Shaing

He had me write him a story, about what I wanted to happen in our next time together. I had to think about it for a while. My real time experience was so limited, and I almost didn't know what to write. I thought about pieces of all my stories, little memories of things I had experienced, and was ready to write it down for him.

He liked the story, and said we would enact it Wednesday night. I couldn't wait. He told me to have everything laid out like in the story, and to be kneeling in my leopard print nightgown, waiting for him.

That morning I reread the story, and it made me shiver all over. It was if it were written by someone else. My writing feels that way sometimes. Sometimes I reread things and think, wow, I wrote that? It's hard to believe those words came from me. It was exciting and arousing to read the words. I imagined him touching me later, just like in the story.

The day was long and busy. I came home at lunch and read the story again, anticipating our time together. Finally it was time to come home, and I rushed around, getting cleaned up, then I sat down and read the story again. I wanted everything to be set up correctly. I put the ping pong paddle and the wrist cuffs on the little table next to the recliner. I moved the other table next to the computer out of the way, to give him more room to play with me. I put the vibrator, lube, clothes pins, and leather slapper next to the bed on the dresser. I removed some of the pillows on the bed, so I could lay flatter when he bound me there. I put a glass of ice cubes by the bed. Finally everything was ready, including me.

I sat on the couch, put some music on the stereo, and waited. I took deep breaths, calming myself, my body so ready for this, for him.

I heard the screen door open, and then his two knocks, just like he said he would. I quickly knelt on the cushion. I could feel my body trembling in excitement. He came in, carrying a bag of I imagined toys. He greeted Lucy, then came over to me. He didn't speak, he just walked around me, looking at me. I wanted him so much to be pleased by what he saw.

He moved behind me, and began kissing my shoulders and neck, his fingers playing with my hair, his body pressed against me. I loved how he felt; big, solid, warm behind me, his hands so gentle as he touched me. I loved this ritual of his, the kissing and licking of my neck. I could feel shivers racing over my skin, my body jerking slightly as he licked the sensitive spots. I could feel my body relaxing for him.

He continued this for a while, letting me relax, softening me up, letting the anticipation build slowly. His hands traveled over me.

I sat here, struggling to remember what happened next. I know he put his hand on the back of my neck, pushing my head down as I had written in the story. His hand was on my bottom, caressing me. I know at one point he sat in the recliner, and I knelt between his thighs, and he kissed me ravenously. I felt myself melting into the deep wet kisses. Then I knew he was kneeling beside me, his hand pressing my head down, holding my hair in his fist. His other hand was on my bottom, and he tugged the panties up into me, just like I wrote about. God, it felt so good. The panties were satin and lace, zebra print, black and white, my favorite. I had put on a CD I really liked, and the really slow sexy blusey song came on.I could feel my hips moving to the music unconsciously. It was a slow, erotic song. He spanked me, lightly, letting me adjust to the pain. His hands were magic on my skin.

Moving the panties aside, he plunged his finger into me. I could feel how wet I was. He reached under me to fondle my breasts briefly, but they were not the focus of his attention. I had my head down on my arms, my bottom raised high up, my nightgown lifted to my waist. He kept spanking me, alternating spanking and fondling my pussy.

He clutched my hair at one point, and lifted me up for a long deep kiss. He whispered in my ear, "Do you like that, my little slut?" Jesus, those words went right through me. They sounded like I had always imagined they would when said to me. I could only hiss, "Yessss."

It all blurs together, him kneeling next to me, and him sitting in the recliner, me in the same position, my head down, ass up, pussy open. He slid the panties down over my hips and down my thighs. It felt wonderful having them just clinging to my thighs, knowing my bottom was bare now.

He kept spanking me, I know that. My bottom was heating up, getting warm and pink. He spanked that tender spot, right at the curve of hip and thigh. My body was jerking and I was moaning and groaning. It felt soo damn good. I never understand why I like to be spanked, I just revel in it.

