The rich, hardwood bedframe at the Crane Resort is imprinted in my thoughts these days. The tall bedposts, carved in intricate designs, stand elegant and powerful atop the polished tile floor. The idea of the winds blowing off the sea, carrying the warm, salty mist up the cliff, is so erotic and romantic. Imagining the sounds and visions of lovers that have shared each other on that very spot transforms the Crane into a mysterious and magical venue.
Immediately, my fantasies of Marissa take us to the Crane, where our sexuality knows no bounds. To make it our own private world, I imagine the bedposts draped from the tips to the floor with sheer, white netting. Weighted on the ends, the netting remains in place, but dances as the sea air presses into it, as if desperate ghosts of eras past beckon for admittance. Candles throughout our room flicker, floating their delicious scents of lavender and vanilla. The world outside our netted haven is blurred, shutting out anything that isn't me or my Mistress. This image has become the ultimate definition of the perfect world for two eager lovers. A world where Marissa's prowess reigns supreme, and her every desire is played out.
I'm imagining each of my limbs tied to a bedpost with a bright red parachute cord, and blindfolded with a thick, red silk necktie. I can hear her voice, her lips barely touching my ear, whispering to me in the most dominant, powerful way. No specific warnings or demands are given, just the utterances of a gorgeous Mistress who's been held back for too long. I feel myself falling deeper into that warm place where I give myself completely to her lust and desire, and where I know no pleasure but the satisfaction of my Mistress.
Suddenly, I feel her wrapping something under my balls and over the base of my cock, and like a noose, tightening it until the first welcomed shot of pain races through my veins. Without hesitation or concern for my comfort, she's fastened the same bright red parachute cord on my manhood, and symbolic of her complete ownership of my body and mind. The slurping sounds of lubricant are heard, and without warning, a thick, black plug slides into my ass. There is no warm up, no introduction. Marissa is taking what is hers, and playing with me for her own pleasure, not mine. With a quick, firm tug of the cord, she informs me that the time has come, and I'm to be the perfect pet she trained me to be. If not, the painful consequences would be felt for days.
I know from previous experience that she demands that I respond with "Thank you, Mistress" after each action is taken. I will not miss my cue, and offer my gratitude. I can feel and hear a vibrating dildo gliding down my neck and chest, while her leather riding crop randomly thrashes down against my legs and feet. The blindness and uncertainty has my pulse racing. I sense her quick, deliberate movements, and feel her anxiousness to use me. Her thick, delicious lips pounce onto me at surprising intervals, and I realize that my dominant Mistress has been whipped up into a sexual rage. I tighten and clench, fearing that she'll be unable to control herself, and deliver more pain than I can endure. Soon it's only her heavy breathing that I can hear. No words are needed to understand what's on her mind.
She whispers to me, half-panting, "Alright pet, I'll let you choose what comes next. Either I'm going to slap and bruise your balls, or I'm going to fix nipple clamps onto you. What is your choice?" I respond with, "Balls please, Mistress, thank you."
I feel her slip something over my head, and a ball gag is pressed into my mouth, fastened tightly around my neck. "This will hurt you, Pet, but it brings me great pleasure. You'll wear this gag to prevent your screams from alarming the other guests."
Having been blinded, all of my other senses are on full alert. I hear her wrapping the cord around one hand, then lifting it straight up. My back arches upward, instinctively trying to bring relief to my balls. This attempt is of no avail, as it only makes Marissa bring more pain to my balls. Over a several minute period, she squeezes, slaps and whips my balls, each assault triggering a raging but muffled scream from me. The black leather riding crop is snapped against my balls and cock, and the searing pain has me on the verge of begging for mercy. But I know that will bring only more pain, so I endure it gratefully.
My balls become engorged, red and throbbing. My heartbeat is pounding, and I'm breathing as if I just sprinted the length of the beach below us. The effort to elevate myself off the bed and loosen the cord's tug leaves me fatigued, and I'm unable to maintain that position for long. But with each upward tug of the cord, and the resulting slap against my balls, my body still tries desperately to bring relief. Eventually, it's to no avail, and I try only to align my body to the wishes of my Mistress.
"Oh good boy, my pet, you're doing so well for your Mistress. You need to know who owns these balls, so as uncomfortable as it may be, it's important that you feel me bring you this pain. Your screams and groans please me, pet. They show me that I have your full attention, and that you know that these aren't your balls, but your Mistress's. I'll keep a constant tug with this cord, my precious pet, and I expect you to be grateful that I've chosen you. Are we clear?"
I attempt "yes, thank you Mistress", but the ball gag allows me only to give a muffled grunt, my own saliva dripping across my face.
"I know, baby, it's hard to talk with that ball gag. But it's for the best, isn't it?"
I offer a dignified whimper, to which, Marissa lets out a compassionate sigh.
"Now that I have your complete attention, pet, I'm going to use a cock pump on you. This too will be uncomfortable for you. But fear not, my little pet, this too pleases your Mistress. I need your cock pumped full of blood and hard for me."
My cock is extremely sensitive at this point, and I'm constantly on edge about the next slap or whip that may sting it. I feel something being slid down the length of my cock, and then the overwhelming feeling of pressure ensues. After several minutes, my tied, beaten balls are reddish purple, and my cock is stiff and huge. I pound the bed with my wrists, begging for it to stop. Marissa lays next to me, her fingers tracing over my chest. My breathing is fast, and she senses my rage, and sees my clenched body arching next to her. "Shhhh, my little pet, your Mistress is here and will take care of you. Your cock and balls look so sexy baby. I know they cause you pain, but I'm so turned on by the sight of you. Your obedience is not lost on me, my pet. You will be rewarded for this in my own time. For now, I've decided to share you with someone, and you won't disrespect or embarrass me, pet, now will you?"
I shake my head in agreement, trying to conceal the fear of what may come next.
The door to our room opens, and I feel the presence of another. The person is silent, and no scent is detected. I hear the sheer netting part, and feel the bed depress under the weight of this visitor, as they crawl between my legs. As Marissa continues to whisper into my ear, the visitor's tongue glides over my throbbing, hot balls. Up my cock glides their tongue, and I realize that I'm getting a blow job from an unknown person. The visitor seems to know exactly what has transpired, and how sensitive my cock has become. The pressure of their suck, and the tightness of their lips around my head has me gritting my teeth. I can hear Marissa moaning as she watches. The sound of her wet pussy being fondled is nearby, yet I know not what is touching her beautiful, wet cunt.
"Now, Pet, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that you do not have my permission to cum," informs Marissa, her voice now anxious and distracted. After ten minutes of a hard, intense blow job, the visitor leaves. I can feel their warm saliva on my cock, dripping onto my balls.
"You're never to speak of that pet, do you understand? If I choose to discuss that with you, I'll mention it. If you bring it up at all, you'll be severely punished, and we both know that you don't want that. Are we clear?"
