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Authors: B. B. Roman
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spanked his cheek hard with the paddle, the high-pitched slap echoing throughout the dungeon. I saw every muscle in his body tense as he braced for my next move.
"Yes, Master!" he said. "I've been very bad!"
"That's right!" Thwack! I hit him again, this time even harder. I cringed when I heard his groan, worried I was really hurting him. I felt my Dom character fading away. "Roland, are you okay?" I whispered.
"Pet, I'm just fine. I'm no stranger to this, I promise. My safe word is blue. If you hear it, you must stop. Have your fun now." The words sputtered out rapidly with no pauses between the sentences.
I took a deep breath and lifted my arm into the air. I struck him three more consecutive times. "Bad slave!" I cried out between each repetition. His skin was flushed red, obviously stinging. Still, he fought to control his groans, his arms flexing tightly as he gripped the restraints for stability.
Satisfied with the outcome of the paddle, I set it down and grabbed the whip. I struck him two times rapidly, surprising him.
"Oh god, oww!" he cried o ut. I needed to ignore his whines of pain unless he delivered the safe word , as hard as that could be . That was how we always operated down here, an agreement that we both were required to honor for this to work at all.
I whipped his thighs and each cheek of his buttocks, alternating sides and locations with each strike of the whip. Yes, I knew how much it hurt because of how many times he had used it on me. "Alright, slave," I said. "You get a little break."
"Thank you, Master," he said. I grabbed a bottle of lube and stepped toward him, covering my fingers as I went. When I bent down, I could see his semi-flaccid cock hanging between his legs. I took it tightly in my fingers, covering it with lube until I could barely maintain my grip.
From that compromised angle, I pumped my non-dominant left hand up and down him until he was fully erect, hungrily watching his body p ulse as I stroked . "Oh yes, Master," he whined. "Thank you." His body rose and fell with the movements of my fingers.
My clit was aching at this point, so I slipped my fingers down toward it and swirled my fingers in rhythm with the stroking. I quickly lost my balance in that awkward position—it had only been a very short-term possibility, apparently!—and collapsed against his tensed body. I quickly found th at it was far too difficult to maintain both motions at once, so I pulled my hand from him and considered my options going forward. I was totally out of breath and sweat trickled down my forehead from my exertion
Part of me wanted to get one of the strap-on dildos in the box, to brandish it and fuck him silly until he begged me to stop—but that seemed just little too far to me, too sinister . And b y that point, my clit felt like it was burning, my body begging me to massage away that tension I was unwisely holding so much of. The shrieking desire of my body was drowning out the power I held, reducing it to nothing. Dominating Roland had just made me want him even more, to relinquish control to the man that already seemed to hold so much already.
"Master?" he asked, realizing I hadn't said a word in several minutes. Roland turned his neck the best he could from his compromised position, struggling to get a look at my naked, pulsing body.
I was in the wrong place . I needed to be where he was, and he needed to be where I was. "Please make me come." It was all I could say, my fingers scrambling to undo all of the restraints so I could make things right.
Roland sighed and collapsed against the wall, a very short-lived break because I immediately—and frantically—pushed him out of the way. I tried to line my hands and feet up with the restraints, almost like I was trying to fit into a mold of his body's proportions. He had to make adjustments.
"Fuck me, please," I whined. I loved how the leather felt around my wrists and ankles, my body perfe ctly adjusted and opened to him like an
"Yes, Master!" he said. "I've been very bad!"
"That's right!" Thwack! I hit him again, this time even harder. I cringed when I heard his groan, worried I was really hurting him. I felt my Dom character fading away. "Roland, are you okay?" I whispered.
"Pet, I'm just fine. I'm no stranger to this, I promise. My safe word is blue. If you hear it, you must stop. Have your fun now." The words sputtered out rapidly with no pauses between the sentences.
I took a deep breath and lifted my arm into the air. I struck him three more consecutive times. "Bad slave!" I cried out between each repetition. His skin was flushed red, obviously stinging. Still, he fought to control his groans, his arms flexing tightly as he gripped the restraints for stability.
Satisfied with the outcome of the paddle, I set it down and grabbed the whip. I struck him two times rapidly, surprising him.
"Oh god, oww!" he cried o ut. I needed to ignore his whines of pain unless he delivered the safe word , as hard as that could be . That was how we always operated down here, an agreement that we both were required to honor for this to work at all.
I whipped his thighs and each cheek of his buttocks, alternating sides and locations with each strike of the whip. Yes, I knew how much it hurt because of how many times he had used it on me. "Alright, slave," I said. "You get a little break."
"Thank you, Master," he said. I grabbed a bottle of lube and stepped toward him, covering my fingers as I went. When I bent down, I could see his semi-flaccid cock hanging between his legs. I took it tightly in my fingers, covering it with lube until I could barely maintain my grip.
From that compromised angle, I pumped my non-dominant left hand up and down him until he was fully erect, hungrily watching his body p ulse as I stroked . "Oh yes, Master," he whined. "Thank you." His body rose and fell with the movements of my fingers.
My clit was aching at this point, so I slipped my fingers down toward it and swirled my fingers in rhythm with the stroking. I quickly lost my balance in that awkward position—it had only been a very short-term possibility, apparently!—and collapsed against his tensed body. I quickly found th at it was far too difficult to maintain both motions at once, so I pulled my hand from him and considered my options going forward. I was totally out of breath and sweat trickled down my forehead from my exertion
Part of me wanted to get one of the strap-on dildos in the box, to brandish it and fuck him silly until he begged me to stop—but that seemed just little too far to me, too sinister . And b y that point, my clit felt like it was burning, my body begging me to massage away that tension I was unwisely holding so much of. The shrieking desire of my body was drowning out the power I held, reducing it to nothing. Dominating Roland had just made me want him even more, to relinquish control to the man that already seemed to hold so much already.
"Master?" he asked, realizing I hadn't said a word in several minutes. Roland turned his neck the best he could from his compromised position, struggling to get a look at my naked, pulsing body.
I was in the wrong place . I needed to be where he was, and he needed to be where I was. "Please make me come." It was all I could say, my fingers scrambling to undo all of the restraints so I could make things right.
Roland sighed and collapsed against the wall, a very short-lived break because I immediately—and frantically—pushed him out of the way. I tried to line my hands and feet up with the restraints, almost like I was trying to fit into a mold of his body's proportions. He had to make adjustments.
"Fuck me, please," I whined. I loved how the leather felt around my wrists and ankles, my body perfe ctly adjusted and opened to him like an
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