He had me raise up, and he went to sit on the couch. He asked me if I had a toy I wanted to share with him. I crawled over to the little table, and grabbed the ping pong paddle and wrist cuffs. I knelt between his thighs, and kissed the paddle, then offered it to him. It felt so right doing that. I handed him the wrist cuffs, and he set them aside. He lightly spanked my nipples and breasts with the paddle, then told me to lay over his lap. I had to remove the panties from one leg, then I draped myself over his lap, my upper body on the couch, my one leg straight, the other bent and kneeling on the cushion. I wish I could explain how good it felt to be laying there like that.

He took one of the wrist cuffs and put it on my left wrist. I gripped my hands together, but he did not attach the second cuff. I settled myself on his lap, and waited. His hands stroked over my body, moving the nightgown up higher around my waist.

He began tapping me lightly all over with the paddle. The rough textured rubber of the paddle scraped lightly over my skin as he steadily increased the tempo of the swats. I was writhing on his lap, groaning and squealing, making little noises of pleasure, my face buried in the couch. I could feel my skin heating up, getting warmer then hotter. He would swat for a while, steadily, then a final hard smack, then stop. My body would quiver and shake, I would gasp for breath, and feel my body shimmering and shaking. It was glorious. The kind of spanking I had always dreamed of, and come close to, but never this good.

Again and again, he swatted, then rubbed my pussy with his fingers. He asked me if I was enjoying this, my little slut. I could only groan a harsh yessssssss. He spanked harder still, then put his fingers on me again. He teased me about how hard my clit was, how much it swelled when he did this to me. Then laughing, he teased about my clit hiding from him, telling it to come back out. My hips were twisting and jerking, trying to get more friction. Jesus, i was on fire. He then returned to the spanking. A series of rapid fire strokes, then a final heavy smack. Again, the shimmering shaking feeling as I tried to get my breath back. I can't find the words to describe that feeling. Your body trying to recover from the pain, the pleasure so intense you can't breathe, the combination of the two so exquisite it made me want to cry. He ran that paddle all along the inside of my cheeks, my pussy, my thighs, everywhere he could reach. He never hesitated, they were sure, solid swats. He never asked is I was alright, he didn't have to. He knew from my moans and groans that I was enjoying every swat. He told me that once, that he enjoyed that about me; how I truly enjoyed all the BDSM stuff, that he didn't have to be careful with me. I loved it.

My cheeks felt like they were on fire now, and I was squirming more. I found myself taking deep breaths, letting the pain flow through me, almost like a trance. For a few moments I couldn't feel the pain, just the pleasure.

His hands massaged my cheeks, and he told me to get up. I did, clumsily, my body shaking, my eyes half closed, my cheeks flushed. He put me between his thick muscular thighs, and I encircled my arms around his neck. I melted against him, and he kissed me slowly. My body felt like a part of his somehow, that deep connection that got stronger every time he touched me.

I felt weak and dazed still, and he had me stand up. He kissed me some more, his hands roaming over my body. I remember something he said, right before beginning the spanking. You like the feeling of being a possession, to be owned, don't you? I could only hiss a yessssssss, already feeling owned by him. I don't think he understood that was the reason why I stopped seeing the other Dom. It was a form of commitment on my part, not wanting another Dom to touch me now.

As I stood there, he stripped me, and had me step out of the nightgown and panties. It was a bold statement of our roles, my position, my submission; him clothed, me naked. My legs were unsteady and shaking. He put the other wrist cuff on then. His hands gently guided me and supported me. The memories are fuzzy here, not knowing exactly how long I stood there, feeling his hands on me. He explored my body with those wonderful hands, then told me to follow him.

As we stood by the bed, he kissed me some more, and slipped the blindfold on me, then told me to lay on the bed, my head towards the headboard. I had already prepared the ropes, and they were laid out on the bed, solidly tied to the bed frame. I stretched out on the bed, crying out when my tender bruised bottom hit the bed. Gasping, I scooted over to the middle of the bed, gently settling my hips down on the bed.

