Fantasy In Venice

A personal fantasy that I wrote down on request for my ex-Dom. We separated amicably and I hope He does not take offence by my publishing this story. I'd like others to enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Hmmm, I'm not entirely sure how to approach this. It's difficult to truly put the abstract into words! I shall try,and apologize for any loss of grammar Sir. I am simply so excited by the idea of You using me in this way.

So, the setting is always the same, Venice. I have no idea why. But it is always in a quiet (OK, this is a fantasy, right! No tourists permitted!) canalfront tall house, with a veranda leaning out over the canal and nearly touching the other houses across. There are many rooms but we are always in either the bedroom or the study. It is always dusk or night, and the room is lit by a tall standard light with pleated cream shade and candelabras on the walls. Lots of dark wood framed mirrors, ancestral paintings and the walls are unpainted or just old, I'm unsure. But antique'ly stained and parchment-like. The floors are black with age but smooth and well kept. I don't know why the detail matters, but it just does!

In the bedroom, the bed is a large canopied four poster with cream sheets. It is a saggy thing, beautiful but very old fashioned, with carved wood scrolls on the headboard and it feels intensely like it belongs in a Victorian ghost story. There is a beautiful cream wicker chair facing out a small window, the scent of the canals mixed with flowers which surround the window to sweeten the air. It's a warm evening with a slightly clammy breeze. I don't know how we got there, where You are or any details like that. All I know is I'm sitting in that chair every time, just picking out the far away sounds of a restaurant and the occasional gondola floating almost silently past.

The study is through an archway and is similar in decor save one wall is purple. There is a more medieval feeling in here but it remains true to the house. A huge oak desk is set by the window so that You can sit and work with the light on Your back. The wall has a number of tapestries on it, and more of the cast iron candelabras to provide evening light. They are always all lit and flicker the light around. The bed can be seen from the desk and vice versa, the two rooms spanning the whole width of the house. The rest of the house is below us and accessed from a stair case in the study. There are wardrobes, chests and other essential furniture scattered around.

I hear You come in downstairs and stay sat down. The air is slightly cooler here and I'm always wearing a cream chiffon dress, empire line so busty, with a very light and see through skirt to it which suits the hot climate. No shoes or underwear, just the dress for modesty as I went to buy fruit earlier. My hair is curled and glossy and free. You enter the room and put Your hands on my shoulders silently, leaning to run Your face through my hair, breathing in deeply. I feel instantly aroused, just by being below You and having You nuzzling softly. You move the hair aside and kiss my neck, hands tightening on my shoulders. One hand goes to my neck and You trace it downwards and forwards until my chin is in Your hand and You're tilting me to You, then kissing me deeply. I drink from You, feeling calm and soothed. I feel the whole of You above me and moan as You pull at my face, dragging me upwards. You turn and move to the study and I know without any words that I must follow.

Once there, You remove Your tie and let it drop to the floor. I instantly sink and collect it with my teeth, to place it neatly on the chest to one side. You pay me not the slightest attention as You remove Your waistcoat, undo the top two buttons of Your shirt and fetch lengths of supple leather from a wardrobe. I move to kneel in front of the desk, waiting for my orders. Still no words have been exchanged.

You walk around me, scuffing my dress underfoot without a thought. My hair is bound up with a shorter fibre, roughly and without care for its style merely the removal of hair from my neck. A few footsteps away from me, and back, and I feel Your hands remove my daycollar to slip Your leather private collar around my neck. I shiver, my nipples aching already. There is no feeling in the word like the sensation of this, being collared and knowing that it is for Your pleasure.

You grab me by the scruff and haul me up, then deftly unzip my dress. It falls straight to the floor and I'm naked already, naked and exposed through the window and being pushed back down to the floor. Finally You speak to me, just two words, "All fours". I fall forwards to obey and I can almost FEEL Your smile. You put Your foot on my back and press downwards. I fold in on myself, into a ball, my back under Your foot. Almost instantly You strike my back across the shoulders, and I can tell it is Your leather crop. The sensation of being hit upon the bony shoulders as opposed to the flesh of my buttocks is astonishingly painful and takes my breath away. I can't even screech or protest as a second lash falls, but by the fifth strike I am sobbing, I can feel tears pricking my eyes. I don't move though, just hold tighter to myself, closing out the rest of the room until I can focus on the pain. This is my escape and I must concentrate. Feel each nerve stinging, not fight but accept.

