Pushing Limits

This is a multipart series inspired by a man who makes me want to push my own limits. This is fiction based on a fantasy. All characters are over 18 years of age.

In chapter one she had decided to push her own limits and offer to bring life to one of her Sir's fantasies: To watch her dominated by another woman.

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I must've finally drifted off to sleep. Next thing I know, it's morning. I'm awakened to my shorts being yanked down, Sir's hands on my hips, raising my ass for him, and before I'm even oriented, he's burying his perfect cock in my cunt hard and fast.

How I am so wet already? I'm not even awake but my pussy apparently is.

As good as it feels this cannot happen right now...

"Sir! Stop! You can't do this! I have to go first!" Wriggling beneath him, I'm trying to control my urge to pee...not helpful since the particular struggle just excites him more.

Smack! A hard slap from his bare hand lands on my ass. The sting brings tears to my eyes and a simultaneous gush of arousal from my already soaked cunt. Thank God nothing else gushed, but that was close. Why does he always insist on doing this in my bed?

"What can't I do? Tell me again what I'm not allowed to do with your cunt, my little fuckdoll."

Smack! If he does that again I'm going to wet the bed and then I'll have to burn it, then kill myself... I'm willing myself to remain calm and trying to convince myself I don't really need to pee right now.

It's no use. I'm pinned, not going anywhere. He whispers in my ear, "who owns this cunt?"

"You do, Sir"

Who owns this ass?"

"You do, Sir"

"Who owns that pretty mouth?"

"You do, Sir."

"And when can I use them?"

"Whenever you please, Sir. But I really have to pee. Please, Sir..."

"And who decides when you can pee?"

"You do, Sir. Please..."

I'm whimpering now.

"Mmmm...that's my good fuck kitten. Just want to make sure we understand each other. Go relieve yourself."

He pulls out and lets me up.

"Thank you, Sir!" as I run to the bathroom, not even bothering to look for my shorts. I slam the door behind me and as soon as I sit down he comes in. As badly as I need to go, I can't. Shy bladder. He stands in front of me, stroking his cock. It still glistens with his pre-cum and the wetness from my pussy.

"Spread your legs, kitten. I want to watch."

I obey instinctively, but...

"I won't be able to go with you watching, Sir. Please...."

"It's going to be awhile then," he says, "because you're not getting up until you go. Be a good little slut and rub your pussy for me. You'll go when you come."

I can't take my eyes off his hand, working his perfect cock. The more excited I get, the more impossible it is to go. He softly strokes my face with his other hand, and slows down his stroking. He's clearly trying to align our timing.

I rub my clit as instructed. After a few minutes of struggle, I start to come. I can't hold back any longer, and he watches as a forceful stream starts while I finger my pussy. My eyes are focused on his face, and how intently he's watching me.

I don't realize how close he is to coming until he suddenly grabs my hair, and I feel the first stream of his warm cum land on my face...another across my open mouth...more until he's completely spent and my face is spattered.

As I reach for the toilet paper and begin to wipe myself, he shoves his cock into my mouth.

"Clean it, my little fuckdoll."

After I do so, he rubs it on my face, collecting more of his cum, making me it lick it off his cock over and over. Once he's done..."Such a good slut. You have permission to wash up now."

"Thank you, Sir, for the privilege of being watched by you as I peed. And also for the privilege of being your personal cumslut, and allowing me to clean your cock with my mouth."

"That's my good girl." He smiles and wraps his arms around me from behind as I wash my hands and face. I reach for my toothbrush while he runs his hands over my back and shoulders as we talk.

"I've got two deadlines I need to meet, so no distractions, baby. If you let me get work done we'll go out to dinner and I'll show you how good girls get rewarded."

I promise, and then tell him the boring but necessary things I have to do that day and finally get my good morning kiss.

"Oh, sweetie? There is something I'd like to talk with you about over dinner." I sound more casual than I feel...a flash of concern crosses his face for an instant, but then it's gone.

"What about?" he asks, more casually than I suspect he feels.

"It can wait."

"We can wait to talk, but tell me what it's about..."

So I do. He has to jump in the shower because he's already getting a late start, but he asked.

"I was thinking I'd like to fulfill your fantasy of me being dominated by another woman in front of you and I think I came up with an option that could maybe work."

He stares at me without speaking and then...

"So much for no distractions, kitten."

I remind him I wanted to wait. He concedes that point, and as I'm about to leave him to his shower he grabs my wrist.

