The Countdown

You're sat across the room from me. I am kneeling with my naked buttocks resting down on my ankles. You've deliberately left the French doors open so the breeze chills my skin. You have told me to keep my eyes to the floor but I can't resist an occasional glance over to you. Each time I look, I notice how little attention you're am paying to me. I think to myself what I must have done to deserve this rejection but then I know that you've never needed a reason.

I've been in this position, kneeling with my hands resting behind my back now for probably no more than 10 minutes although it seems like an eternity. You click your fingers to get my attention and point to the floor in front of your chair. I keep your eyes low and crawl over to you before returning to my kneeling position between your legs.

You run your fingers through my hair passing down behind my ear. Suddenly, you tighten your grip, taking a handful of my hair, making me gasp. But I don't react further, I stay there with my eyes fixed to the floor, arms behind my back. This just seems to frustrate you further and you reach down for my already erect nipples. At first teasing them with soft brushes then firmly squeezing them between your finger tips and pulling them up to you. When I don't react this time you dig your fingernails in until I let out a little cry and look up to you.

Satisfied that you have my attention you look into my eyes and tell me that it won't be the last time you make me cry tonight. You push my head back down so I'm looking at the floor again. As I my eyes trail down I notice how hard you have become.

You tell me to fetch my panties from the corner of the room, and to return them to you in my mouth. You watch me crawl away, I do it nice and slowly for you, just how I know you like me to, with long strides so that my ass moves from side to side. When I return you drape my panties over my face so that I can taste my scent. You tell me to get on all fours in front of you. Leaning forwards to take your cup of tea from the table next to you, you take a sip but don't return it to the table. You balance it's hot base onto the delicate skin of my back. When you see me wriggle away from it you reach down and spank me firmly, just once. You tell me to arch my back and stick out my ass for you. This time I accept the cup willingly, quiet whimpers coming from my lips as it warms me. I concentrate on staying still for you while you finish watching whatever is on the TV.

Once it has finished you remove the mug from my back and tell me to kneel again for you. You tell me to unfasten your jeans then get you hard again with just my mouth. It doesn't take long for you to become stiff as my hungry mouth begins to work.

You get to your feet and undress, telling me that we're going to play a little game. That I am going to hold you deep in my throat and keep you there for as long as I can. You say that you will not be holding me down as it is time I learnt to do this without your help. You explain that while I do that you're going to count down from 30 and when I pull away from you, the number that you're on will be number of spanks I will receive, and each one will increase in intensity.

You walk closer to me and place your cock against my waiting lips. I open my mouth, eager to take you. You want to make sure you're nice and deep from the start of your count down, not allowing me to cheat. You take my head firmly and ease your cock slowly into my mouth until your balls are practically touching my chin. I start to cough a little so you pull back slightly and let me catch my breath for a moment. You tell me to take a deeper breath this time, and I sense you growing impatient. You give me a moment then force yourself into my throat this time. Satisfied that you're deep enough, you nod down at me and release the grasp on my head.

Starting to count, 30. You look down at me, loving how full my mouth looks, kneeling between your legs, hands behind my back with your cock deep inside my throat. 27. My eyes start to water as my gag reflex kicks in, 23. The way my throat is contracting around your length only serves to make you harder and thicker for me to cope with, 19, my eyes well up more, tears rolling down my cheeks and I pull back coughing and spluttering.

You don't wait for me to recover and catch my breath, you drag me by my hand and push me face down onto the bed. Picking up 2 pairs of cuffs fasten my outstretched hands to the top of the bed. I am still coughing a little through deep breaths as your first strike hits my ass. You decide that I'm wriggling about too much so you fasten my feet down to the bottom of the bed as well. I groan loudly, knowing there's no escape for me now. Number 2 hits and instantly starts to sting. You aim a little lower with your next 2, aiming just under my cheeks. 5, 6, 7 and 8 strike my ass again, repeatedly in the exact same position causing delicious pink marks to begin to form.

I'm pulling hard against my bonds now, trying to free myself, but only because I know it is pointless, desparate for you to finish while at the same time not wanting it to ever end...