Emergence 2

It was not until I reached my thirties that I, Miriam, began to toy with the idea of pain play in my sexual fantasies. I glimpsed something in myself the time I bit my Paul's neck and then his dick. It started out as a playful bite, gentle almost. He whispered a sigh, and well, his eyes, they seemed to be begging for more. My grip on him tightened and my bite deepened into his flesh. He whimpered a sound raw with an edge of pain. His back arched. His hips thrust up to offer more of himself to me, evoking in me a thrilling delight. My nipples sprouted and my clit ached with the need for something more. It left me with a chilling realization about myself.

Gradually, as we connect on deeper levels, our lovemaking has taken on a darker tint. I have become more vocal and commanding. My orders, rooted in a fiery passion, are starting to come more naturally as I allow myself to feel and become the woman I know I am meant to be. And, though he is broad shouldered and sculptured in muscle, he is becoming more pliant as I maneuver him to positions more characteristic of a submissive. There are times he resists me in our daily life together and in our sex play. But, I seem to have an innate ability to provide solace as his fears surface. I sense the struggle in him, yet to my amazement, his willingness to obey me has become more evident and apparent. I am flexing my dominant muscles.

The call comes as Paul and I are enjoying a debate over coffee. Our friends are leaving for the weekend and need someone to watch their home in the country. Anastasia, my friend and Mistress of the house, is my closest confidant. She is also a mentor to me in the world of domination. She ended the conversation with the phrase "... and of course, Miriam, you will have full use of the amenities."

Zachary and Anastasia are players in the BDSM scene and have a dungeon in their guest quarters. Paul and I had been to play parties at their house on occasion, but always as observers. An odd feeling, a mixture of excitement and anxiety, strikes me as I hang up the phone. Paul and I chatter on a bit awkwardly. The prattle dwindles into a silence laden with anticipation. The day of reckoning is upon us and we both know it instinctively.

The drive to their house is long and ends with our entry into the winding driveway through the fragrant and brilliantly colored gardens. We hold hands as we approach the front door of the house. With a quick glance full of portent, we enter. Paul finishes unpacking before I do. He goes downstairs and I hear muffled sounds as he prepares for our scene. After settling in, I take my time in dressing. The leather corset fits snugly around my firm, ample breasts. I snap the garter to my black-laced thigh high stockings. The deep, dark green of my velvet cape flows behind me as I descend the staircase with a regal air. My hand lifts to settle on his offered elbow, and we walk together to the entrance of the guest quarters.

We find ourselves poised at the doorway to the dungeon. Being a gentleman, he opens the door and with a sweep of his arm ushers me in. I take tentative steps forward into the chamber, a bit daunted by the haunting feeling in the room. My heart is lodged firmly in my throat. Doubts cluster and linger in my mind threatening to drown my will and determination to finally assert my dominance over my lover. In his own way, he has been coaching me for this moment, by giving me subtle hints and clues as to how he wishes to be handled. It will be a test of wills and a test of my willingness to let my inner bitch come through into living flesh.

The dungeon itself is designed to create an aura of mystique and power. The cool stone walls are pierced periodically with steel hooks, sometimes at odd angles. I lower my head and close my eyes to muster up my own courage. The room itself seems to summon my darker side.

I note the strength and resolve evident in his stealthy and sure movements. He steps around me. I tilt my head back and fling the edge of the cape over my shoulder. Taking the hint, he unclasps the brooch at my throat and my cape slips over my shoulders. Goose bumps trail in the wake of his fingertips as they gently brush down my bare caramel arms. The air is energized as the sensual touches trickle down my skin. The smell of frankincense fills the room and the candles he has lit, as I was dressing, flicker. I breathe deeply, calming my racing mind and pounding heart.

He stands behind me for a full minute. Finally, I lift my hand at an angle to my right and snap my fingers.

"Strip."

My voice is soft. He moves not at all. Despite our previous play, he seems conflicted about whether he will obey, or perhaps I am not clear enough in my command.

"I said strip, slut. Strip slow and easy. NOW slut!" I repeat in a voice not so quiet and one full of determination and indignation.

When I look up, he has moved to the center of the room and is standing at the foot of the bed. He begins the slow strip tease. His movements are sluggish at first, as he seems unsure of himself. With a quickening pace the buttons come undone. The soft powder blue of his shirt shimmers for a brief instant as he tosses it casually aside. My gaze, intense, is fixed on drinking in the sight of him gradually peeled naked before me. Urged by my obvious fascination, he sways his hips and turns to show off his scrumptious ass. As he rises to face me again, fully naked now, our eyes meet. My fingers curl invitingly. Heeding the beckoning call, he approaches me with his hands shyly covering the twitching bob of his cock. My head tilts back slightly as my spine straightens. Rising lust intensifies in me drawing me to my full height. My hands slip over the curves of his shoulders on either side of his neck. With a gentle pressure I command him to kneel, my hands guiding him to the floor before me. He looks up to me as I gaze into the azure of his eyes. Suddenly overwhelmed with surging emotion I pull him close and cradle his head in my belly. I am feeling a mixture of gratitude and love, yet at the back of my mind is the urge to overpower and overwhelm. I bend down to comb my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head. He breathes a sigh.

