📚 safe-sane-and-consensual Part 1 of 1
Part 1
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ADULT BDSM

Safe Sane And Consensual 1

Safe Sane And Consensual 1

by r4v3nr0s3
20 min read
4.89 (3300 views)
adultfiction
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She checked her watch as she removed it, her skin was already hypersensitive, blood rushing to the surface, and giving her goosebumps. Even the simple sense of anticipation incited a chemical reaction throughout her nervous system that almost drove her to madness. Each week, every week, at the exact same time she had a very specific appointment to be kept. Her day to day life was mundane, not boring or burdensome, but it definitely wasn't exciting, each day was just a reprint of the last.

With the exception of Sundays.

Each and every Sunday, a specific visitor would come to call. She met him through a random sort of arrangement. She wasn't even sure she understood how it came about, other than magic or happenstance. In the end, it didn't matter. She had met him, something ignited between them, and they found connection in a new, raw way they never had before.

Words and banter as seduction is a game so few play well. But the two of them talked and talked and eventually became vulnerable enough to brush across their peculiar needs. They formed an arrangement and within their first few times meeting, they realized just what sort of bond they had and instantly cherished it.

Sundays, a day of worship, a day of prayer and peace to most of the populace, she spent her time a bit differently. Most people spent their Sundays on their knees praying. Maybe they'd lay on their backs before bed and mutter a few recited prayers to appease the powers that be. Once a week, they'd enter stone chapels and sing their praises to the Lord above.

She felt like her Sundays indulged a different sort of worship. On her knees maybe, perhaps on her back. Probably a few more positions, if she were honest with herself. She definitely sang some praises when she could manage intelligible words. Oh yes, she spent her Sunday under god, as the good book intended. Albeit, her interpretation of god might be a bit divergent from mainstream beliefs.

The knock on her door had her jumping to her feet. Her hands alleviated their shaking by flattening her mini skirt as she walked to the door, taking a deep breath to ease the excitement. She tried for a relaxed smile on her face and brushed her hair back.

She opened the door wide and saw him. The smile that broke on her face was enough like the sun cresting at dawn to make one's heart skip. Sense returned, and she realized how eager she must look, and a shy smile dropped into place. She could tell he enjoyed that though, both her authenticity and seeing her looking meek. She couldn't complain. She enjoyed the spark in his eyes when he would look at her -- starving, predatory. She wanted nothing more than for him to sink his teeth and claws into her, to be consumed by him in the primal way his eyes took her in.

He returned her smile with a very sinister grin of his own and stepped over the threshold of her home, nodding to her as he passed. She closed the door with the whisper of a click and hesitated, just watching the way he moved through space like he commanded it.

Moving towards the center of the room, he knew she would trail him eventually. They were drawn together with a near planetary magnetism. Once she showed him she was ready, he could take the time and space to inspect her in depth, just as he preferred. Once he started taking in all the little ways she gasped and flinched and sighed, all her little reactions, all because of him? Wild horses couldn't drag him away.

When he sensed her come to a stop behind him, a couple feet away, he turned on his heel, and she gave a tiny jump of surprise. He circled her with a nebulous gaze, taking in every available centimeter of her skin, smirking at her in a hungry, approving way. She was an excellent vision of all the things he wanted and several things he wanted to despise, especially in himself. This little angel was a funhouse mirror's reflection of all his most jagged edges. The two couldn't seem more divergent. She was soft and small compared to the refined and mountainous barriers he'd erected, but she obliterated them with a flutter of lashes. Where his skin was thick and tough from years of rough living stumbling through hell, she was so fucking soft. There was a kindness in her touch, a gentleness with how she moved through the world despite the fact that he knew very well the ugliness she faced. She had a grace that he lacked and he deeply envied. It was a mixture of pride and possession as he looked at her. She was like watching the stars sparkle to life at twilight and wanting to jam the birth of a galaxy in a bottle. She was something that deserved to be kept.

