To think this story all started with a text saying: "*thinking about whispering into your ears the words... 'Beg. Make me feel how much you mean it'...*"
"...and that's just the start..."
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It's been a lazy day... enjoying the crisp fall air, just enjoying each others company. Our chatter bounces back and forth from the mundane to the concerns of the world and back again. Eventually our lazy day takes us to one of the parks we've been to before, again to wander the trails and the woods. Even now, I know you have those little hairs on the back of your neck starting to stand - you always have been an observant 'Little One' and trust me implicitly (albeit earned slowly over a vast amount of time), yet still... I don't know if you're noticing my tone of body language shift slightly, or perhaps that little glint in my eye when 'Sir' is preparing to surface...
Either way, we laugh and smile and continue through the autumn canopy of color dancing in the light breeze. Pausing in wonder when you catch sight of a wandering doe. Enjoying those tender moments of silence and company and nature entwined...
We pass a bend on the trail, and I lead you off the beaten path... nothing new there, both of us often taking the paths less traveled and forging our own into countless sunsets. I see you notice the fact it's been traveled before... ah yes, you are an observant one, love.
Deeper into the woods, still unseasonably warm, the sounds of the city are all but a distant memory now. The sounds of anyone else are but a silent whisper on the wind. With each passing step now, I feel my posture shift. My gait changing from casual footfalls to deliberate footsteps. My pulse steady... calm... already drumming the rhythm of a sensual intensity.
You slow down and look at me, probably to say something more in our endless conversation, and you catch yourself. You manage not to do a double take (good girl), but your eyes go as wide as the doe we passed earlier. For as much as I noticed my own subtle changes as we approached this path, your own transformation is a silent supernova of flowers blooming. Your eyes, still wide, are staring straight into mine. Your lips, moments ago doing a two step of conversation and laughter, are now slack... slightly open... in that small and scared look you slide into during 'Our' times. Yes, in front of my eyes, my blond Valkyrie shifts into something small, something submissive, something totally and completely... Mine.
I approach you and gently brush that little wisp from your bangs away from your eyes. I nod lightly and slowly at you, not once breaking eye contact yet, to do our little 'check in' as we always do. Somehow, your eyes go even wider, and you shake your head rapidly 'yes' for a moment.
At this point, I smile, lean in and whisper into your ear: "I love you..."
My mental safety catch releases. Suddenly, my hands are now my weapons and my voice is my instrument of command. My right hand is now tangled into your hair, having knotted each finger deep into the strands. My left hand is around your throat - pressing against you.
Your only reaction is your quickening of breath and an almost imperceptible leaning into my left hand.
One more exchange of nods between us, you are pushed and pulled down to the ground by your hair and neck - onto your back into the grass and leaves, with my hands still in your hair and my hand still around your neck, partially catching your breath before you even can. I hold you down with my hand around your throat - I'm still varying the pressure around your neck from just holding you down, to cutting off your breath for moments... as my other hand starts ripping open the shirt you have on. Buttons go flying, seams rip, fabric tears. Pity strikes me for a moment... it was one of my nice dress shirts. However, now it is just another tool for me to use.
I lean in again and growl: "Do *not* move unless I move you"
I release your throat and you remain as still as the bedrock miles beneath us. (Good girl) A shirtsleeve twists in my hands to become a binding for your wrists. A large piece of the back of my once comfortable shirt becomes your blindfold. Kneeling beside you, I pause to enjoy the beauty laid out before me, panting with desire.
I reach into a pocket, and pull out another tool. I can see you visibly shudder as I open the pocket knife near your ear - teasing you with that audible 'click' the blade makes as it snaps into place. Honed to a razor's edge, it barely pauses at the resistance from the sides and straps of your bra. A moan escapes your lips as I drag my fingernails up the inside of your calf and thigh... to roughly yank your skirt up above your hips. Again, the knife sings as it slices through each side of those once pristine panties along your hips. Pulling the soon to be pile of scraps higher, one last cut goes through the wet crotch of your panties... leaving only the back half still under that slightly undulating ass of yours. A quick brush of the hand slides the now removable top half of your bra away from your breasts. The knife clicks closed, disappears again back into my pocket, I lean in yet again to your ear: "You are loving this, aren't you..."
You hear the brief sound of something, and me adjusting my position nearer to you... then you feel your head being lifted from the ground by your hair by my hand - only to have your slightly open lips hit the tip of my very hard cock pointed right at your throat. As I keep my cock a mere breath away from your opening mouth, I say "Beg... Bitch"
For the first time since we stopped, your voice recovers itself. Frenzied begging, pleading and incomprehensible moans of desire pour past your lips, all but demanding I let you put me into your mouth. I let your begs continue for a bit, drawing you deeper into my web yet again, as your volume steadily rises from frenzied whispers to audible lust.
"Good girl" I say, as I slowly sink my cock past your lips and deep into your mouth.
Between your single minded focus on the cock in your mouth and the moans that send waves of pleasure up my spine, it takes quite a while for you to realize you are now starting to hear... something else. You don't stop nor miss a beat, but I can see you straining to hear what else it is in the background.
As your mind's eye shifts to more than what is happening between us, you realize that those sounds you are hearing are actually catcalls... both male and female... from an unrecognizable male voice saying "That's it man. Make her beg more!" to an unknown lady in a sultry voice calling out "Oh god. That's so hot!" Their catcalls do nothing but push your desire even higher, finally having that outlet you have whispered in the dark of lust to me about wanting to be made to feel 'dirty'. The catcalls subside a little bit, to your dismay... but you realize some are being replaced by muffled moans of both genders.
With a shade of reluctance, I finally withdraw from your mouth. Your repeated moans for more tempt me to enter you again, but that would end this way too soon. I raise your back off the ground, and gracefully flip you over... putting your bound hands in front of you, sliding your legs apart, leaving you on your hands and knees. I smile as I see the wetness glistening between and along your thighs... and refrain from chuckling as I grab the remnants of your clothes from where you once lay, moving away from you.
You stay perfectly still, blindfolded and wanton, a picturesque decadent statue. Footfalls come nearer to you from a different direction... and you hear knees land on the grass in front of you. The rough sound of a zipper on a pair of blue jeans precedes a different cock pushing against your face. Torn with indecision, you pause... until you hear me call out: "Do it."
Indecision withers and blooms into wanton again. I almost feel a twinge of jealousy for the effort you exert on pleasing the anonymous cock presented to you - however, I return to the task at hand, and grab the travel case from underneath the brush. Opening it, I quickly find my two favorite toys: 'Pride' and 'Joy', my pair of canes, and head back to you.
