What Was I Thinking?
I can’t believe I agreed to this. I’ve let this woman tie me up, and here I am, spread-eagle on her bed, my ass in the air, and she’s tormenting me. What was I thinking? I’m a top, for heaven’s sake. What self-respecting top would do this?
On the other hand, my cunt can’t lie – I’m more turned on that I’ve been in a long time, judging by the juices flowing down my inner thighs. Uh oh, she’s noticed! She’s putting a glove on and is touching me there. And higher. How humiliating, for her to know how much her taunting has excited me! Oh, no, it’s the first time she’s touched me, and all of a sudden I’m self-conscious about my fat pussy. Will it gross her out? I guess not because she’s stroking me. The warmth of her hand on my cunt is delicious, and I find myself pressing against her, telegraphing how much more I want. She laughs at my desperation and slaps me, the tips of her finger zinging against my piercing, causing my clit to jump and forcing a moan out of me.
I know what she’s doing… goodness knows I’ve done it myself dozens of times. I can almost imagine how I look, how my cunt feels to her, how the impact felt on her hand, the erotic jolt it hopefully gave her when she did it. My mind wanders and I find myself slipping into analytical top space. I almost start to feel ridiculous until she slaps me again and calls me a greedy slut, pulls my hair to move my ear close to her lips and whispers how much she’s going to enjoy hearing me scream when she tires herself out using me until she’s satisfied. How much fun it is having a slut like me to use as long as she wants. It all makes my head swim and I abandon top space for deep submission to her will.
But what’s she saying now? Something about beating me as foreplay? Oh no! I panic. I’m such a pain wimp that I’m not sure I can do what she needs. I start to worry, to tense. She senses this and strokes the back of my neck, calming me. When I’ve relaxed a bit she goes away, slips off the glove, and comes back to stroke my ass. She pauses and I feel a paddle against my skin. The impact is light, pleasant and makes me squirm. A few more strokes like that and my confidence is back – I can do this! I even like it! I moan and entice her in to give me more, begging her with my ass.
She expertly brings me up, then down again, building my excitement and my endorphins. Soon, though, the strokes are more painful, burning. I cry out… doesn’t she know this hurts? Duh, of course she knows, that’s the point. But can I take it? We get dangerously close to the edge of my tolerance and I feel close to safewording. I don’t want to, I want to take this for her. But it really hurts and the pleasure is leaving, only the pain remaining. But my cunt continues to gush so some part of my body, or maybe my mind, is enjoying this. I start to moan and rock back and forth, trying to find that place that’s finding this terrible pain pleasurable. I need to touch that place, to live there, to make the pain into pleasure to take more. Nothing else exists except the sensations in my body, the feel of her through the paddle, our shared breath, the soaring place my body is going as she controls and uses me.
She leans over and tells me I’m being good, she’s getting the satisfaction she needs, and warns me there will now be four more hard strokes. I nod, forcing out a “Yes, Sir,” to acknowledge I’ve heard and am ready, and take a long shaky breath. The first one lands and I scream from the pain of it. Can I really take three more?? A part of me scolds that coward – it’s only 3, how bad can it be? But then just a moment later the second one lands and I think my head is going to explode. I can’t pay attention to my ass because it’s so painful that if I do it will hurt more and I’ll do almost anything to run away from that pain. Hating it, I use my warning safeword. She leans over and asks me what I need. I tell her that I’m not sure I can take more pain than that, that I’m scared of it. She asks if we need to stop the paddling and I say no, that I just need a pause, and I want to try to take her pain. I can feel her excitement at my desire to please. We breathe together. She tells me to let her know when I’m ready. I ask for water, drink, take a few more breaths and look her in the eye. I tell her I’m ready. She nods, strokes my ass, steps back, and lands the paddle again. I scream again. She delivers the final stroke, right up at my pain tolerance. But I take it and she’s done and I’m burning all over. There are tears streaming down my cheeks and my breath is ragged. She circles around me, tips up my face by my chin, and wipes away my tears. She smiles and nods at me, and kisses my wet cheeks. I drink the water she offers, and catch my breath. Then she’s ready for me again.
She unties me, gently takes hold of my hair, and puts me on my knees. She walks by me and sits on the upholstered chair nearby, then motions me to come over. I crawl on hands and knees and sit next to her feet. She smiles at me as she unfastens her belt and pulls open her jeans, pulling them down just enough to expose her cunt. She tells me to put on a glove and fuck her. At last, something I know I’m good at! I eagerly slip gloves on both hands (you never know when not just one will do!) and reach for her. She grabs my hand and pushes it against her and tells me to fuck her with two fingers. I worry that I haven’t lubed my hand but her cunt is wet and slippery and I don’t need any. I slide in and she leans back, her hands still on mine, jamming my fingers inside her. She eventually lets go and closes her eyes, pushing against my hand. Then she starts giving me very explicit directions about how hard and which way and to add another finger and to slow down and to speed up. I’m not used to this. I’m used to feeling my way inside, using my intuition to tell me what to do, asking questions when I want, going at my pace. But that’s not what this is about. I’m the tool to be used for her pleasure, and she tells me this over and over, getting off on the power of it. After a while I am completely lost in pleasuring her, doing exactly what she wants, losing touch with how all of this is for me and completely focusing on her, giving her exactly what she wants. My hand starts to hurt but I hardly even notice because my body is so completely unimportant. Nothing matters but pleasing her, as long and as hard as she says.
After a time, I have no idea how long it was, she grabs my hand again and pulls me into her hard, and holds me there as the spasms of her orgasm squeeze my hand even harder. She holds me inside and I feel her pulse, and smell the deep musk of her coming. Her body jerks again and then she is still, my hand still inside her. We are both panting and sweating, and I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be. Usually I end a scene getting fucked, with that earth shattering orgasm that leaves me satisfied. As much as I want to come right now I know that it will only happen if she wants it, and that seems exactly as it should be.