The tip of his pink tongue poked out to brush over the center of his lower lip. The explosive hunger that came over her forced her to adjust her meek stance. Her clit pulsed within the laughable confines of her underwear, and she shuffled, rubbing her thighs together, and shifting like a kitten ready to pounce. His eyes snapped to her hips with the movement. She noticed this about him quickly. How he seemed to not just merely look, listen, or touch, he sensed with intent. He consumed the world around him like a child once left to starve. There was no drive more sinister in its origins, and nothing more she wanted to do than satiate the black hole it created... One she saw reflected in herself.

The corner of his lips curled, reveling in her aroused discomfort. The sound of his soft laughter was like a lightning strike to her limbic system. It hit in her ears first, but she felt its reverberation down to her fingertips and into the soles on her bare feet. The mere sound of his breathing in heated audio exchanges had a great effect on her, so his voice went nuclear on impact. It could be velvet, smooth, smothering, intoxicating, or it could crack like a whip, shocking her senses into over drive and sending her to her knees.

He stopped in front of her, his features back to stone as he catalogued every movement, every breath. "You look beautiful." He hummed and leaned in, "Delicious." He put his lips to her ear and growled low and soft, "Breedable." She shuddered and he just smiled as he stepped back to take her in again. His hand lifted like a puppeteer holding a control. She felt the invisible strings attached to those fingers tug in her belly. His finger brushed the warmth of her skin and skimmed down the center of her chest, down the valley between her breasts.

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Another breath took her by surprise as his finger trailed along her collar-bone. He took another turn around her, following the lines of the dress where it met her skin with the barest brush of his fingertip. It had a deep cut v-neck bust that stopped mid-sternum and a tight miniskirt that clung to her wide hips and fell only four inches down her thigh. The straps were thin along her shoulders and led to a very low-cut back that dipped at the curve of her lumbar spine. It didn't leave much to the imagination and the soft and stretchy material hugged all available curves. It didn't matter, the idea of clothes was a pretense. He enjoyed working for his prize. She was just thrilled to be the enrichment.

"Is it comfortable?" He asked, stepping behind her.

"Yes," she replied, eyes closing, and, trembled in place as his finger traced along the back of the dress. The path of his heated touch halted at her words. She opened her eyes, cursing her foolishness when she felt him step forward and grasp the back of her neck in his thick hand. The tips of his fingers dug into her flesh and pulled a hiss from her clenched teeth. He yanked her back against his chest and his hand slid to the front of her neck. His firm palm ghosted across her hyoid bone like a threat, and he held her tightly against him. Thick fingers dug into the sides of her throat, squeezed just enough to change the air and blood flow. That glorious sensation of being so firmly held, lit up her response system, sped up her heart beat, and made her instantly wet for him.

"Excuse me?" His voice was laced with displeasure, and there was a threat in his the way his thumb caressed her jaw. She had disappointed him.

"Yes, it's very comfortable," she muttered innocently. He squeezed her neck sharply in response. She gasped as a delicious heat pooled beneath his fingertips.

"You're forgetting your manners, darlin'," he growled, holding her firm against his body.

He was just the right amount of tall so that when he slowly inclined his hand with the grip around her neck, she was forced onto her toes. This other hand of his refused to be left out of the fun, and slowly crept across her stomach, inching its way upward. His palm came to rest upon the smooth fabric over her breast, tickling against the nipple beneath. She huffed out a shaky breath, only to have it halted by the hand around her throat.

He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against her ear as he rumbled, "When you are allowed to speak, you will use 'sir.' Did you forget that, pet?" She remained silent with is hand on her throat, but he refused to loosen his grip. "Speak now, little kitten, no need to be shy."

A haggard breath came out of her lips, and it felt like she had her own electrical current with him so close. Her skin burned beneath his touch and her senses thrummed, enlivened by his presence. She nods further into his grasp, demonstrating her trust. Her voice is strained as she speaks, "I'm sorry, sir. I haven't forgotten our agreement."

"Hmmm." He hummed against her and his hand slowly circled a hot palm over her hardening nipple. Her eyes fluttered shut, arching to press her chest harder against his hand. "Good girl." His mouth dropped to her shoulder and nipped at the curve of her neck. He took his time, letting his tongue taste her skin, "You already taste like you need me bad, baby."

She nodded, her head tilting to the side as he brushed her hair away from the exposed skin, "Yes, sir." She sighed as his lips tore through her senses in the best and worst way. "Desperately, sir."