"I am yours," his voice, sure and steady, rises up to me.

Drawing strength from his words, "You are mine, my treasure and love," I reply.

He cants his head and his cheek brushes against my wrist. The scent of jasmine wafts from my skin; his nostrils flare. My gaze grows steely as the dark passion wells from deep in my center. The tide of emotion sweeps over us. My finger curls under his chin, tilting his face to mine. Our mouths meld, deconstructing the elements of passion into a breathy inhalation of lust. Ravenous kisses send thrills of pleasure through me. A glimpse of his growing erection elicits the dew to form in my loins. My cunt lips fill with a surging, warming wetness.

I feel the energy course through my veins as, breaking the kiss, I straighten and stand upright. My right foot steps to his left side and my left foot moves into position as I straddle his thighs. My cunt lips move to his face. My hips rotate and push my clit to his nose. A hand in his hair, fingers curled to his scalp I begin to grind to his mouth.

"Suck it, slut. Eat my cunt, NOW."

He stalls, knowing this will rile me. I shove my cunt harder to his mouth, mashing my cunt lips to his own. He mutters something inaudible.

"Is that a protest?"

"No, Miss."

Finally, his mouth opens and his lips clamp over my clit. His succulent kiss draws my throbbing nub into his mouth as his tongue circles the tip of my clit. He groans as he tastes me. I can tell by his more dedicated sucking how much more he is enjoying this. My lush creamy juices coat his chin and upper lip. Growing lust inspires me to grab his head more forcefully, and with a shriek of pleasure I begin to circle my hips in a downward spiral to his mouth.

"Tongue, NOW!"

His tongue quickly darts from his mouth and begins to explore my entrance. My slit gives way to his probing pushes. As he begins to tongue fuck my slit, my hand slips to my right breast. The nipple prickles to its full length, pinched in my fingertips. Saliva pools under my tongue at the delicious sounds of his sucking and at the speed with which he is now obeying my orders. The pull grows magnetic as we begin to move as one. His head held in my hand as I guide him with nudges and pushes deeper into me.

"Teeth! Bite me, NOW, slut!"

Before I finish speaking, he reacts, biting at my clit. His sharp teeth cling to the base of my throbbing bundle of nerves. Exactly as we have practiced of late, his timing and pressure drive me to a frenzied fit. My hips respond with deeper motions. I begin to smother him with my luscious, engorged cunt lips smearing my cream over his mouth as my clit grinds into his nose. He gasps for breath. His eyes veiled with lust as he glances intermittently to mine. I watch him carefully and hearing his gasp, allow him to inhale a bit of air along with my dripping juices. I am marking him internally and externally as mine, my slut. He has mentioned how he can smell my cunt juices for hours following our face sitting play. My teeth gritted, I snarl unwittingly. I stop suddenly as the pleasure crests in me. Panting I step back and let go of his head before the orgasm can express fully.

"No, please, Miriam, I need you," he hisses through juice covered lips.

I play best when I am on edge, in a savage state of mind. He knows this about me. It is something we have discovered together in our explorations. I look at him feeling the raging power of my lust; the lust he provokes in me. Barely able to contain a contemptuous laugh, in this moment I begin the transformation into a bitch. He seems to crumple into himself as if to cower beneath the suddenly cruel creature I have become. Lights seem amplified and glow in a haloed glimmer. I notice his pores open and a bead of sweat drips down his temple. My nostrils flare and a feral growl rumbles from my chest.

Honestly, for a moment I am at a loss as to what to do. Part of me wants to coddle him and comfort him, assure him that he is loved. He looks forlorn and in despair. But the bitch in me is not ready for the soft tenderness. She is emergent and becoming fully alive. She is cold and needy, greedy to test his breaking point.

"On all fours, slut."

He stares at me for a moment and as the words register he sinks to the position. I am pleased with the rapidness of his response. I move around him, feline, prowling over him. My heels echo with sharp clicks through the chamber. The sudden stillness is punctuated by his breaths coming in shallow gasps. My toe rises to nudge at his groin, correcting his posture, so his ass is held high. It is a luscious ass, firm round and more than a handful. The sole of my foot presses down on the back of his neck, forcing his head down in the prone position with his forehead to the ground. He is now in a prime pose for me to spank that inviting rump.

