Whenever

I am practically vibrating with anticipation as I stand naked before your clothed form after many long weeks. I note the subtle energy radiating off you as you make the careful loops that wrap around each other to form the chest harness you have selected for today. The casual ease of the rope knots around my wrists is a testament to years of practice together. You bid me to kowtow before you as you secure a spreader bar between my ankles. With my head to the floor, I hear you step away and then return to my prostate form. You drag your nails down my back eliciting an arch into the palms that come to roughly grab the cheeks of my ass. Absentmindedly you massage them, testing their firmness, as you prize them apart to look at my star. You stare a moment before blowing on it just to feel me wiggle. Feeling the lube drop lets me know that this is more than just preliminary. Your finger guiding the slick fluid around and in isn't really much preparation for the thick steel bulb I feel pressing at my entrance. Regardless, I take a deep breath and yield to its impartial intrusion. Deftly, you secure what turns out to be a hook rather than a plug to my harness, adding just a bit of tension. Contemplatively, you step around.

Your boots land heavily next to my ear, yet your voice telling me to "Lick them till they shine," holds much more resonance. Of course, I'll do it; there is no question, there is no choice. Hungrily, I get to my task, waiting for your approval. "Look at how desperate you are," you comment as I round the outside edge of your other boot. "You want this cock?"

"More than anything, Master," I reply, barely stopping.

"Well then, come and get it," comes the cold response.

My bound hands reach for the button on your pants, but you step back saying, "I don't think you've earned that privilege." Shamelessly, I shove my face in your crotch trying to get my teeth to grab the fabric I can pull to undo the button. I can smell you, but I cannot reach you. The trick takes me several frustrating minutes like it always does. Finally, your penis is free. Vexingly, before I can get it in my mouth, you grab my hair. "What do you say?" you tease.

My eyes say it much louder than my words, "Please, Master."

You nod and immediately are engulfed in my hot, wet mouth. Your groan as my tongue puts pressure on your frenulum is all the encouragement that I need. My enthusiastic movements cause my heavy breasts to bounce slightly and consistently remind me of the hook in my ass, but I focus on taking as much of your length in my mouth as I can. I wouldn't dare use my hands. You enjoy yourself long enough that the spit dripping off your balls creates a small pool in the carpet.

Too soon, you redirect me, "Undress me." My hands move as a single unit from being tied causing me to fumble, especially with your laces. As you step out of your remaining boot you reprimand me, "That certainly took you long enough," which was to be expected. What was unexpected was for you to shove me in the shoulder with your foot hard enough for me to awkwardly fall to the side from my kneeling position. Quickly you retrieve the crop. Before I get my bearings about me the sharp snap of leather on my breast begins correcting my posture. I lay on my back, but am not quick enough to prevent the slap to my foot that lets me know to extend my legs. Conversely, you slip the crop under my wrists to slowly guide them to your desired place above my head.

This change of pace follows into your meandering tracing of the lines of my body - Down my arm, between my breasts, around to the opposite outside of my hip and back inward to my lower inner thigh. I never really lose the tension in my body, though the soft touches entice me too, but as you painstakingly make your way up my inner thigh, I close my eyes just for a moment. The strike to my left breast catches me unawares and I cry out. Back and forth you alternate. It is here that the beauty of your choice to bind me becomes further evident. By now my breasts are slightly swollen and extra sensitive, making each hit far more taxing than normal. Still, I show discipline and attempt to hold my body and tongue still so that you may play with your toy as you please, praying you might allow me my fun later. I imagine you are having fun now as you pause to tease my nipples with the smooth leather. The continuation of your assault finds me breaking. Stronger filches from my arms as I seek protection, louder and louder cries. You love to watch this progression, watching my strength leave me. When the whole of my lungs is behind my yells, you are satisfied, but you throw in a swat to my exposed pussy just for kicks.

Discarding the crop you come to straddle my waist on the ground. You glare at me until I pry my arms away from my chest and return them their former position above my head. Your hand rests on my heaving diaphragm while you admire the red hue that covers me. Your fingers drift upward over the intricate weave of the ropes to feel the radiating heat. My eyes return to yours as the intensity of your grip increases. Pinching one nipple and then the other elicits a hiss. It is then that you bring the Wartenberg wheel into my line of sight.

With a small smile you place it at my bottom lip and drag it down my chin, down my neck, down my chest, and to the edge of my harness - threatening me with a promise. Tracing concentric circles around my breasts sets me writhing, the movement teasing your balls where they rest against me. The small asterisks you draw over my nipples cause my breathing to strain against the restricting ropes. You take a moment to appreciate just how much I will put up with for the chance of being with you. Eventually, you lean down and reward me with a kiss. I love the feel of your soft, full lips in mine. My hope rises as I feel you move to slide down my form, but before I can wander too far you devour my sore nipples. You take your time to cover the whole of each breast, leaving pretty marks in your wake.

You find my pussy dripping wet from waiting for you for so long. When you make that first sinful touch with your tongue touch, you smile at my audible gasp. Broad stokes utilize the whole of my sex. You flirt with my vagina; giving me just enough to make me beg vainly with my hips. Instead you travel just north. You find a rhythm that turns my carnal moans to verbal pleas. The tension builds in my thighs around you. Quickly, you take my clit and suck it. I'm screaming, "Oh God, Yes!" when you take away all contact. The tone in my voice as I implore you to let me feel that sweet satiation lets you know how expertly you guided me right to the very edge.

Ruthlessly, you slap my pussy, hard. The pain causes a different kind of adrenaline to rush through me that drags me away from my pleasure. The spreader bar that is shoved up near my face cues me to wrap my arms around it and hold it there. A multitude of pin pricks trace a line down my right labia majora, a totally foreign sensation to me. I do not like it. It's entertaining for you to watch me struggle with having had my orgasm stolen from me for the sake of this lazy torture. My twisted and bound body lets you revel in the freedom of being able to do whatever you want with yours. The shining metal of the almost forgotten hook tempts you to tap and tug on it. You see no reason to resist. Only when you know I have truly slid all the way back down the hill that leads to climax, do you take your cock in your hand.

Maddeningly, you inch your way into my wanting hole, delighting in the added tightness the hook provides. However, entry is the only measured piece of the fucking that commences after. The bar pinned awkwardly between us does nothing to waylay the sudden release of ferocious energy pent up over the session. My muscles strain and stretch under your weight, but I hardly notice for the sheer relief of finally, finally, having you inside me. I grasp at my knowledge of reality as you pound into me, driving forth with all that the world has given you. I smell sex. I hear our panting. I taste salt. I see nothing because my eyes are closed. Nothing matters more than feeling you penetrate me. Frantically I chase after the body-rending orgasm I know only you can give me. Suddenly, I feel you jerk, that pressure as you come inside me, filling me up. I protest verbally and bodily, or as much as I can, as you pull out. You look ineffably pleased as I lie there so full of need that I might actually cry. I know that it's all for not when you get up and return with a ring gag.

Once it's secured, you unceremoniously thrust two fingers inside my pussy. You bring your come laden fingers out and smear layers of the still warm fluid over my nipples and face, across my lips and deep into my mouth. As a final measure, you bring out a dildo and shove it into my pussy. I thought maybe you might-, but no. You stand up and observe me for a moment, trussed up to your desire, immobile and full, with your wet stickiness cooling all over me. And you leave me, knowing I'll be there for you whenever you want.