His teeth sunk into her shoulder and she let out a mewl that sounded like she was begging for more. His laughter buzzed against her skin as his hand dipped beneath the flimsy fabric, taking her full breast into his hand. He growled in response to her nipple puckering between his fingertips. "As eager as I am to sink my fingers, tongue, and dick inside your delightful little pussy, I'm gonna have to give you a little bit of firm reinforcement." He snarled playfully at the whine that came from the back of her throat. He nipped at her shoulder again, but his hands dropped away from her as he stepped back. She predictably gasped, affronted by the loss of sensation, and she swayed at the loss of his presence behind her. "Now then, be a good little slut, and bring me that chair. The one without arms, little one."

She walked to the table in a daze, lucky it was not far from where he was standing and there were no obstacles in the way. She was lucky to remember to breathe and walk at the same time with half her brain leaking out between her legs. She gripped the back of the chair with unsteady hands and dragged it to where he was waiting, positioning it just so in front of him.

He felt almost starved with need for her, like his tongue was swimming in saliva, leaving him drooling like a cartoon wolf. The main reason he sat down was simply to force himself to take a moment before he unwittingly tore all her clothes off and sunk his tongue into the source of the juices scenting the air. He took a pack of pre-rolls out of his pocket and unwrapped the cellophane, tucking the trash into his pant's pocket. He was as observant of her as she was of him, paying careful attention to the way his fingers flipped open the cardboard and pulled a single joint from the pack, tucking it behind his ear. She had an easy patience he had to envy, she watched him with very gentle smile on her lips despite the fact that he could taste her arousal at the back of his throat.

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He admired the smooth skin of her legs, curving up into thick thighs, and a lush ass he loved to clench, slap, bite, and spread. He smiled slightly at the memory of gripping each globe of her buttox in his hands as he pounded into her. Bent over the back of that same chair last week, he spread her wide and pumped into her tight little ass, the only attention her sopping wet pussy got was the occasional spank and three fingers pumping her hard. Her feet, covered in the only clothing he allowed, white frilly socks, kicked in the air, and she screamed around a pair of her soaked underwear he stuffed in her mouth.

His eyes captured the width of her hips and followed her plump stomach up to a large bust. She was soft enough that every inch of flesh he could sink his fingers in to were like little spots that were 'specially made, just for him. While positioning her, moving her and moulding her into a new passion play with every breath, there was not a single inch of her he wouldn't claim with his fingertips. He wanted to work her like he could steal the moans from her heaving chest with only his two hands. His pants felt significantly tighter and then he finally met her eyes with a lick of his lips.

Her eyes, wide and full of a lustful wonder, stared unblinkingly, hypnotized by his mouth. He could pretend it was because she was careful and observant, similar to the very prey he intended to make her feel like. But it was because he knew much better that he saw the predator behind her wide-open, doe-eyed gaze. She could whine and whimper like the best of them, her skin bruised so beautifully, her chest would heave with labored breaths, and she might flee, or try at the very least, but she was the farthest thing from simple or weak. Once he got his hands on her, or anything of his in her, she'd roll her hips to fuck herself, claw down his back leaving scratch marks he'd have tattooed on him, or scream his name until she was hoarse. His little princess was dying to feel something stretch against the inside of her core. She would not relent until he knew the exact cut of her teeth, until he tore the screams from her plump lips with his very tongue. It would be paltry to call whatever it was he felt at the noises he could elicit from her "pride." Whatever he felt would make Lucifer blanche.

"Come on over here, pet." He smiled and she approached his bared teeth much like a cornered animal might, but came to standing right at his knees. He opened his legs, allowing space for her and then motioned to his right leg, "Straddle my thigh darlin', but don't you dare sit yet."

She followed his instructions, the endearing statement left a sense of lingering menace, but it only made it that much more enticing to hear him say it. Biting her lower lip, she stood, almost completely flush against him. Her breasts were at the perfect level for him, he needed to but simply lean forward to take them between his lips. With mountainous restraint, he kept his eyes focused on hers as she stood there, quaking with need. "Place your hand on my left shoulder. To steady yourself..."

