Date Night

I slunk back into the house 20 minutes later. Angry and frustrated, I slammed the takeout bags on the counter and marched back into the living room where he was sitting, right where I had left him. I tossed a clothespin into his lap. "There. I lost one," I said curtly. "Now take the rest of these off me. They're pissing me off."

He arched his eyebrows at me, a bemused expression on his face that enraged me more. Instead of moving to remove the pins, he settled back into the recliner, playing idly with the clothespin I had thrown at him, his eyes never leaving mine.

The cloud of anger billowed up. "This is bullshit. I'll take them off myself."

I reached inside my shirt to pull off a pin and heard him say, quietly but firmly, "Stop." I pulled off the first pin, a moan of relief escaping me, and before I could pull my hand out of my shirt, his hand wrapped around my wrist. I hadn't even seen him move, but suddenly he was towering over me, his face a thundercloud. "You will stop. So far, you'll be wearing two. Would you like to make it even more?"

"Bastard," I muttered, pulling my wrist out of his grip. "Just get these damn things off me. I don't think I can feel my nipples any more."

He smiled at my anger and pulled my breast out of my shirt. The skin under the two remaining clothespins was bright red and angry, and a third spot was turning purple with a fresh bruise. He licked his thumb and traced over the bruise and my nipples, making lazy figure-eights with the sensitive flesh. I made an exasperated sound and he looked me in the eye, anger sparking on his face. "I've been very patient with you. Don't push me too far."

I swallowed hard, realizing how much I was pushing my luck. I watched as he looked back down at my breast, tugging on a clothespin as his thumb stroked my nipple. Pain and pleasure rocketed down to form a tight ball in my stomach. The pin pulled off with a soft snap, and I gasped, a hiss of air escaping through my teeth. Almost immediately, my skin started to darken and bruise, a small imprint of the clothespin left in the tender flesh.

The third clothespin came off before I could recover from the second, and I heaved a sigh of relief as he massaged the tender skin. The electric shocks were running to the core of me, and as my pussy grew wet and engorged again, the remaining clothespin under my skirt knocked against my thighs uncomfortably.

He pulled my shirt over my head, exposing my gray bra, and nestled my breast back into place, pulling the other one out. Repeating the process with the other breast, I was moaning and on fire by the time the sixth one came off. He reached his arms around me and pulled me to him, kissing me, his tongue probing gently. I sank into the kiss and my pussy throbbed with the last clothespin. "Please take it off..." I moaned as he pulled out my hair tie and my hair spilled down my back.

Smiling against my lips, he pressed a series of soft kisses from my lips down to my neck, inhaling deeply as his hand traveled down my bare stomach and up my leg, wiggling the clothespin under my skirt, soaked wet with my juices. The air hissed out of my mouth and I thought oh man that's going to bruise... when he pulled hard on the pin. I cried out, and he covered the cry with his mouth, hungrily plunging his tongue between my lips.

The clothespin dropped to the floor and his fingers plunged into me, finding that sensitive rough patch that made my clit throb and the sensations deepen. He started a steady rhythm, hands pumping in and out, his knuckles each time hitting the tender bruise where the clothespin had been attached, sending waves of pain and pleasure through me, indistinguishable from each other.

He spun us around and pushed me onto the couch, kneeling in front of it. I had time to mourn the loss of his fingers when suddenly his tongue was there, rubbing the nub of my clit and laving my bruised folds. I gripped the couch cushions in ecstasy as increasingly loud moans were torn from me.

My orgasm started to build in my belly as his tongue stroked me. Things were expanding and imploding and bubbling up when I cried out again in pain. He grinned up at me darkly, having just attached a clothespin right underneath my clitoris. It was too tight on the slick flesh, and he wiggled it as I writhed, crying out for him to take it off. "You're egging me on..." he smiled, and I watched him through a dim haze as his eyes feasted on his work.

"I do love when I can put you back where you belong. I admire your spirit, but I think sometimes you forget who owns you." Another wiggle. Another half-scream as the pain warred with orgasm. "So remind yourself, please. Who owns you?" He pushed two fingers into me, curling them towards that tender spot. My hips bucked instinctively, making the clothespin dance against my clit. I cried out again.

"No, oh no..." I'm lost, writhing in pain and delight. I could barely make him out between slitted eyelids as my bruises throbbed in time with his hands pushing in and out of me.

"Who owns you?" He was a voice in my ear, half-recognized, and I began to float up and outward towards it, all sense of time lost.

"You do," I breathed, earning attention from his tongue on my swollen nub. The clothespin, too close for comfort, moved with every pleasurable lick, edging it with sweet pain.

My cries grew frantic, and he stopped his tongueing to say "Good. Tonight we're going to explore some of your boundaries. I've been too lax with you recently. Open your eyes."

My eyes flew open, reflexively obeying him. His eyes were dark, dangerous, and the sight of him between my legs, my wetness on his lips, made my body clench around his fingers. "Oh god..." I moaned, his restraint and the torture shuddering through me.

"Come," was all he said, and he pulled off the clothespin with a snap, making me scream. His tongue attacked my clit, sucking and circling in time with his fingers, and the orgasm roared through me, through a wall of pain, tearing a scream from me as my body bucked like a wild animal.

Lights flashed, galaxies pulled into me, and still he sucked. It was too much, and I screamed for him to stop, pushing him away with my hands. He batted them away easily and increased his pace. "Again," he said, and the words vibrated as his lips whispered against my center. "Come again."

"I can't..." I sobbed, my head thrashing back and forth. The sensations were piling one on top of the other and I was terrified of their power, of their fierceness. I had to get away, to make it stop, but I couldn't get a foothold.

My eyes flew open again as his fingers stopped suddenly, so deep inside that it was painful. The mood abruptly shifted, and as I focused on his face, I saw the barely controlled monster that had drawn me to him in the first place. "Again," he said quietly. "You're mine, and you'll come again."

I went still, paralyzed by his gaze, and he met my eyes as he dipped his mouth back to me and put his fingers back to work. I let out a low keening sound, the sensations building, too intense for me to control, and he pulled me towards the edge of an endless cliff. Just as I was detaching myself from my body and giving myself up to him, I felt a slick finger pull out of my pussy and start rubbing on my asshole.

I lost myself, the second orgasm throwing me over, and as I screamed it out, his fingers penetrated my pussy and ass and his tongue rubbed insistently at my clit. Space and time and all notion of control was lost in the long, screaming orgasm, and part of me sighed a breath of relief as I surrendered it all to him.

Some time later, I realized that I was still lying sprawled out on the couch. My hair was stuck to my body, the sweat cooling, and my skirt was wrinkled and hiked up over my stomach. He came back into the room with a glass of water and handed it to me. "Drink something and then let's eat. I don't want to waste too much time with the necessities tonight."

My eyes met his, and I saw that control again, masking a predator that paced like a cat, waiting for the right moment. I put the cup to my lips and drank it all, feeling my body throb.