Jen Liked My Stories Ch 2

Jen Liked My Stories Ch. 2: Pearl

I've decided that you are going to be my whore. Send me a long email acknowledging this fact, and make some suggestions on how to use you in ways that I might enjoy. Don't spare yourself pain or humiliation. Don't worry; I am in control and your writing it doesn't mean I'll do it or that you want it done. I do want complete surrender, however.

From this day forward every email you send me should begin with these words:

I am your whore. Please use my mouth, my cunt, and my asshole for your pleasure. Please punish me at your whim, harshly when I displease you.

My heart was pounding as I clicked the “Send” button, speeding these words through hyperspace towards her pussy and her heart. “Was it too soon?” I wondered. “No,” I thought, “Trust your instincts, she’s ready.”

We had recently begun an online relationship, and like most D/s relationships, online or real-time, it had progressed quickly to levels of intimacy that take months in a vanilla relationship. I called her “Pearl” because our relationship had started with her irritation at the way I treated women in my stories, just as a pearl starts as an irritating grain of sand in an oyster’s heart. I knew from the beginning, despite her harsh words, that she had contacted me because my stories spoke to her in the soft wet flesh of her heart, and in soft wet flesh elsewhere.

I knew I was pushing things along fast by sending this email, but I wanted to push her into reactions beyond what she could easily take. In the past I had too often been too artful, bringing women along so skillfully that they never really experienced inner conflict. If this was going to mean what I thought it might mean, I wanted her to have moments when she absolutely hated me, fighting what she knew inside, fighting the inevitable realization that I was what she had been seeking all her life.

She certainly seemed to be everything I had been seeking. Beautiful physically, body just my type, the dark hair I love. Intelligence, the primary quality, she had in excess. Challenging personality, not the type to go along with someone else’s opinion unless she truly believed it herself, able to argue persuasively about politics. Submissive, though, and fighting it all the way. Our one phone conversation had sealed it. She had a giggly, goofy, girlish voice, which combined with brainpower is one of the sexiest qualities I’ve ever experienced. I knew I wanted her, I knew she could be the one I’d been looking so hard for, but I also knew that I didn’t want to use all my skill and all my power to manipulate her to where I wanted her. I wanted her to come in spite of her reservations, in spite of her humiliation at my requiring her to be my whore, in spite of her mother’s voice in her head telling her that women weren’t supposed to feel this way. I wanted her to realize that making her my whore was the most beautiful and sacred thing I could give to her. And I wanted to risk everything for the reward of her coming to that realization, too.

I wasn’t surprised when her first response was negative. She sent me a picture of her, naked taken from behind, her ass in full view. The image was labeled, kissmine.jpg. Oh, I definitely wanted to. I laughed, for her response fit everything I knew about her. I also chuckled to myself because I had told her that a nice ass was an important physical quality to me. Hers was world-class. She knew the picture would turn me on, and I had to laugh to myself because even in her defiance she wanted me to see her ass, see what I’d be missing.

I did not respond, but waited for the email I hoped would come. When it came I nervously clicked it open. It said:

I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I miss talking to you too much. I am your whore. Please use my mouth, my cunt, and my asshole for your pleasure. Please punish me at your whim, harshly when I displease you.

I immediately sent a reply with nothing in it but a hotel name and address, and a date and time two weeks away, and a statement that I would talk to her then, and not before.

....................................................................................................

I opened the door to the sound of Pearl’s tentative knock. I pulled open the door, grabbed a handful of her dark hair, and pulled her to me hard. I kissed her hard and passionately, raping her mouth with my tongue, molesting her with my lips. The kiss was dirty and passionate and punishing, all at once. To her credit, she took what I gave her and met it with passion of her own. I turned her away from me by her hair and pushed her roughly against the closed hotel room door.

“Put your hands on the door, bitch, and don’t take them off until I say you can,” I snarled. With my face pressed against the side of hers, and hers pressed into the door beside that little plate that tells you the room’s cost, I whispered to her, “Why are you here?” I was ready for any number of answers, but the one she gave melted my heart.

“To be your whore,” she said simply.

I turned her around to face me. My eyes were wet. I began to kiss her softly, just as dominating as before, but softly, gently. “Get your hands back on the door,” I said firmly, and went back to kissing her.