"Yes, sir." She placed a hand on his shoulder. Her smile faded into a shiver as his right hand ghosted against the outside of her knee. He kept his eyes on hers and she didn't shy away from her arousal, not with him. She shivered beneath his touch, biting her lower lip as she gazed at him, eliciting a smile from his usually hardened exterior. His hand continued up her leg at a languorous pace. Sitting forward slightly, his hand curved around the back of her thigh, snaking up to cup her backside in his large hand. She let out another ragged breath when his fingers grazed the thin material of her underwear.

He hummed another appreciative sound as his fingers splayed across the stitching of lace beneath his fingertips, but then he paused his rumble, halting immediately, his stare narrowing in discernment. With less finesse, his hand moved back, curving up to her hip and gripping her at the bones to spin her around. He pressed firmly at her back to force her to bend over, and lifted the material of her dress to expose her backside. Though he aimed at being stern, he couldn't stop his tongue from peaking out to lick his lips, eyes boring into the white lace that allowed small windows of her lovely skin to peak through. "Interesting..." He narrowed his eyes at the surprise and looked around her plush ass at her as she glanced upside down over her shoulder. His gaze went positively molten. "I didn't buy you these. You trying to sneak these by me sweetheart?"

Her eyes widened and she dropped her stare immediately to the floor. "Yes sir, I mean, no -- I mean, I didn't sneak anything, sir." She sounded meek, maybe even contrite, but he'd seen the flash of fire in those eyes of hers before she looked away. The little brat.

He cleared his throat of the momentary amusement, intent on giving her a decent little scare to go along with the wet spot forming in her underwear. "Though you have excellent taste, I only want you to wear what I buy for you, and nothing else. Everything that graces this body of yours needs to be approved by me. I only get the best for my lovely little pet. Not everything deserves to touch this skin of yours like I do. Do you understand?"

Her breathing stuttered as he tugged her to standing and turned her back around. "Yes, sir." He nodded, giving her a small smile and pulled her tight skirt back over her hip. His fingers trailed slowly down the side seam on her underwear, following it across her leg and between her thighs as he listened to her breath hitch. Heat encompassed his hand as he cupped her mons, feeling the warmth from her core seeping into his palm. With a purring sort of exhale, he adjusted his hand, allowing a single finger to push through the lace, and into her entrance. She gasped and the hand on his shoulder gripped the material of his jacket. He shot her a darkly pleased look, watching her features bend from pleasure all because of him.

"Are you that ready for me, kitten?" The smile on his lips reminded her of the cat that caught the canary. "Good..." Her thighs quaked around the soft flex of his finger inside of her. "Very good," he growled, approving of the way she clenched around him. "But we have a little matter to resolve..." He curled his finger inside of her, "Don't we?"

She hissed out a breath and fought the desperate urge to clamp her thighs shut around his hand, not allowing him to leave her wetness. The sensation was too good, too grounding, he could make her cum in an instant if he wanted to.

"Don't we?" He growled harshly. Crooking his finger more drastically inside of her, he tugged her toward him by the pressure behind her pubic bone, forcing more sensation into that precarious little spot. She teetered forward, on the edge in so many ways. He placed his lips delicately on her sternum, looking up at her as she licked her lips.

"Yes, sir." She nodded. The dazed lust in her hooded eyes darkened their normal hue like the night consuming the sea.

He gave her a very small smile as he pulled his finger from inside of her. She groaned in distaste, her knees giving way only slightly until she found her strength though the haze of need. Seemingly disinterested, he took the finger soaked by her wetness and rolled it into his cupped palm. The joint from behind his ear was next, and he dabbed the filtered end against the wet spot in his hand, soaking it with her taste. After placing it between his teeth, his tongue flicked across the filter, sampling her. She jolted in the same instant, causing a tiny flash of fire to illuminate her gaze.

He smiled at that from around the joint, flicking the tip in a suggestive way with his tongue as he pulled out a zippo. "Give me a light, baby doll." It takes her a few tries with her shaking hands, but she gets him what he wants. Leaning back into his chair, he took a deep inhale and on the exhale, he chuckled, amused by the way she squirmed for him, incapable of being still and patient now that she knew she could unmask with him. "Very good, little pet. Now then, I think I'd like you on my lap."

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