The next three land one upon the other and My belly retches, behind my eyelids the world goes green and red. For the first time I truly consider calling my limbs to action and running, jumping out of the window seems possible. But then no more lashes fall, and I feel You crouch beside me and soon I'm in Your arms, being cradled on the floor. You call me Your sweet slut, stroke my face and my hair, pepper me with kisses. You smell of sweat. I have no idea what I did to earn what just happened, and You don't volunteer the reasons either. It was a whim, nothing more nothing less. Somehow I'm pleased.... if I had been found wanting I would cry even more.

You usher me to my feet and open the drawer to Your desk. It's not locked but I have never looked inside, it's Yours, not mine, and so unexplored. You pull out a corset, a full deep plum velvet with exquisite black lace around the lacings and borders. I think it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! Wrapping me in it You fasten the steel busk at the front then press me to the desk, and I feel that the corset is lined with supple and tender leather too. Pulling tightly, my breasts begin to foam over the top, my waist being cinched in further, further, further until I'm breathless and my back held straight as a poker. You tie the ribbons and they fall, lengthened due to the tightness of the corset's application, to tickle between my buttocks.

"Kneel" and I fall swiftly to my knees but straighten up against the desk. I can't kneel back on my heels, the corset digs into my thighs when I try. You unclip my collar and replace it with a sturdy deep posture collar. Now I'm held firmly, only my arms and knees can freely bend, and all with two simple and beautifully feminine items. I cast my eyes to the side and cant see much detail save the swell of my buttocks beneath the corset and a flash of plum, the collar is velvet lined with burgundy leather, to match the corset. I can't stop smiling despite the rather uncomfortable sensations, I feel utterly fabulous!

You come between the desk and me, close and tightly squeezed. Your cock is out through Your flies and pressed against my lips, wordlessly I am set my task and accept You into my mouth. The collar feels difficult and clumsy, normally my neck provides the flexibility needed to please You in this way. You know full well that I can't move and give You the kind of attentions I want to but still urge me on, staying still at Your hips instead of helping me. I can kiss and lick the deliciously glistening taut flesh of the tip, but as for the shaft, the only way I can suck You entirely is to lean my whole body into You in one straight line. I put my hands on the desk either side of You and do this, press-ups to let You fuck my mouth.

Fuck my mouth, the words echo in my head and I feel my pussy clenching tightly down onto nothing. The way You feel in my mouth, the taste, the scent of Your crotch, I'm driven from feeling beautiful to beautifully aroused. I desire that cock so insistently and urgently that I can almost feel my juices pouring.

I want it, want it badly, and try in the only way I can to provoke You to fuck me, taking as much of You into my throat as I can and choking, thick strands of mucus from my throat being dragged into my mouth and sliding over my tongue. My hips curl in arousal only to be hindered by the corset, constantly being reminded that I am trapped in my own attire. Still not even a twitch of Your hips to help me, I'm having to fight my instincts to push You into my mouth, knowing that such slutty sucking should make You want me.

You growl, push me off You and wank into my face. Quickly, deftly and entirely against Your usual leisurely behavior, I only have time to look up to You with a puzzled expression before you cum in my face, splattering me with thick spunk.

"Sometimes, My dear," You gasp as Your hand stills, "Sometimes, You need to remember that You just don't get what You want!"

You heft me up, covered in messy goo I'm bent over the desk and firmly pressed to it, bent sharply at the hips, corset and desk slicing into my thighs and face pressed against the leather top. Cock still hanging loosely and rudely from Your trousers You fasten me using the leather cords. It bites firmly but not tightly into my wrists as they are led over the desk and tied to fixtures on each corner. My legs are stretched wide until they near the feet of the desk and are duly lashed to them. I cant see anything save the wall , my face pressed harshly to the leather and unable to raise my head due to the collar.

You leave. I hear You in the bedroom, making calls. Mundane TV begins to echo through the rooms. Then the sound of a dvd being put on. Moaning, the crack of whips and I realise You have a D/s porno on. All the while my arms are hurting, but nothing so bad as the top of my thighs. My cunt feels cold compared to the rest of me as she keeps soaking with juices which evaporate. I can smell me and taste You. My face dries.