I put my arms out, and he hooked me to the ropes. I loved the feeling, the first time bound by him. I felt safe, and secure, and ready. He arranged my feet, just like in the story I had written. Wide apart, my thighs open, my pussy wet and exposed. He went into the dining room, and I heard the bad he had brought in with him rustling softly. He returned to the foot of the bed, and wrapped soft rope around my left ankle. He ran the rope up over my inner thigh, then back around to my ankle, securing my leg. He moved to the other leg and did the same. I heard the bag rustling again, and I felt a shiver of anxiety rushing through me. I was helpless, vulnerable, naked, open, and yet I felt safe. I only felt a great sense of anticipation from deep in my body and heart, waiting for his touch. He then ran an ice cube over my body, circling my nipples a bit. I think that's what happened next, some memories are fuzzy.

He moved between my thighs, and I felt his hand putting the vibrator on me. I almost jumped out of my skin. It felt like my vibrator, but being blind I could not tell. It just felt so good. He teased me with it, running it over my pussy and lips and clit, then back in me. I heard another bag rustling, and then the pinch of something on my pussy lips, then on my inner thighs. It was a sharp, intense pain, but bearable. I remember gasping as each was clipped on me. I had no idea what they were.

He began to run the leather slapper over my body. I recognized the feel of it on my skin. Lightly, all up and down my body, then concentrating on my nipples and breasts. The swats were hard and fast, and the pain was strong. I found myself lunging up off the bed, not sure if I was thrusting my breasts at him or trying to get away from the slapper. My body was at fever pitch. He moved the vibrator in me again, in circles,rubbing on my clit, then the clips on my skin, making them vibrate as well. What a feeling. My hands were gripping the ropes tightly, and I was tugging. I loved that feeling for some reason. That delicious trapped feeling, knowing I was at his mercy. A lifetime of kidnap fantasies were being lived out in the flesh, finally.

I remember now, before he did anything, when I was tied, he whispered to me something about raping me, now that I was all bound like a good slut. I can't tell you what those words did to my insides. A quivering gasping feeling, the words I had longed to hear for so very long. He was tapping into my deepest, darkest fantasies with his words and thoughts. He did another round with the slapper, and removed the clips one at a time. A sharp pinch came with each one, making me cry out. That shimmering shuddering feeling swept over me again, the pain intense and erotic.

He then removed the vibrator, and I felt his hot, wet mouth on me. Oh god, oh God, was all I could think. He leisurely licked and stroked me with his lips and tongue, driving me crazy. I could feel the orgasm building rapidly, my legs beginning to strain wider apart, my hands pulling on the ropes. I wondered what I looked like briefly, then realized I didn't care. It felt too good to worry about it.

He kept licking and sucking me, and it came over me; a strong, jerking orgasm, my hips bucking as he stayed with me, making it last for so long. He stopped briefly, then as I started to calm down a bit, he went at me again. I knew the second orgasm was right there, oh fuck, so close, and he teased me with light tender licks, driving me crazy. My legs were shaking again, spread so wide, reaching for that orgasm with everything in me. It hit, but it was weak and half there, and I felt like screaming.

He kissed up my thigh, asking me if we missed. I said it was half there, but not all the way. He returned to my cunt, his mouth licking, his tongue lapping, oh fuck, I wanted to CUM. I strained hard, shaking, groaning, begging, please, oh god please. I wanted, needed just a bit more. I finally gave in and begged, harder, please God, please...... He attacked my pussy then, his moustache and goatee scraping deliciously, and I exploded again, harder, deeper this time. It felt so damn good. I collapsed on the bed, and he removed the ropes and cuffs. I removed the hot blindfold, my eyes closing against the light.

