In the Dar

My world is darkness and silence, heavy as velvet. I am naked, kneeling, back straight and knees spread wide as I've been taught. My hands are bound behind me so my tits push forward. A slight stirring of the air makes my nipples harden. I know, somewhere, he is watching and smiling. A trickle of wetness slips from my pussy and trails down my ankle.

A finger brushes my lower lip, and my tongue slips out to lick it before I can stop myself. The finger is withdrawn and my face gets slapped, leaving stinging fingerprints. I hang my head, acknowledging my error. Fingers grasp my hair and pull my head back. The finger again brushes my lip and this time I open my mouth as I should have before. Warm, smooth skin brushes my lip and I open more, suppressing a smile as his cock teases my lips. I wait, not wanting to be corrected again. Fingers return to my hair, and my head is held still as he invades my mouth. I shape my mouth into a willing, eager hole for him, knowing that's what he wants from me. He fucks my mouth for several minutes, making me moan in spite of myself, and I struggle to not move, to keep my wanton hips still.

Too soon he pulls my mouth away and pats me on the head. Panting, I sit back on my heels again, feeling the trickle turning into a steady stream of juices down my inner thigh.

I hold my breath, straining to hear anything that might hint at his intentions. I curse myself for giving him that bit of information; the things I'd learned to anticipate because of their special sounds. In return he has sealed me within myself, desolate.

I gasp as fingers trail across my breasts, sliding, scraping, squeezing. He touches me everywhere except those exquisitely sensitive nubs. I shiver and barely manage to stop myself from twisting, trying to capture the touch I crave. He knows and I can imagine him chuckling. I know my lesson today, one simple word, the one that trips me up even as I yearn to achieve it..."submit."

Fingers are replaced by tendrils. He dangles the strands of the flogger whisper close to my nipples, brushing them lightly. I hold my breath and wait for the burn as he snaps it, and the tendrils turn into vicious bites. He targets my nipples relentlessly, with occasional forays around and between my breasts. My world becomes dual pinpoints of heat that reach inside and complete the connection to my pussy. I twitch and tremble and know I'm moments away from disaster. My thighs tremble with the effort to remain still, and I suddenly realize that I'm moaning softly. My lips begin to form a desperate "please" when the attack ends abruptly.

He steps close to me and I sag against his leg. He brushes my cheek and I can feel him rumble something. He pivots behind me and releases my wrists. His hand slides down my arm and clasps around one wrist, tugging at me to stand.

Once I'm on my feet he leads me across the room until my knees bump into the large low table that I know is off to one side. He taps me on the shoulder and I climb onto the table, landing on all fours. His hand brushes down my spine, kneads my ass. He taps the back of my thigh and I spread my legs farther apart. His fingers slide from my ass down to my slit. I know that I'm dripping wet already and know that will amuse him.

He still manages to startle me as his fingers plunge into me, stretching, invading, twisting around as he explores me fully. My thighs begin to tremble again as I struggle to remain still. The battle of wills is on as he drives me closer and closer to the edge with each thrust. How do I resist the thing that I desire most?

The moment that my pussy begins to twitch and my hips begin to move he is gone. I choke down a whimper of disappointment. My tormentor, my savior, slaps my ass then wipes his fingers on the backs of my thighs.

My breathing slows just in time to howl in surprise as a line of fire explodes across the sweet spot at the top of my legs. Lightning quick blows follow the first one, the cane dancing over my ass and thighs. I can imagine the cross-hatching of marks that I'll have tomorrow. He likes seeing that almost as much as he likes making them.

Now my real struggle begins. How much can I take before he breaks me down? I need to be good for him, I need to take it. He wants to hear my pain, but it's so very hard for me to let go like that. I try to find my voice for him even as I fight to stay silent. I dig my nails into the table's edge. Blow after blow rains down until my swollen cunt betrays me, catching a blow that nearly makes me fly off the table as I shriek.

In an instant his arms are around me. I can feel his voice, skin to skin, as he holds me close and blots at my tears. He scoops me up and puts me back on the floor. I try to regain my balance and he grabs my hair, pulling me up and tilting my head back.

He wipes his slippery cockhead all over my cheeks, my lips, even my forehead before thrusting into my waiting mouth. He ravages my throat with hard, deep strokes. I slurp him down eagerly, greedily, licking him as much as I'm allowed until he pulls away once again.

Warm, sticky splashes land on my cheeks, in my hair and over my lips. More cum splashes on my breasts, and he winds his fingers tight in my hair to keep me still. After a few moments his fingers slide through the warm gobs, as if finger-painting my face. He scoops the splashes off of my breasts and feeds them to me, making me smile and sigh with contentment.

He deftly removes my earplugs and the blindfold. I blink despite the dim light. I gaze up at him and he smiles.

"Good girl," he says, brushing my cheek.

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Dear Reader: Thank you for giving some time to my very first story. I'm eager to know what you think so please vote and leave comments. I can only learn with your help.