I listen to Your footsteps, hating it when You must sit or recline as they stop and I can't focus on where You are. I consider calling out for You but know that will just make my restraint last longer. My tongue moves in my mouth, not so clever as my brain, but I swallow the words. Finally You come close to me and a wet, cold something slides up against my clit, over my slit to my arse where smoothly and deftly it burrows in. A plug of some kind and maybe metal, it stays cool briefly before vanishing into bodyheat. Just a wide feeling remains as the texture of the plug and my arse merge to my senses. I groan, nipples have popped over the top of the corset by now and are pressed against the desk, if I wriggle they pull and snag slightly as my moist flesh meets leather, making my clit buzz with electricity.

With a smack of my arse You vanish once more, footsteps into the bedroom where the moaning and groaning and clear sounds of thighs against thighs tells me You're watching someone be well fucked. A streak of jealousy hits me full force in the belly and my body seethes. My mind is losing focus now, it feels an age that I've been strapped to the desk and I ache all over when I move in my bonds, joints wanting to be released. But squirm I do, because I can't help it. All I can think is I want I want I want I want....circling and spiralling need.

Footsteps again and I feel a sudden bloom of agony as You hit me. It rips all over my buttock and I know instantly it's a paddle this time. I growl, I can't help it, it fucking hurts and I wasn't expecting it. Shaking in my bonds my joints are all fire, hot stabs of agony to match the single swipe.

You leave again, and I start crying. Why why why why....I still have no idea what is going on in Your mind. I hurt all over.

Footsteps a third time, and I brace this time before another paddleslap blossoms over my bottom. The same cheek and in my agony an abstract off-balance grows. Silly thoughts, bump one elbow and you have to bump the other. I feel like I'm leaning to one side but I know full well Im not. The craving for symmetry is matched by my craving for You.

The pain steps down a level and my senses return, my mind comes back from the place where it hides in ridiculous notions when I'm in real pain. I picture You behind me and know that You gave it Your all that time, Your arm must ache a little too from that. You re-balance me with three sharp but lesser slaps to the other cheek and I come back properly. Im naked from the waist down and strapped. I feel arousal return, threefold what it was and tell You so. "Please Sir! Please Sir I need You!"

"I know." Footsteps away again and the tears return, anger and sadness and frustration all together.

A long break this time and I just fluctuate between frustration and longing.

Finally footsteps once more. A fleeting thought of what next then Your hand, >smack<, hard and right on my cunt. Climax flares but fades into a stinging haze as my clit finally feels something, only to realize it hurts, hurts desperately. I hear You lift Your hand, the rustle of Your shirt, and guess that You are tasting me. You put Your hand over my face, leaning over to me. I feel every inch of Your body against mine.

"See slut, how much You want me...desperate little Slut."

You rub my face, then step behind. Shuffling noise then slap...paddle brings my bottom to the furnace again. I haven't even come down from the pain to hear Your footsteps, only my sixth sense tells me You aren't there when I return.

A while again and my legs have gone numb until I sag, then my wrists pull and ache. I can't hear You, just more moaning from the tv.

Footsteps and I'm scared. I hurt too much now. I don't know what to do, brace or relax, I'm all a whir. Only this time there's no pain, just a hot pressure and *oh my god He's fucking me*. I can't speak, the feeling so blissful that I am lost. You're there, behind me, buried in me, and all I can think is >thank You ohhhhhhhhhhhh thank You!< I think I moan, purr, growl...something, but not words. Words are too much right now and before I can find them, I'm soaring, a huge climax raging through my tormented body. Pleasure rippling up my arms and caressing my limbs like liquid flames. Wave upon wave, You're ploughing into me hard, almost frantic, and each thrust is like a gift. Slam slam slam, the desk is immovable but You're having a go at shifting it and I finally find the words, crooning and gasping thank Yous as You use me to fulfil Your needs. A second climax as You slam deeply, Your balls against my clit sending me into the peaks of pleasure again as You bury yourself, grinding and grunting as You fill me with Your seed.

You pull out, my thighs drooling with the mixture of our juices as You unfasten me limb by limb. Untying the corset it creaks and I breathe deeply. I am worn, my legs fail and I slump to the floor. Attaching Your chains You lead my by the neck painfully to the bed until I sink into the soft centre of it, and You, as You cradle me to sleep.