It's all she can think of right now. She can't grasp the thoughts of just a moment ago. Can't even get her mind back to a calmness that would allow them to flow into her from whatever ethereal place they dance away to when they are in a playful mood. She tries to set her mind firmly on the task of getting them back, but they slide off as though she were floating on a river of ice. There is too much keeping her from that kind of peace.
Her back arches again and she feels her control slipping away. "Please" is ripped from her lips. A pitiful plaint she wishes she could stuff back into her mouth.
Instead, it is his smooth hardness that pushes its way over her tongue. She has barely the wherewithall to grasp at it and open to take more. He's told her when he gives it, she's to take it - and she wants it. Oh, how she wants it. Her need is coupled with the fear of not doing what he's told her she must. It makes her gag and sputter, though without her trepidation she would take his cock with gusto and delight.
She gobbles at it, greedy as a cat after a long chase of its prey. It pounds its way between her lips and thumps the back of her throat again and again. She gasps and struggles to be ready for the next ramming, but it comes too fast and she can do little more than open for him and let it thump her. Just when she fears she can take no more, it stops and she collapses her neck, panting, face into the comforter. Weary, yet wanting.
Where he'd had a handful of her hair, he now strokes her scalp. He is saying something, but she can't hear. She is panting too loud. The only thing louder is her heartbeat and his voice is soothing as a breeze over scorched earth.
"I know you didn't hear me. Have you stopped listening?"
She casts wildly about for a clue to what he might have said, but there is none. She feels tears welling up, a response to impending punishment. Instead, his fingers are firm but gentle and his lips touch her head.
She has learned that his tone and touch are poor cues to his next actions, however, and she feels her heart race to leave her behind. She fleetingly thinks of begging it to stay, but it will do whatever he wants it to and she can do little more than watch as it jumps to his bidding. The pounding crescendos in her ears. She hears it and sees in his eyes that he feels its escape is near. He holds it beating in his hand and he stretches it out to show her the palpating mass torn from her chest.
Instead, his fingers stroke her behind the ear. "Can you hear me yet?" His voice is tender as new spring buds. "Poor baby. You've worked so hard. You deserve this. You know that don't you?" She can't swallow, but she finds she can nod her head. It bobs loose on a stalk too long for the weight at the top. She doesn't know if he means that she earned a punishment or reward. What she is going through could be either.
He coos at her. "You did deserve it. I need you to listen though." She nods again. Tries to show her alertness but finds herself bound in a fog of tremors. The cloth bindings are nothing to the stupor he's induced in her limbs. The turpor of her movements come from the uncertainty of him. The mystery of his needs and the unknown demands he will make of her next.
"Listen carefully because I want you to do well. I need to take you. I need to pound your wet little cunt and feel it come on my aching hard pole. Do you understand?"
She manages a nod. Tears sting at her eyes, but moisture runs down her thighs. He's going to torment her even more than he already has. She is at the end of her ability to keep control of any part of herself. Her legs start shaking violently. A combination of fatigue and fear and need take her over.
He waits patiently for it to pass. "You've done very well. I've made it easy for you. I've pulled away and kept you from orgasming to this point. I've kept you from displeasing me. If left to yourself, you would have cum no matter what I say. You would have been as bad as you have been good while I am here to help. Now you're going to have to do some of this yourself."
Outrage leaps in her. She's been holding her thoughts at bay for what feels like hours already. Every moment has been a struggle to push her thoughts onto some banal subject rather than let it drift into the torrent of thrill he's been dunking her into. She's been doing anything to keep the visceral sensations from the front of her mind. Keep any hint of carnal enjoyment from creeping into her soul and to somehow keep her head above the currents dragging at her entire being. Those that will drown her in ecstasy.
She's been hours pulling her own hair in an iron fist of denial. Now he claims to have made it easy! If she could swallow, she would protest. She would snatch her heart back from his hand and show him her suffering in no uncertain terms. She squirms in her bindings, but his hands smooth down her shoulders, reach around and pinch her nipples. One then the other. Her body leaps off the bed. The pain is unimaginably sharp and the throb in her clit overwhelming.
His voice sounds so reasonable when he speaks. "I know you've been working hard. I do appreciate that. You've got a long way to go, though, to please me. You'll have to work even harder to do what I need."
His hands are soothing on her shoulders and neck, they dance over her aching muscles. She sighs in spite of herself. A long deep sigh that shakes her chest and empties her will.
"You are not to cum until I say so. That orgasm is mine and I want it. When I tell you to, though, I want it all. I want your pussy grabbing, squeezing, sucking and yanking my hard cock dry. If you cum before I tell you, I will shove my rock hard pole through your ass, pull out and shoot everything I have all over it, whip it raw, then leave you needy and unfulfilled." He pauses to emphasize his point. "I want to make sure you understand this because I will not give you a second chance and I want to fuck your dripping pussy. I will be angry leaving here without that."
He pauses a long breath. "And there will be a punishment severe enough that it will never happen again." Another breath. More of a heated panting, followed by his quiet murmur. "Do you understand?"
She tries to talk, but feels herself dry up all the way through her throat. She tries to nod, but her muscles won't obey.
He bends and kisses her lips. Nibbles them. He softly and sweetly pulls them one at a time into his mouth and chews them. Her moans come. They bubble up inside her and slip out into the night. She tries to hold them back, still arrogant at his claim that she hasn't been suffering. That he's done most of the work. That she could have done more to keep herself from exploding into unreason. Or possibly a million pieces. It rankles her that he brushes her aside so easily. That he thinks so little of her suffering. It frightens her too that he has more in store for her. Her legs and arms shake again. A shivering that shoves moans out the lips he holds between his.
His kisses lead her body on. Take her physical self away from her thoughts and beliefs. He owns her and parades his mastery for her now. His lips hold inches from hers and her neck rises from the bed as though drawn by a magnet more powerful than her ability to resist gravity. His fingers draw lightly across her back and she melts. The bedcover sucks her in and she bizarrely thinks she will slip right through the restraints he has placed on her. The ties that hold her ankles together, her knees tight and her arms spread wide. His fingers will melt her and she will be free to resist him if she wants.
She won't though. She wants him. She needs him to take her. She's needed it her entire life and never knew. When his hard cock pushes in her next, threatening to rip her apart, she'll writhe again. Not because she doesn't want it. Because she can do nothing else. Because he likes it when she struggles. When she squirms and wriggles. He likes it when she can take no more. When she begs him to stop while at the same time, he well knows that she couldn't bear it if he does.