"Make a list of limits. Your current limits are with me and of course there will be more with her. No one is going to touch you without knowing what you will and won't do. And what I will and won't let them do to you. I'll make my own list too."

And with a playful slap on the ass I'm sent out of the room so he can try to focus on work.

It's a day off for me but since my handsome freelancer doesn't observe federal holidays, I toss a load of laundry in and remote into work to knock some things off my backlog list. When you work in tech you always have a backlog list.

Text from Sir: I know I said we'd talk at dinner, but do me a favor and text me your limit list now along with any other criteria/concerns you'd have about this. As soon as you've done with that read this story and let me know what you think.

I message back immediately, "Sure, sweetie...just as soon as I finish working. I'll take care of it."

Text from Sir: No. Stop now if possible. Otherwise, stop at the first safe breaking point, after which you have a half an hour to get me your limits and read the story and tell me what you think.

"Yes, Sir." I'm on the honor system here. He trusts me.

Limits...I hadn't thought this far yet. I thought I had until dinner. Maybe this is good news. Maybe he knows someone fun and likable! Okay...list...Obviously all my current limits more than apply. If I wouldn't do something with my Sir, I certainly wouldn't do it with anyone else.

1. She is not to refer to me as any variation of slut, toy, doll, etc. unless prefaced by "her Sir's." I'm not a slut, certainly not her slut...I'm his, and that needs to be respected. This is limited to only those names Sir calls me - anything he doesn't call me (whore, bitch, cunt, etc.) is off the table entirely.

2. Only Sir can put any type of restriction around my throat (belt, hands, etc.)

3. I wear Sir's collar at all times (unless he wants my throat accessible for him.)

4. Any gear we use will be ours or new and purchased by us. Including, but not limited to: restraints, gags, lubricants, lotions, oils, vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, and impact play implements.

5. No photography or videos except taken by Sir with his equipment. Any sharing will be solely at Sir's discretion.

.

6. No bruises or lingering marks as to me they are a sign of ownership. Any markings that could last more than the evening are forbidden.

7. If Sir wishes for her to engage in watersports with me, she must acknowledge that she is not marking me territorially by making it clear verbally before urinating that she knows I'm allowing this for my Sir's pleasure only. Also, watersports are restricted to below the neck only.

8. Any anal play must be with implements smaller than the size of a cock.

9. I trust Sir will explain my threshold for humiliation/degradation with her; any lines crossed in this area will end the session immediately.

10. Anything not covered in previously discussed limits, but which displeases my Sir, will stop on his command immediately. She needs to acknowledge before starting that she understands her access to me begins and ends at not just my limits, but Sir's as well. This is non-negotiable.

Sent. Okay now to read the story...looks like a Domme/sub story written by a woman. Interesting! I like this so far...if we could do something like this, I might enjoy it. I know Sir certainly would enjoy watching.

I bet someone he knows wrote this! I glance at the author's name and FML...yep, I should have known....Mistress Tabitha of Literotica.

That sound is my hopes of Sir knowing someone fun and likable collapsing.

I send Sir a quick review of the story, noting the irony of the author being the potential candidate I wanted to discuss in the hopes that she's more pleasant than her first impression led me to believe.

The few minutes that go by without a reply feel like hours. Is Sir angry that my limits are too draconian? Some of them seem as if I'm trying to get her to submit to Sir rather than dominate me...but that wasn't the point. I was just trying to lock in my own protection both physically and emotionally. Of course Sir will understand...at least I hope so. Was I too bossy?

Text from Sir: Perfect, my little fuck kitten. You expressed your limits very clearly. You're a very good girl for protecting not just what's yours, but also mine. I'm glad you were honest about the story. You know I don't want you to hold back when I ask for your opinion.

Next text from Sir: Put on the black silk dress I love. Patent leather pumps, the high ones. Black thigh highs, silk panties, and your subtle evening collar so people who know will know exactly what you are. Meet us in the dining room of the Beverly Hills hotel at 8:00pm so I can show off my submissive fucktoy.

I'd ask who "us" is, but I have a feeling I already know. Fuck, fuck, fuck...why can't I just fall asleep after sex like normal people and not stay up hatching plots to bite me in the ass?

But I started this. I have to go. I'll just decline any encounter with her and we'll find someone else. Sir will let me do that, won't he? I know it's not up to me, but I'm sure he would never put me through something like that. Punishment with his belt is one thing, but putting me in the hands of that, that...thing, well, that's far too cruel and unusual for him. We'll find someone more suitable in the future, I'm sure of it.

And the evening won't be a total loss; they make a fabulous French martini there.