“Do you want to be my whore?” I asked, between kisses.

“Yes,” she replied, breathlessly, her hands on the door above her.

“Say it,” I said.

“I want to be your whore,” she said.

“Again.”

“I want to be your whore, I want to be your whore, I want to be your whore.”

“You are my whore.”

“I am your whore,” she said, tears in her eyes.

I abruptly moved away from her, and sat on the bed. Like a good girl, she stayed in place against the door, hands above her head, touching the door behind her.

“We have to deal with your defiance, don’t we?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, in a small voice.

“Get your clothes off and come here.” To her credit, she quickly complied. Standing before me, trembling, was one of the most attractive women I’d ever seen. It’s not that she was magazine-beautiful, but she was everything I like in a woman. I reached to her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her naked body across my lap.

“This is punishment, not sensual, do you understand?”

“Yes,” she replied, meekly.

I wrapped my belt around my hand, leaving about eight inches of leather dangling from the end. I began to methodically slap her with the end of the belt, alternating ass cheeks, not enough to leave welts, but enough to sting badly, the kind of stings that bring a cumulative pain. I struck first on one cheek, then the other. At first she tried to pretend that it didn’t hurt, finally she began writhing. I stopped when she made the first audible sound.

“Do you understand that you hurt me with your email?” I asked.

“Yes, but...”

“Quiet. I’m doing the talking, I don’t need excuses, just confirmation that you understand. Do you understand that you hurt me?”

“Yes.”

“When I’m done, all hurt will be forgiven, and this will be behind us. I’ll never bring it up again, and you will feel no guilt. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I began spanking her again, this time harder. She began to writhe more vigorously, as the pain began to accumulate. I gripped her waist hard, immobilizing her, and began to spank her harder.

“Please stop, I’m sorry, please, it hurts,” she cried. She was sobbing loudly now.

“Ten more,” I said.

“No, please, no, no more,” she cried out. “I’m sorry, please no more.”

“Quiet!” I commanded. “Or this will go on longer.” She quieted, some, but still crying a little. “I’m going to give you ten more...”

“No, please...” she interrupted.

“Quiet!”

“I’m going to give you ten more hard ones, and I want you to be a good girl and take them for me. Then we’ll be done and we can put this behind us. Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”

She nodded reluctantly. “Yes,” she said, very quietly.

I gave her ten more measured blows. She didn’t fight me, she just cried quietly. She accompanied each strike with an “Oww,” and a flinch.

When I finished, I pulled her up to me. I held her tight and kissed her and hugged her, and told her she was a good girl. She kissed me on the face and neck, hugging me tightly. We began to make out, crazy with passion. One of the amazing things about D/s is its ability to bring out passion you didn’t know you had in you. We made out crazily for a few minutes, her crying the whole time, kissing me and holding me and touching me.“Let go and cry,” I told her. “Your tears are beautiful.” She cried for a long time while I held her, telling her she was beautiful and sexy and mine.

Finally I pulled her head up to look in my eyes. I slipped my hand down again began to rub her pussy, which was completely soaked.

“You are not to have an orgasm, do you understand?” I said. She looked at me puzzled. She had told me in email that she had great difficulty having orgasms. I chose to remove all pressure she might feel by simply telling her she wasn’t allowed to cum. I also suspected that this might make it easier for her to cum in the future.

I pushed her down on the bed on her back. I pushed my hand between her legs, pushing her legs apart as far as they would go. We began to make out again, while I explored her pussy with my hand. She was very responsive. I could tell she was desperately ready to be fucked. I stood up and got undressed. My cock stood at attention. Her eyes widened when she saw me. I’m not particularly long, but I’m very big around.

I reached down into my pants on the floor and pulled out a bottle of Astroglide. I squeezed an excessive amount into the palm of my hand, and lay down beside her on the bed again. I began to kiss her, and as I kissed her I rubbed the Astroglide between her legs, paying particular attention to the area between her beautiful ass cheeks. As we made out, I pushed a very slippery finger into her ass as far as it would go. I began to finger-fuck her ass, just as I had her pussy, all the while kissing her. I slipped another finger in, now finger-fucking her ass with two fingers. When I felt her relax, I withdrew my fingers, raising up on my knees between her spread legs. I squeezed more Astroglide into my hand, and began to stroke my hard cock, slowly working the lubricant all along its length. Lowering myself down, I said, “Guide me into your ass.” I felt her hand grip me and position the head at her tight hole. As I began to push against her, I said, “I want to fuck your ass face-to-face, because I want to be close to you. I want it to hurt a little, because I want you to take it for me.”

