Such a Good Girl

"I hope you know I how much I want you." I feel your warm breath on my neck and I shiver a bit in anticipation, still a little nervous.

Turning in your arms, I smile up at you. "I want you, too. And about tonight, and whatever you have planned..." I pause for a moment, take a deep breath, and then continue, "you know my limits, and I trust you to stop if I ask."

Cupping my chin in your hand, you look at me, a smile spreading across your face, before leaning down to brush your lips against mine. Taking my keys from me, you unlock and open the door before dropping the keys back into my hand. Your fingers drift up to stroke my cheek gently as you kiss me again. I feel your hand move around to the back of my head to tangle in my hair as you pull away. The grip tightening as the plains of your face harden, "then let's see how close to those limits we can go."

You study my face for a moment then lean in to kiss me deeply and punishingly. Releasing my hair from your fist, you speak again -- your voice a harsh whisper this time. "Now get inside, little one."

Once inside, I step aside to let you pass, then close the door. The moment is tense: I can feel the electricity between us in the air. I notice every detail, and savor it, fixing it in my mind. Taking a deep breath, my breasts tight against my shirt, I surrender myself to the moments to come, so anxious for you that I will do anything to please.

Turning the corner into my living room, I see you've made yourself comfortable, my eyes held by your sheer physical presence. I feel shy suddenly, as your eyes roam up and down my body. Awkwardly, I stand still under your gaze. The smile of earlier returns to your face as you finally break the silence: "Strip for me, little girl. Down to your bra and panties, and go get those shoes we bought for you yesterday."

Reaching up for the top button of my blouse, I feel a tremor go through me. You aren't moving to join me, and I realize you're expecting a show. I let go of my fear and put my passion into each movement. My shirt, then my skirt hit the floor. I kick off the shoes I wore out to dinner, and slowly sashay past you into the bedroom. As I pass you, your hand shoots out and you grab me, pulling me into your lap. With no preamble, your mouth covers mine and your hand closes over my breast roughly.

I'm unsure how much time has passed, but as your lips move away from mine I hear myself utter a moan of protest. You laugh softly and then whisper softly, "Go get the shoes, sexy girl." I can feel myself pouting and as you notice you laugh again. "Now, little one."

I escape from your lap and I realize how very wet I am. My arousal is so intense that I have to concentrate on walking in order not to stumble. Reaching for the shoebox, I look back at you over my shoulder. I feel a surge of pride when I notice the bulge in the front of your pants, and decide to make a show of putting on the new shoes. Bending over slowly, I put each one on and fasten the buckle and then stroke up along my leg, my eyes locked with yours as I do.

You cross the space between us quickly, and turn me to face you. The front of your shirt brushes against my chest as you wrap your arms gently around me. "Sweet girl, I want you to stand here with your legs spread and your hands behind your neck. Do not move from that position unless you want me to stop what I'm doing. Do you understand?"

Pressing the side of my face into your chest, breathing in your intoxicating scent, I barely feel capable of standing let alone forming words, but somehow, I hear my voice responding, "Yes, Sir. I understand."

Your finger hooks under my chin and lifts my face up, and you press a chaste kiss to my lips before speaking, "Good girl."

I move to stand as you've instructed while you go to grab the bag you brought with you tonight. You turn back to face me with your favorite pair of floggers in one hand and a blindfold in the other. You pause and seem to be considering something, then speak, "On second thought, I want you naked except the shoes. I don't want anything getting in the way of you feeling every sting of leather against skin, not even satin and lace."

I feel my skin become flushed with excitement, or maybe embarrassment. The cause is unimportant, because I know I'll do as you asked. Arching my back and reaching behind me, I unclasp my bra and slowly slide each strap off my shoulders, catching the cups to my breasts before discarding the delicate fabric. I know you love my body and enjoy me displaying myself for you. Turning to remove my thong, I lean forwards, legs straight, giving you a perfect view of my neatly trimmed bush. It hides nothing and I know I'm wet enough that you'll see my juices glistening from across the room.

Straightening up, I feel you press against me from behind. I didn't hear your movements; I was so lost in the sensations of my own arousal. As you press against me, I know you are equally turned on. Your voice caresses my ear as your hands cup my breasts, the floggers and blindfold having been tossed onto my bed, "Can you feel what you do to me? Can you feel that?"

Your erection feels like it's digging into me, so hard, so unforgiving. "I am going to take my time with flogging you," I see you reaching for the blindfold and then bringing it down over my eyes, "but when I am done I am going to fuck you so hard, just drilling into you over and over again, that you won't be able to walk properly for days."

Still pressing into me, one of your hands drops between my thighs and I feel two fingers thrusting into me, "You really are such a dirty girl, aren't you?" I feel you remove your fingers then suddenly, I feel moisture at my lips. "Open for me, little one."