He lay down on the bed beside me. I snuggled as close as I could get, my thigh thrown over his, my arm around his waist. I clung to him as my anchor. My body was shaking still, shivering, jerking as he stroked me lightly. I sighed again and again as I tried to come down. His hand was so gentle on me, telling me this was the most important part.

I didn't understand what was happening to my body. I felt like I was plugged into some electrical source, shivering and shaking. He stilled his hands, and I still shook, my hips thrusting in little jerks towards him. I couldn't calm down. I told him I couldn't come down, that I felt like he had turned on my switch, and I couldn't turn it off. He chuckled, said if I wanted more, he could surely accommodate me. I laughed, saying I felt like a dog, wanting to hump his leg. He said anything that works, that makes it feel better. I talked to him then, telling him about the night he came over late, and woke me, taking me, making me kneel at the edge of the bed, taking me from behind. I could feel my pussy clenching as I thought of that night. I shivered all over, my hips thrusting slightly, a lazy sexy motion.

I wanted, needed more. I ran my hand over his chest, then down his side, fondling him through his pants. He was hard, and I wanted him inside me more than I had ever wanted anything. I told him I would go to the bathroom, and he said he would take off his clothes. I winced as I sat down on the toilet, my bottom tender and aching. It felt wonderful.

I returned to the bed, and he was laying on his back, naked and hard. I crawled up the bed to him, kissing him passionately, feeling my need for him flowing through me, hot and sweet. I kissed my way down his chest, sucking on a nipple for a moment, then lowering my mouth to his cock. I took all of it, feeling the head touching the back of my throat. I sucked hard on the way back up, the taste of him like ambrosia, making me whimper slightly. I licked and sucked him, feeling him harden more, my mouth wet and hot and hungry around him. His low groans were music to my ears. I nuzzled his balls briefly. I loved the way he smelled.

But I wanted him inside me, and I lay down next to him. My arms were shaking, and had barely supported me while I went down on him. He moved to get between my open thighs, and said if it hurt too much just tell him and we would change position. He fingered my pussy, and I knew I would need lube on me. He grabbed the bottle from the table by the bed, and lubed his beautiful cock, then drizzled some on my pussy. It was cool and felt wonderful. Then he sank into me slowly, and it was perfect. My hips arched up, my hands went to my knees to hold my legs apart. My thighs were screaming, the muscles shaking.

He started to fuck me slowly. I watched his face, and I loved the expression he had. Concentrating, feeling me wrapped around him like a hot, wet, velvet fist. Suddenly, he moved the vibrator between us, rubbing it along my clit. I groaned. My hands were rubbing and clutching at his thighs. I moaned and told him how much I loved his thighs, so strong and thick and muscular. I knew the orgasm was right there, hovering, waiting. He moved his hand, leaving the vibe there, buzzing away. He was so very inventive, doing things to me that no one else ever had, touching places inside me that no one ever got close to.

He removed the vibrator, and I put my hand on my pussy. It was slick, hot, and aching. I rubbed my clit, and he started to fuck me harder, faster. I knew he was about to cum, and I rubbed my clit, trying not to gouge him with my long nails. He came suddenly, a harsh groan that sounded wonderful, and I felt his cum soaking me. He slid out, and I ran my fingers over my sopping pussy, and stroked my clit hard and fast. I came quickly, and so damn hard. My body bucked half off the bed, my thighs pressing hard against his, lifting my hips up as I convulsed over and over. I stroked slowly, milking every aftershock from my body, then collapsed on the bed.

He lay next to me, panting, laughing, saying I was a sexual tyranosaurus rex, no mere mortal could keep up. I laughed, curling up next to him. Now the switch is off, I said. I felt limp and bruised and battered and beautiful. I pressed soft kisses to his damp chest. I could smell his cum and mine. I chuckled and said cum makes a great lube. Something about rubbing his cum into my pussy when I came felt so good. He held me, caressing me, and we talked for a while. I could feel my eyelids drooping, my body sated and lazy. I was simply, his.

Shaking by Cathy O'Niel copyright 2005