I pushed the head in, and she sucked in her breath sharply. I gave her a moment to recover. “Are you ready to take this for me now? Are you ready for me to give you this fucking?”

“Yes,” she said. “Please.”

I pushed in the rest of the way firmly. I held her face in both hands, and kissed her while I fucked her ass. I looked into her pretty face. Her eyes were tightly closed. “Look at me when I’m fucking you,” I told her. She opened her eyes and we stared at each other, no place to hide. I began to stroke her long and hard, though not fast. We made love, kissing and fucking, though with the extra intimacy that anal sex provides. As I felt my orgasm approaching, I stopped. I wanted to come another way.

I pulled out and knelt on the floor. I pulled her closer to the edge of the bed and pushed her legs wide, my face now just inches from her pussy. I knew she was self-conscious about this, which simply added to my pleasure.

“Spread your legs wide, and hold them open,” I ordered. I pushed my nose close to her pussy, and sniffed loudly. “I smell you,” I told her. “God, you’re wet. And your asshole is so stretched from that fucking I just gave you. What a slut you are.” I looked at her face. She turned away, blushing. “Look at me,” I ordered. “If I look up and catch you not looking at me, I’m going to spank your pussy instead of licking it.”

I started kissing all around her pussy, her inner thighs, her stomach, her ass, everywhere but her pussy. She began to squirm around, trying to push into contact with me somewhere.

“You are such a slut. Look at you, you are so in heat you’d hump that table leg over there.” I teased her a while longer, before finally beginning to lick up and down her slit, still avoiding her clit. After driving her to the brink of frenzy, I pushed my lips over the top part of her pussy, and began to french kiss her clit. She went crazy, bucking against me, moaning, grabbing my hair. I stopped for a moment, reminding her of my prohibition against her having an orgasm. I continued again, licking her clit and pushing two fingers into her wet pussy. I think she would have cum, but I stopped before she had the chance.

I was ready to cum. I got up on the bed, and straddled her face. I was looking down at her spread legs, a knee on each side of her breasts. I began to stroke my lubed cock.

“Are you my whore?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. She was becoming more confident with this.

“Then do what you think will please me,” I said. She hesitated. I stroked my cock a little more urgently. I lowered myself until my ass was right near her face.

“Are you my whore?”

“Yes,” she said, though this time a little less confidently.

I lowered myself until there was no mistake as to what I wanted. My ass was right in her face.

“Let yourself go and please me, slut,“ I said, a little less patiently. I felt her begin to kiss and lick my ass cheeks tentatively on either side of where I wanted her.

“Lick my asshole, dammit. Make me cum.” I pushed myself down into her face. Finally, I felt her tongue touch me where I needed it. “Lick it, bitch,” I said. “Let it go, be the slut you’ve always wanted to be, no one’s judging you, you’re my whore, you’ve said it, now please me like my whore. I’m clean there, if that’s what you’re worried about” She began to lick me in earnest now. “Do it harder, I want to feel it, slut,” I said, punctuating my command with a slap to her pussy. She really began to go after it, and I felt her give, felt her break, not in a bad or a degrading way, but finally give over to me, to my pleasure. She began to lick me for my enjoyment, like she would give a blow job. I focused on my own pleasure, stroking my cock. I masturbated, Pearl’s tongue up my ass, until I felt a monster orgasm coming on. Timing my strokes for maximum pleasure, I came, stroking into my hand, filling up my cupped hand with my cum. I got off her, turned around, and held my cum-filled hand close to her face. She looked at me for a moment, then did what she knew I wanted. She lapped up my cum, while I said sweet words and stroked her hair, told her how much she had pleased me, told her what a good girl she had been.

When she finished, I slipped into bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her from behind, spooning. “I could be in trouble with this one,” I thought dreamily, as I drifted off to sleep.