

She wasn't superstitious but she was following her instincts as she took a variety of turns that were not enroute to her office. Normally when she scouted a location, it had to do with privacy, this time felt different.

When she stopped her car, she left the motor running and simply stared. The blood drained from her head and she felt faint. It was exactly like in her recurring dream.

No. No. No. No! No! NO!!!!!

She flung the car door open and dry heaved. She wasn't ready. He wasn't the one from her dream. .... was he?

Whatever she tried to control in her real life was lost in this moment. Her façade was cracking and crumbling before her very eyes. Because the truth was, it was her waking dream as well. She could never admit that, even to herself.

Yet here. now. Her desire was bringing her face to face with her unspoken fantasy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It didn’t take all that much planning. Liza knew Mr. Leash and CWM (Charles Winchester Milton) had become friends and were planning on attending a **private play party.** She wasn’t exactly qualified to be an exotic dancer but she thought the basics were obvious. Shaking her breasts, seductively touching herself, rubbing up against them.

This was the plan. They would be attending the function without submissives of their own and Liza would make them feel the pain of an unreleased erection. She was going to make them as hard as possible and leave them hanging; waiting for more. The thought made her laugh to herself.

With one last glance at the full length mirror, and a small sigh at wishing she had more to work with, she grabbed a coat and left the house.

***************************************************************

“... and she came before I even had a chance to remove the second clamp!” Mr. Milton said and the two men laughed.

They continued to exchange stories of subbie mishaps as they gave their drink orders to the submissive behind the bar. She was wearing a deep red half corset that allowed her breasts to hang in front of her. Princess enjoyed the approving glances and compliments she received when ordered to wear the skimpy garment along with her silk thong panties. She was a servant for this event and not permitted to wear shoes. In actuality, she would be spending more time on her knees than on her feet anyway.

From the other end of the room, the men turned their head at the sound of giggling and laughter. “I see Jane has made the trek out to this end of the country. Who is that man talking to her?” Mr. Leash asked his companion.

“Well, considering how terrified she is of sadists, I’m sure it must be that English guy from the Bay Area. If anyone can catch her and force her to give up her control, it’s going to be him.” answered Mr. Milton.

*************************************************************

The evening progressed and various scenes began. The two gentlemen were still engaged in conversation but it had moved from anecdotes to fire play. They were deep in conversation when the lights lowered and the music changed.

Def Leppard’s *Pour Some Sugar on Me* began to play and the men’s attention was drawn to the end of the room.

Trapped!

She'd have to think very carefully before her next move. Being in the middle of the ocean didn't provide a great many opportunities for escape.

Her father's merchant ship had been overrun by the pirates. They had killed nearly everyone on the ship. She and a few of the crew were spared. Those that were allowed to live agreed to join the pirate crew and replacements for the ones who were killed in the short-lived battle.

She had insisted on going with her father this time because he was headed to India. She had been fascinated by the scents, sounds and sights from stories she would hear from other travelers. After all, she was 19 and more than capable of handling herself, right?

While in India, she was enthralled by the market center. She bought so many new and wonderful things. Saris, head scarves, bangles for wrists and ankles, rings, and this lovely chain to wear around her waist. She loved the cold touch of it against her skin each time she put it on.

Now she was trapped in the captain's quarters with no visible means of escape. He came into the room as she was just starting to search for a weapon that would keep the animal from attacking her to fulfill his vile, animalistic desires.

The captain was no small man and stood over 6' tall. She could see he held several of her scarves in his hand. "Disgusting beast", she thought. "I'll have to wash those 10 times to get his stench off of them."

He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed her wrists behind her back and rapidly secured them with the dark purple scarf. Then he took the yellow one and blindfolded her.

"Ye can't run, if ye can't see, poppet." he said in a bemused tone. "Now, I'd hate to ruin that pretty garment of yours. If you put up a fight, luv, I'll slice it off of you with my blade. If you relax, I'll take if off all nice and proper for ye."

He gave her a moment to weigh her options. The thought of destroying her favorite emerald dress was too much. "I'll be still you filthy pillager." She may not fight physically to preserve her clothing, but that didn't mean she would comply verbally.

"There's a good girl, pet." he laughed at her insolence.

He kept her hands bound while he undid the lacing and ties that seemed to have her wrapped better than egyptian mummy. But he had to remove the scarf around her wrists to get it off completely.

She couldn't see him, but she could hear him humming. She could smell him, too. Surprisingly, he must have bathed because his odor was clean and manly. As he got close again, she smelled something else. Rum! "Drunken sot." she thought.

He pushed her onto the bed and straddled her body. There was no way she could get away but she struggled anyway. He grabbed one wrist and pulled it over her head to attach it to the headboard with the scarf. She hit him with the other until he repeated his process. Even though she was naked, blindfolded and couldn't move her hands, it didn't stop her from using her legs to kick and thrash with all of her might.

After some time, she was breathing heavily and realized he wasn't even within kicking distance. He had let her wear herself out by her futile struggling.

Suddenly, she felt his hand grab her ankle and rapidly secure it to the foot board. This caused her to be reinvigorated and attempt to connect her heel with his genitals; lashing wildly in any direction she could. He made quick order of securing her final appendage.

She could hear him still humming softly, standing next to the bed. "You are a disgusting beast of a person. I shan't even call you a man for that would be too much of a compliment. You don't even deserve to live among swine in their pens."

This got a soft laugh out of him. "Ye think ye won't take any pleasure from this, miss? I think ye be mistaken." With that his hand moved slowly up her thigh and his fingers slid into her with ease. She could feel her own wetness begin to spread on the covers. She was humiliated and turned a bright shade of red. "Yes, miss, I can see that ye think so poorly of this lonely pirate." again he chuckled.

"It's been a long time since this sword was sheathed properly, pet. This first time won't last as long, but don't you worry your pretty head. We'll take care of ye right and proper before we drop you on shore." he whispered in her ear.

He shed his clothes quickly and moved between her legs, again stroking her wetness and spreading it all over her. Her breathing became heavy and ragged but not because of exertion this time.

Without warning, he pushed into her and fucked her hard. She felt like he was using a battering ram and couldn't discern the pain from being stretched from the pleasure of the feel of him inside her. His promise of a quick end turned out to be more of an idle threat. He thrust into her again and again until she could no longer hold back. Her orgasm released in floods around his cock and soaked the bedding beneath her. The spasms continued until he spilled his seed, marking her as his own.

Her humiliation returned. Not just because she released so much fluid over him; not just because she felt warm and sated; not just because of the pleasure she received and gave. No, her embarrassment stemmed from the burning desire to repeat the act, but only with him. She was ruined for any other.

Let's talk about sex baby ....

Did I miss the memo? Is the lifestyle only about sexual gratification?
What if I want more?
An intellectual and emotional bond that is all encompassing of the physical and mental.