Mein Braves Madchen On The Edge

I roll my shoulders, pushing back against H's sturdy frame. My hands are still grasping a slick, leather paddle, one of my favorite of H's toy collection. I smile to myself as I see him take note of the paddle in my hand. Usually, in our admittedly short history together, if I touch a toy or indicate interest in it, H obliges. He knows I love the paddle, and the prospect of a sound beating is exciting.

H grasps the hem of my dress, pulling it up and over my head in one smooth motion. I feel his breath against my ear.

"Pick a number between 1-10."

I'm intrigued. "Eight" I say. I don't hesitate. "It's my lucky number."

"We'll see," he responds with a wicked grin. H lifts the paddle out of my hands, before sliding off my bra. Moments later, my thong joins my other clothes in a pile on the floor. I start to bend forward over the side of the bed, sticking my ass outwards, anticipating and assuming that I'm moments away from feeling the painful kiss of the paddle. I smugly think that taking eight lashes of the paddle will be child's play.

H stops me with strong arms, pulling me upright again. "Not tonight, Mein Braves Mädchen."

My cheeks redden, embarrassed. H lifts the hair from the nape of my neck, and I move to hold it aside for him as he wraps a soft leather collar around my neck. I sigh into the feeling, consoled by the instant contentment of submission. His hands roam further down my body, squeezing my breasts, caressing my thighs. He growls in my ear and bites my shoulders. "What was your number?"

"Eight," I say, my hands reaching for him, tentatively.

"Eight it is, then," he confirms, speaking more to himself than to me.

He moves away and returns with cuffs and a spreader bar. He places two cuffs carefully on the bed in front of me, out of reach, but purposefully in full view. He kneels and places a cuff on each ankle, gently testing the tightness of each. He runs his hands up the inside of my legs, barely grazing my clit. He is teasing, torturing me. I shiver. In response, I get two sharp slaps on the ass. I moan.

H bites my shoulders again, adding more pressure each time until it is just at the threshold of being too painful. H has my nipples in his fingers, twisting and pulling them in delicious timing with his bites. I am squirming underneath him and feeling his body pressed against mine is driving me mad. I'm struggling to resist the urge to reach out to him and rip off his clothes. I settle on carefully reaching back toward his legs, using them to help steady myself.

A strong hand wraps around my torso and I see a flash of silver before I feel the pinch on my nipple. As H adjusts the clamp, the slight pinch becomes more of a constant pressure. The effect on my body is swift. His hands move to secure a clamp onto my other nipple and I moan in response, my chest pushing forward into the pain, and into his palms. He takes a step back, appraising me.

"Mein Schöneon Braves Mädchen," he murmurs, gently lowering the clamps until they are dangling from my breasts. I glow at his words.

H moves, and my eyes follow. He undresses slowly, unconcerned by time and my gaze, before moving to sit on the bed. I am perplexed as he leans his back against the headboard and spreads his legs, but I am delighted by the view. My mouth waters and I subconsciously bite my lower lip. My eyes meet his and he smiles as he motions me forward.

"May I?" I ask, unable to look away from his beautiful, growing cock.

"Yes," his reply is simple.

I kneel before him on the bed, slowly taking the length of him into my mouth. My tongue elicits a groan as it runs slowly down his shaft and back up again. I slip my tongue forward and slide my mouth down the length of him. His girth makes my jaw ache and I can feel the tip of his dick bumping into the back of my throat. I can also feel him gasp, and the power I feel to bring pleasure to him wipes out all discomforts. I feel a hand on my head, fingers entwining themselves in my hair. H gently pushes downward, testing the limits of my abilities. I gag slightly and the pressure ceases. I look up at him and smile around his dick, letting him know I am ready for more. I want more. He obliges.

This time as his hand pushes downwards, his hips thrust upward. A devious trap, I gag again, this time more deeply, my eyes beginning to water. H moans his approval. I'm encouraged. I begin to move my mouth on his dick more quickly and deeply, picking up the rhythm from H's hand pushing on my head. I can feel him getting close to coming, and suddenly there are two hands one on each side of my face, pulling me more forcefully onto his dick. I resist the urge to gag again, determined. As he reaches his climax, one hand moves to the top of my head pressing down, and another pulls forward to pinch my nose closed so I cannot breathe. The cum coating the back of my throat becomes my only purpose, to swallow and serve and please my sir. I am rewarded with a loud grunt of satisfaction and I am delighted.

He releases me and I pull back slowly, licking my lips. A hand caresses my cheek.

"Water," he says, pushing a plastic bottle into my hand. I drink, thankful for the cool liquid soothing my used throat. He motions for me to sit with him and I do. I curl into the space between his legs, leaning into his chest as his arms wrap around me. His fingers leave light trails on my skin as we sit in silence, content just to be. I do not notice the passing of time.

H reaches down to lift my chin, drawing me in for an intoxicating kiss.

"What was your number?" He asks after a moment, more to remind me that we aren't done for the night, than anything else.

"Eight" I say. Still perplexed.

"I'm going to give you one chance to change it now." He offers, face unreadable. I consider the offer. I know better than to ask why I need a number in the first place.

"I'll stick with eight," I say, feigning confidence.

"Okaayy," he says, tilting his head, a slight smile accompanying an I-warned-you tone. Goosebumps coat my skin.

H shifts me so that my back is leaning against his chest, between his legs. He stretches down and lifts a spreader bar from its place against the nightstand.

"You're going to be implicit in this, my dear" he says, "put it on." I lean forward. The first ankle is easy as I shift my legs and clip the cuff to the bar. The second is more challenging, but I persist and soon I have my legs splayed open in front of me, knees bent. H taps them, telling me to lower my legs until they are flat out in front of me, making a V shape on the bed. He slides his legs over each of mine, locking his ankles underneath, effectively holding my legs in place with his own. He pushes lightly on my back, and runs a hand down my right arm. I lean forward as he guides my right wrist behind my back, into a cuff. The same is done with the left, and they are clipped together behind my back. I lean back again and close my eyes for a moment. Legs spread, arms cuffed, nipples clamped. It feels good to being restrained by him, I'm calmed by his presence and his self-assurance.

My calm is interrupted by H pressing the smooth, motionless head of a Shibari wand firmly against my clit. H rubs it slowly up and down, tantalizing me, before finally turning it on. When he does, the vibrations send shockwaves through my body and I'm writhing against my cuffs. Quickly, I am on the edge of an orgasm.

"Sir, may I cum?" My voice is a whimper, a whine.

All motion stops and I am undone. That questions is usually a formality with us. H has never denied my orgasm before.

He denies it now.

"No." he says, I can feel his muscles still tense from restraining my struggling body. As I slowly regain my composure, he lightens his grip. He runs his hands up and down my arms, humming softly to help calm me. When I am still again, H speaks, lips kissing my ear.

"That was number 1, Mein Braves Mädchen. Remind me, what was your number?"