Succulent Stories - Abigail

Abigail

Part 1 "Clit Rush"

Abigail sat tense with her phone in her hand. Hunching over the screen she was dead set on tracking her notifications. She couldn't get out of her head the wild night she spent with him. Images of their brief encounter sauntered into her brain as if it was a mere mirage of the mind.

Their eyes locked at the precipice of their dark romance. She got lost in his deep gaze forgetting she could breathe as she drowned in his presence. His warm hand caressed her cheek to gently sweep a piece of her hair behind her ear. She stood there stunned at the magnetic energy sparking between them. Lightning caught in her chest as her arousal became charged.

Wordlessly she moved closer to him. Her small frame became dwarfed against his larger built body but she felt safe. Safe enough to dare a glance at his soft perfect lips. She wanted to feel them so bad it was burning on her mouth, her skin, everywhere she wanted to feel him. A heat stirring in her core of what her true longing manifested.

Abigail darted her eyes away, too shy to make contact with him. He softly touched her chin to get her attention before leaning down to kiss her. In that instance Abigail knew this was different -- he was different. Her whole body sang with a choir of fire. She grasped onto him, anchoring her body to not get lost in the river of passion sweeping her away.

He responded by pulling her closer, entangling their need together. Losing his self control in the process of falling into the heat of desire. His lips enveloped hers in a feverish warmth, working to pull her arousal up from her core and out her lips. Abigail gasped as he bit her lip softly, encouraging more rough play. She sank her nails lightly into his arms as her reply, her panties soaked with her need.

They were in a secluded room after a night of stolen glances across a stranger's house. She had never been to a kink party before and was eager to learn the ways of the BDSM world. A few hours prior, Abigail sat comfortably on a pink leather sofa as she watched couples break off into rooms with various pleasuring toys. Toys she had not witnessed in her young adult life.

Her nerves got the best of her as she sat wordlessly ogling the underground world she thought was saved for the movies. Moans and groans of pleasure erupted from the adjacent room sending shivers and jolts through her system of excitement and fear. Her eyes swept the room to find a man had been watching her sit timidly on the couch and his eyes alone beckoned her forth.

His sheer presence told her he was a Dominant, his stance strong through his magnificent hips, as he cradled a drink in his enormous hand idly. A budding curiosity bloomed in Abigail's body as she felt a tug towards this dangerously handsome man. She got up from her post and started walking towards him -- finding out if curiosity would liberate or kill her pussy cat.

Her nerves rattled within her as she stood in front of the man, his deep brown eyes devouring her every movement. His fingers gripped the perspired glass a little tighter as she stared up at him with round doe eyes. Abigail was too stunned to speak but felt adrenaline rush through her as she took the first step towards her dark calling.

"You are beautiful."

He told her, it wasn't a question, a hard statement laced with deep promises.

"With your consent, I would like to go to a room with you."

She nodded, her lips sealing the pulse of her thudding her heart.

He grabbed her hand confidently and led her to a room with a bright pink door. Inside there was a neon pink sign reading 'Pussy Whipped' with a fuzzy shag carpet laid beneath it. Pink chairs surrounded the small sitting area encircling a space to be spanked with a whip resting on a small table beside it. A bed was tucked away in a corner, the sheets a pale pink, with a swirling golden wrought iron frame.

Abigail took in the details of the girly room, the light and bright colors catching her off guard.

"Isn't BDSM supposed to be dark and dank?" she blurted out, her nerves getting the best of her.

The man smiled and shut the door with a click, she bemused him.

"That is a misconception peddled by Hollywood," His response was husky, his voice coming out low and inviting.

"Oh," Abigail blushed, embarrassed by her naivety.

The man strode to her, taking off his tailored jacket and setting it on a pink fuzzy chair.

"Is this your first time?"

"Yeah," she gulped as he walked closer to her, unbuttoning his long sleeve crisp dress shirt and rolling up his sleeves. His muscled tan forearm gleamed at her in the dimly lit room.

"Then we will go.. slowly.." He trailed off his words as his eyes raked down her body leisurely. They were the eyes of a predatory animal waiting to catch its prey.

Fear made her heart pound louder as her body began to tingle, she liked the way he looked at her.

"What is your name?" he asked her, his eyes resting on hers as he towered above her.

"Abigail," was all she could whisper as his looming frame engulfed her.

Their gaze held together their pooling bodies, his hand caressing her cheek and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, sending them into a frenzy of impassioned kisses with teeth and tongue.

"Abigail," he pulled away to whisper her name on her lips, shivers cascading down her spine as each syllable of her name was spoken like a spell.

She was under his enchantment, heart, body, and pussy -- all his.

