Having just received a delicious session of punishment, I was face down, strapped down, and trembling into the bed. His hand caressed my ass, and then traced around my labia. I tried to move my body up into his touch, but he took his hand away.
"Oh poor pussy," his dark voice calmly stated, "you think that you're going to get to come... don't you?"
"Pleaassseee.." I called out without thinking, my voice whiny, even to my own ears. I desperately wagged my ass up and around searching for his touch.
He tsk-ed in an amused fashion a few times, which made me flush with embarrassment and secret thrill. How I loved being teased by him, it drove me wild. There is almost nothing that gives me more pleasure and honest contentment than him knowing that I can't think, I can't control myself, nor do I care about anything else than obtaining my sweet release and satisfaction.
I could feel his hands trailing up over my ass as he walked up to my shoulder again. His words blow hotly into my ear as he says with devious glee, "No, oh no my poor slave, you're not going to get to come for a while."
I moaned into the bed, pouting.
"You're going to have to earn it, sweet girl" he stroked along my shoulder and down my back again, and I languished in his touch, "Yes, you're going to have to show me how good a slut you are."
This got an audible moan out of me, and an involuntary lifting of my ass as I relished in what he was saying. I knew that he would make me beg, that he would break me down, and tease me mercilessly. I knew that he would do these things because they would bring him pleasure. I knew he would do them to bring pleasure to me, and, I knew I deserved it. I loved it.
"Yes, I can!" I bleated out through my hanging hair, my ass still up and waving, searching for his touch to relieve some of the building ache in my cunt.
His open palm smacked against my quivering pussy with an audible wet noise. It hurt me, stinging against my tender and swollen flesh. I squawked in surprise, but already pressing myself up into his hand.
My complaint came out in a whiney grumble as I felt his hand slip away from me, leaving my wet cunt cold and longing in the open air. He tsk-ed a few times in contentment, and I heard that he was making his way back up to my head.
"?K
I turned to face him, shyly peeking up over my shoulder, letting my hair cover most of my face.
He stood next to my head, and held his hand out, palm up, towards my face.
I could smell the musk of my own juices immediately, and I tried to bury my face in the bed again. I was once again torn between the thrill of his knowing me for the wanton whore that I am, and the intoxicating embarrassment and suspense of being found out for what I am.
Roughly, I feel him grip my shoulder and flip me. I'm tied still, by my wrists and ankles, so when he rolls me, my hands and feet cross to accommodate the ties. I can move less than I could before, and I'm effectively holding my face up towards him.
He holds the palm he used to spank me up towards my face again. Again I am overcome with the pervasive scent of myself.
My eyes flit up to his, and my heart skips and spasms when I see the dark glow, the sadistic glee, and perverse joy shining down at me. I still, as if hypnotized, by this look. I need it. That look frees my soul from darkness - it shines a light into the pit of black and warms me to the core. I need to be possessed, used, loved... but possessed, ultimately.
He smiles down at me, his hand above my mouth. "Lick it." he says gently, his other hand wiping my hair away from my brow.
I groan and press my face, as best I can, up into his palm. I don't lick, but I part my lips, and my nose is buried against his flesh.
"Go on, my slut, lick your come off my hand." His other hand is now snaked into my hair, gripping tight and holding my face against his palm.
I moan into his hand, my tongue peeping out from between my lips, and touching his skin. I taste the salt of his hand, and the unique tang of my juices. Now he doesn't have to hold onto my hair, I feverishly press up into him, my tongue running wide, flat passes against his open palm; much like a dog. I'm greedily trying to both arouse myself more by tasting my cunt, and please him by cleaning every inch of my come off of him.
"My my, what an eager mouth." He petted my head with his other hand, while the hand I lavished with my tongue suddenly slipped a finger into my mouth. "Yes, I like to feel your mouth work."
I groaned around his finger, feeling it curl down the length of my tongue, and tickle the back of my throat.