Placing my left hand to the small of his back I smooth my right palm over his ass flesh. His skin is soft. His breath becomes raspy. Raising my hand I begin by tapping his ass cheeks. He is silent, probably out of machismo. Slaps ensue. They start off gentle with the occasional stinger peppered in. He is not reacting vocally, so I smooth over the heating flesh in soothing strokes. Taking aim now, I begin to spank harder. Each blow targets the widening blush of red. Blood rises to the surface in thick welts. His body reverberates with each smack. His skin blossoms under my attack. For what seems like an eternity, but is in fact a minute or so, my pounding is relentless. Hitting him directly perpendicular to his tail bone, I finally elicit the beginnings of deep groans.

My pace slows, and I smooth over his steaming rump, blowing cooling air over the heat emanating from his body. He whines, and I feel his ass wiggle. His hips move supple and lithe. His ass is hanging high in the air and the almost pathetic sounds indicate that he is ready for more. I take a moment to breathe and calm my own excitement. By now my hand is hot and red as well. His ass flesh is showing clear imprints from the sharp stinging blows I have inflicted. I continue, the thudding, glancing blows intermittently mixed with more violent slaps. His breathing is in tune with my rhythm. His groans and yelps come in time with the unforgiving contact of my hand to his ass. This is the most I have hit him, and I need to know if he can take more.

As the temperature of his skin rises, I pause briefly to check in with him. "Had enough, slut?"

He sputters, the spittle foaming in the corner of his mouth, and nods in the affirmative. He is at his limit.

Peering between his thighs, I see that he is fully erect now. The sensual beating of his ass has obviously filled him with pleasure. We have reached a milestone. He has never responded to a spanking with this level of arousal.

Admiringly, I grasp his cock and stroke it, pointing the head to the ground and massaging his balls as I manipulate his head and shaft. He moans deeply. I watch a droplet of clear precum dribble from his piss hole to the ground between his knees.

My own arousal is barely under control. My mind twists into knots, trying to decide what to do next: jerk him, suck him, fuck him with a strap on, or satisfy my own ache to have his luscious, thick, hard cock fill me. I stroke his cock, feeling a crackle of intense energy between us, filling the room with a pungent, primal, sexual scent. I particularly enjoy his cock because it has a peculiar curve that seems to project directly to my g spot from a variety of positions.

I grab his hips and hiss "On your back, slut!"

His cock is rock hard. I can smell him, his lust and need. It is written clearly in the wild fluttering of his eyes. His mouth opens and closes with silent yowls as he lands on his back. My eyes blaze with fury.

Moving as a demon possessed I straddle his groin. Grunting primitive and beastly sounds I reach back and position his cock so his head is pointing at my slit. Greed has bested me and all I can think of is his cock in me. Grabbing him by the base I shove his cock deep and hard into my slit. The cream is already seeping around his head as I rear back and slam down hard. I like it rough.

His perfect do is mussed now with stray hairs plastered on his sweaty forehead. He is descending into a mental zone where pain is pleasure and pleasure is what he exists for. With a nasty scowl, I reach back and twist his balls in my palm. He squeals. Partly terrified, but mostly begging for more, his body writhes in unnatural contortions. I ride him as he bucks, driving his cock deep into my tunnel. My knees scrape the stone floors as I plow down over his erection.

We are fucking savagely without mercy or remorse. My orgasms are welling up inside me. Sweat drips from my face, splashing on his belly. Bracing myself on all fours, I capture his gaze in mine, and order him "Fuck me. Fuck me hard!"

Instantaneously his back arches, his motion embedding his cock in me. My ass cheeks clench and my muscles pull tight, as I hang suspended between heartbeats, lost in the depths of primordial lust. Before I can breathe again, my cum gushes as my body is wracked with spasms of pleasure from his cock touching me, just so. I barely manage to bark the order "Cum, slut!" because the thought of his orgasm in me is driving me over the brink. It always makes me cum harder when I feel his load spurt into me.

We float in the aftermath. Sitting on top of him I'm covered in a mixture of sweat and cum. His skin glistens in the tawdry light. His orgasm sent him deeper into his zone. I can tell by his sounds, shudders and expression that this is the deepest he has gone with me. His head lolls from side to side. His chest heaves as he struggles to calm himself. We are panting. It is at this moment I realize we are breathing in unison. My inner bitch recedes on a rip tide pulled to sea. As consciousness returns, so do thoughts. My mind struggles to maintain control. My heart is elated at the conquest.

Euphoria suddenly engulfs me. I feel boundless gratitude to him for letting me use him so. Moved deeply, I hover over him cradling him in my arms. I cover his face in soft kisses. Murmuring words of praise, pleasure and pride. I strain to catch his words as he mutters quietly. Leaning close with my ear to his mouth I hear the word I have been craving since I administered that first bite. "Mistress."