They were breathing hard as he gripped her jaw with one large hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Turn around and face the bed."

She obeyed and swiveled to face the innocent pink sheets before her.

His hands encircled her hips, pulling her taught to his strong body, feeling a pressure behind her of his arousal in his slacks.

She bit her lip, trying to not moan from the naughty thought of his length plunging inside of her.

Wetness saturated her as her body shook from anticipation.

He released her hips and grabbed her wrists, and pinned them behind her back, his hold firm but gentle.

"Abigail, would you like to be spanked?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Yes?" He swiftly clutched both of her hands with one of his large hands and used the other to brush her long blonde locks off of her shoulder, exposing her neck.

He planted sweet kisses along her neck as he gripped her in place.

"You may call me Master," He told her, signaling she was missing a key element to her answer.

"Yes, Master."

He growled his approval.

"Good Girl."

Abigail shuddered at his praise, wetness beginning to seep onto her inner thighs outside of her thin lace panties.

He bent her forward, her breast resting on the bed as her ass hovered in the air, the perfect peach to bruise.

The Dom let go of her wrists to pull down her acid-wash jean miniskirt, taking his time to get it over her curvaceous hips, rubbing her skin in circles. His hands were warm and rough as he worshiped her body with explorative fingers.

They crept their way up her inner thigh, so close to her warmth, brushing against the sacred waters flowing from her core.

The Dominant grunted when he found her slickness, cupping his hand to her pussy, making her moan into the bed.

"You have been a naughty girl," he swiftly took off her panties without hesitation, grasping the dampened cloth and smelling her scent before putting them in the pocket of his pants.

He stood behind her, his hand pressing gently on her butt cheek.

"Do you know what I do to naughty girls?" His deep voice caressed her skin, her clit throbbed with pleasure, feeling as if she was having a clit rush.

"No, Master," she remembered to address him correctly this time, her pussy aching to find out the punishment.

He spanked her as his answer.

His hand came down fully on her ass cheek, reverberating with a loud smack, red inflammation sprouting from the force.

Abigail groaned into the bed, body tingling with excitement and heat.

"You liked that, didn't you," He spanked her again, this time her other cheek getting the brunt of his pleasuring force.

He spanked her again and again, each time using different pressure and force, the thrumming of power felt through his fingertips.

She moaned in response to the repeated spanks, her knees beginning to buckle from her legs shaking from arousal.

He leaned down and kissed her aching ass cheeks, his soft lips soothing the hot skin.

His fingers began to slide up her inner thighs again, barely outside her inner moist lips.

"Would you like me to go deeper, naughty girl?" His voice was a whisper as his fingers teased her slowly, staying along her groin and not entering her forbidden clit fruit.

He was so close. She was trembling now from the body consuming arousal that was choking her words.

She wanted him.

So.

Damn.

Bad.

A need she had never experienced in her life.

"Yes, Master--"

A knock came from the door interrupting their play.

The Dominant cursed and got up from her to open the door and bite off the head of whomever was interrupting them.

After a few muffled talks later he closed the door behind him.

Abigail laid still on the bed in the same position he left her, her body frozen, unsure of what she was supposed to do.

"Our play session is over," He told her, picking up her skirt from the floor.

Abigail let her shaking knees rest on the ground for a few seconds before she slowly stood up from her position.

She turned towards him and saw that her skirt was in his hands. He steadied her with one strong arm as he helped dress her.

Her sodden panties remained in his pocket.

He gathered his jacket and pulled out a business card to hand to her.

"If you want to do a longer session, text me."

The deep navy card had a number printed on it in silver lettering with no other text.

He began to turn away when she asked, "What is your name?"

He looked at her, his eyes lit with a fleck of something she couldn't quite read.

"Malcolm. But for you, I am only 'Master'."

She nodded understanding the formality of their meeting and clasped her hands in front of her as she felt suddenly chilled.

His eyes no longer held the dominant warmth they had earlier. His departure was swift as Abigail stood reeling from the sudden turn of events.

A week went by, Abigail needed to digest the feelings she experienced while at the party of exhibition. So many new emotions bubbled up inside her as she replayed the encounter with Malcolm over and over through her head.

She held onto the smooth navy business card, brushing the sharp edge against her fingers, each time she would remember his dominant hands on her. The warmth, power and gentleness that he beheld as he dominated her. Her pussy would get a slight tingle of the faint kisses that captivated her wholly.

On the eighth day after their meeting, she mustered up enough courage to text the silver number on the card.

'Master. I would like another session.'

She reread her text over and over after sending it to the mysterious number, anxiety taking hold of her every movement.

The embers of that heated night hung in the air as she waited for a sign, any sign, of his return to her.