As soon as you arrive, you know that you're in trouble.
Normally when you come through the door, you get the hug of the month. Or at the very least some serious touching as you kneel on the floor in front of me.
Today I'm cross and cruel and you're the recipient of my mood. Justified in part by my frustration with our lack of play and in whole by the times you've asked me to be cruel -- at least in my mind. I'm not interested in asking what's in your mind right now.
"Strip, slut and get on all fours."
You know you're in trouble. At this point, you decide that obedience is the better part of valor and quickly move to comply.
If you could read my mind -- and to a large extent you know me and read me well enough to do so -- you would know that I'm in the mood to inflict pain. That I am sexually frustrated and longing for play, that I have been so for weeks, while you have been unavailable and my other play partners have been their usual uninspiring self. I have amused myself by writing about what I want to do and subsequently have lived through it so many times that I want to do something different, more extreme, more satisfying.
"Come here."
You do so, wondering exactly what is going on this time. If you were anyone else, I would have a crop in my hand and you would be shuddering in pain for the next half an hour, except for the times that I stroked you back to pleasure, to enjoy the contrast. As it's you, I can't inflict pain, except in the most roundabout of ways. I can fuck you, hard. I can torture your cock and balls. Neither are really things that you consider a hardship as you get enormous pleasure from them, physically and mentally.
"Kneel up in front of me. Knees apart, show your cock to me."
You do, looking up at my face, then closing your eyes. I crouch down, balanced on my heels and lightly scratch my nails on one of your nipples, then pinch it delicately.
"Play with your cock slut. I want it hard as well as wet."
Hesitantly you start, this is not always easy for you to do in front of me. Which is of course why I'm doing it. Today I want to make you beg, make you very sore and frustrated yourself for a change. I'm watching you as you stroke your cock, you can hear me breathing, feel my breath. I'm playing with the same nipple again and you keep going.
I reach between your legs and tug gently but firmly on your balls. You breathe a bit harder, keep stroking. Firm becomes hard, insistent. Your cock is starting to get hard and very wet now. I certainly hope that you haven't come recently, I want this to be difficult for you. My fingernails scratch your balls, tug them hard.
"Do you want to come for me?"
You know that the answer to this has to be no, I've found (to my regret) that when you come it's all over. But the answer to this also has to be yes, because physically that freight train is gathering momentum, ready to roar down your spine.
yes miss, i want to come, but i know i'm not allowed to.
Sensible answer. You don't know exactly how true that is going to be today. I'll wait for a while before telling you that today, you don't get to come.
Your breath is coming harder now and you're starting to gasp, miss, miss, I know that you're getting closer to coming.
"Stop."
You stop immediately, hands falling to your sides. I push up to my feet and grab your hair, tugging hard, pulling you along behind me, just a little off balance and clumsy for a moment, such a rarity. I drag you over to the dining table, again something different. As I said, today you're not getting it your way, no comfortable bed for you to kneel on.
I've laid out the toys that I play to use. No kisses and caresses for you today, you've pissed me off, left me high and dry. I pick up the leather flogger, it's soft enough that it won't mark you but hard enough to hurt. Particularly as the only thing I'm able to use it on is rather -- shall we say -- delicate.
"Knees well apart and hands behind your back slut."
I give it a moment or two. While I am angry, I'm not unappreciative of your beauty.
The first strokes land very softly, falling on your cock. You're not expecting this and your body jerks slightly before settling again. You know I won't mark you, can't damage you. I swing harder and see you set your jaw, determined not to make a sound. That doesn't last, four or five strokes in and you're hissing with the pain, half moving away from the stroke, half moving into them. CBT is a game you enjoy, even as it hurts.
Normally I would play like this for a short while and then give in to my own desires. But my desire to inflict pain is currently outweighing the one to receive pleasure and you're suffering for that. As you should. I stop for a moment, lean forward and scrape my nails up your still very erect cock.
miss, miss, miss ...
Frantic already, I see. I stop, I don't want you coming at all today. Is it time to tell you that? Not yet.
We wait, while the urgency of your impending orgasm recedes. I should at least tell you something of what faces you today.
"I'm in the mood to hurt and to tease today slut. You've kept me waiting and ignored me, now it's your turn. I suggest that you be very compliant and eager to please me."