My lips part allowing your fingers into the warm cavern of my mouth and I can taste what I already knew -- I am completely aroused and you've barely begun to taunt me. My tongue swirls around your fingers, caressing them, seeking out every last drop of my juices. Pulling your fingers away, you whisper, "Now put your arms where they should be; be a good girl for me."

As you move away from me, I stifle a whimper, feeling a bit bereft. The feeling doesn't last for long as I feel the now familiar caress of your leather floggers. Gently, oh so gently, you run them up and down my body from my calves up to my shoulders and back down again. It seems to me that you are circling me, because the next thing I feel is the floggers brushing over my hips, up my stomach, over my right breast then shoulder, and finally down my back. The feeling of leather is withdrawn from my body as your hand follows a similar route in the opposite direction.

Your hand falls away, and mere seconds later the first lash truly falls. There is a deliciousness in the countless separate stings produced by one flogger, but to have two of them kissing my skin, one after the other, is almost unbearable. You start slow, building a rhythm, concentrating at first on my back. As you pick up pace, so too do you pick up intensity. My breathing is becoming ragged as I notice your target is changing. The impact of leather to skin moves lower to my ass, and it seems that you must be constantly moving because no sooner do I feel the sting on one side then I feel the sting on the other. Again and again the floggers strike my ass, again and again the pain builds. Further down, to the backs of my legs, then up again to my ass. I can hear myself moaning and wonder when that began -- I made no conscious decision to make noise, and yet the moans are coming from me.

Once more I feel you change direction, as the lash begins to fall on my left side. Just as I become accustomed to the rhythm, I feel the floggers begin to kiss my breasts and stomach. As each stroke falls, and as the next one follows, I feel myself becoming even more aroused. I did not think it was possible to ache like this, but your constant attention to my body and to my need for pain has brought me to a higher level than I knew I could achieve.

You stop, drape the floggers over my shoulder, and then you step into me. Once again you gathering my hair into your fist, and pull my head back and thrust your tongue into my mouth. I can barely breathe as I kiss you back with all the feverish intensity you are showing. I feel myself becoming dizzy, but I trust you to hold me up if I fall. That thought shakes me to my core for a moment, but then thought becomes impossible again as your hand moves down to seek my wetness. Moving your mouth over to my ear, you speak to me in harsh, aroused tones, "I'm going to guide you over and lean you against your bookshelf. Stick this gorgeous ass out as far as you can, little one. I want to flog your sweet little pussy."

I feel your hand move away from my pussy and then hear sucking noises. "Mm hmm, just as I said. Sweet." With that you turn me and push me gently forward until I feel the wood of the shelf against my thighs.

Leaning forward, gently groping in front of me, I find the top of one of the shelves and then assume the position you described. No sooner do I have myself situated than I feel the first impact of your flogger against my cunt lips. I press my hips back as far as I can without losing balance and I realize you must have both floggers in one hand. The amount of pain and the number of separate stings are too intense for this to be just one. The strokes you are taking this time are first up against my pussy, then down across my ass. Up against my pussy, down across my ass. Faster and faster you go, and each stroke seems to be harder than the last. The pain is becoming more intense than you've ever given me before, and I glory in it, lose myself in it. Without meaning it to happen, I feel tears streaming my cheeks, the taste of their saltiness on my tongue. How I love this, losing myself in you and the pain you bring.

Gradually, the intensity and frequency of the lashes decrease, and then stop. I'm sobbing, but it's as much from the pain as from the loss of it. Your floggers are replaced by your hands gently caressing me, then they move up over my back and around to my breasts. The scratch of your denim jeans against my mortified flesh is almost as intense a pain as the flogger was, so sensitive is my skin.

I feel your tongue teasing my flogger-heated skin, and then your lips move against my back as you form barely audible words, "You were such a good girl. You didn't move at all. You took everything I gave you, and I am so very pleased."

You stand me up then remove the blindfold. "Go lie on the bed, on your back. I need to feel that tight little pussy of yours around me. I need to feel your hips rising up to meet mine. I need to fuck you, little one."

As I take the three steps to the edge of the bed, I sense you disrobing despite the thundering in my ears. Your words have done as much to arouse me as everything that came before: knowing that you are pleased with me, and that you need me as much as I need you, has brought me to throbbing arousal.

Lying on my back, painfully aware of the low thread count of the scratchy comforter against my reddened skin, I see you crossing the room to join me. Pulling my arms above my head with one hand, you cover me, and then guide the head of your cock to my eager pussy with your other hand. Your lips cover mine as you enter me, excruciatingly slowly. I know better than to move until you've told me I can, but still the hand that you used to guide yourself into me is pressing my hips down. As you finally bury yourself to the hilt inside me, I sigh contentedly, knowing that the evening has just begun.