Bliss Ch. 02

"You are always so put together, always in control, always so correct," he whispered, nuzzling my neck. "But deep down you're a dirty little girl, aren't you?" I pressed against him as his hands slid down my sides to my hips. "You dress in your fine clothes and live in your posh condo...." He slipped his fingers under the waistband of my panties and pushed them down, making me wince at the way they seemed too peel off me. God! I was so wet already. "Dating nice men. Respectful men. Men who would never grab you and kiss you." He grabbed my ponytail and pulled my head back, kissing me hard. I opened my mouth to him, no resistance, aroused by his strength. "They didn't excite you, did they?" He reached down and slipped his fingers between my pussy lips, gently stroking my clit. "They couldn't. They couldn't see what I see, Melody, what I saw the first time I touched you." He kissed me again and I tried to keep his mouth on mine, sucking at his tongue. He slipped a finger inside me and I moaned into his mouth. "They didn't see the little slut that you are." He kissed me again, his mouth and tongue claiming mine, possessing my mouth and tongue. "They didn't see her, but I did. I saw her, and knew I had to have her."

"Take off your panties and climb on the bed," he said, removing my hands from behind his neck and giving me a push. I stepped out of my underwear and moved to the foot of the bed, glancing back at him over my shoulder. His eyes were on my ass as I climbed slowly on the bed, moving towards the center.

"Stop," he said. I stopped, on all fours, and looked back at him. He had taken off his t-shirt and belt. The bulge in his jeans was unmistakable. He came over to the bed and began caressing my ass. "Lovely."

I put my head down, trying not to think about what he was looking at, but raised it as his fingers slipped inside me again. I shuddered, feeling my pussy clamp around his fingers. He started moving his fingers slowly in and out.

"Malcolm..." I began, but was stopped by a sharp slap on my ass. It stung and brought tears to my eyes.

"Call me Sir."

"What? I don't understand, Malc-"

SLAP! Another spanking, this time harder. This stinging heat seemed to shoot out from where his hand connected with my ass cheek and aim straight at my pussy making me cry out.

"You are to address me as Sir when we are not in public. Do you understand now?"

"Yes, Sir," I moaned.

"Hmmm...." he said, moving his fingers deeper inside me. "I think you liked that, didn't you? Did you like the way I slapped your ass, my little slut?" I shook my head no, embarrassed, thinking back to the conversation I'd had with Tony the night before.

SLAP! SLAP SLAP SLAP! Malcolm spanked me again, four times in quick succession, and I couldn't stop myself from moaning and angling my ass towards him, lifting to give him fuller access to it.

"Liar," he laughed. "I'll ask you again -- you like it when I spank you, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," I whispered, .

"Good girl," he said. "I'll give you a right proper spanking later if you behave." I shivered at the dark, delicious promise in his voice. "Now...spread your legs, and put your head down, your back bowed for me." I obeyed, knowing it opened myself up to him obscenely and feeling my clit throb as I thought about what he was looking at. I was so wet I could feel it running down my thighs. "That's my little slut." I moaned as he pulled his fingers out and began stroking me from my clit to my anus. I lowered my head to the bed and pushed back, angling my hips towards him, as he slowly smeared my wetness around. "You like this?"

"Yes, Sir," I sighed, feeling goosebumps rise on my back.

"Tell me how you feel."

"I feel like an offering to you."

"Yes," he said, as he pushed a finger in my ass. My breath caught in my throat in surprise. I'd never had anything in my ass before. I felt him press a finger on to my clit and then his tongue -- his strong tongue -- was inside my pussy and wriggling around.

"Oh! Oh...oh god....please..." I moaned as he started to move his finger, fucking my ass with it while his tongue fucked my pussy. "So good," I panted, pushing back against his face. He moaned against me and I came quickly, throwing my head back and growling from the pleasure. He stilled his finger as my orgasm subsided and gently lapped around my lips. I whined as he slowly pulled his finger out of my ass.

"Turn over," he said. I did, sort of collapsing on to my side and scooting on to my back, my breathing still rapid. "Spread your legs," he said, pulling off his belt. I did, throwing an arm over my eyes, not wanting to see him looking at me.

"No," he said, grabbing my wrists. He deftly wound his belt around them, securing them tightly.

"Sir! No...please..."

"Sshhhh. I'm not going to hurt you, poppit." He caressed my cheek, looking at me questioningly, and I nodded. I don't even know why I had protested at all, unless it was just to save face. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me towards the edge of the bed. I brought my knees together, feeling beyond vulnerable. "No. Open your knees." I let my knees fall open, my eyes closing in embarrassment.

"Look at me." I opened my eyes and he smiled, running his hands up and down my thighs. He stared down at my sex. "What a juicy cunt this is." He took his finger and began circling my clit with it softly. "This is mine now, my little slut."

"Yes, Sir." I don't know if it was his voice, his tone, his words or his accent...maybe all four...but I knew at that point I would give him my soul if he asked for it. I was his. He could do with me as he wished.

His eyes locked with mine for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Mine." I caught my breath as he went down to his knees, putting my feet on his shoulders and pushing my knees apart.

I felt his tongue lightly running up and down my slit. "Oh...Sir," I sighed.

He pulled my lips apart and started right in on my clit. He licked it, sucked it, nibbled it...going from light touch to hard pressure...using his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. I pulled at my restraints, wanting to grab his head, wanting to play with my nipples. He sucked my clit into his mouth, gently biting it as he flicked his tongue over it and I was lost, my hips bucking as I came over and over and over.

"Please, Sir...please stop!" I finally sobbed. He moaned against me, sending a new brand of ecstasy in to my brain and making me come again. "Please... I beg you... stop..."

"Mmmmmm," he said, running his tongue around my opening and letting go of my lips. He stroked the insides of my thighs as the quaking of my body slowly subsided. "Interesting," he whispered, seemingly apropos of nothing, as he stood and looked at me. At some point he had taken the rest of his clothes off. I stared at his cock -- uncircumcised, not too long, but thick with prominent veins -- wanting to feel it inside me.

He grabbed the belt around my wrists and pulled me up to a sitting position. He kissed me, his face still slick, my taste thick on his tongue. I sighed in to his mouth, my tongue chasing his, desperate to get beneath the taste of me in his mouth and back to just him. He moved his mouth to my breasts, making circles around my left nipple with his tongue.

"Please," I moaned. "Please..."

"Hmmm," he said, moving his mouth to my right nipple and gently biting it.

"Please, Sir...please fuck me," I said even as I arched my back to give him freer access to bite and suck at the underside of my breasts.

"Yes," he said, pushing me back down on the bed and thrusting roughly inside me. I came again, crying out incoherently and clamping around his cock as it filled and stretched me, shuddering again at that delicious pain as he hit my cervix. "Your cunt feels so good," he crooned, his hands caressing my breasts. He remained still inside me for what seemed like a long moment, letting me catch my breath.

"Nooooo," I whined as he slowly pulled out of me.

"Come here," he said, pulling me by my wrists again until I was standing next to the bed. "Turn around and bend over." I turned around and bent over, putting my wrists above my head. I laid my forehead on the bed and closed my eyes. He slipped the tip of his cock inside me, teasing me. "Is this what my little slut wants?"

"Please, Sir."

"Is it this?", he asked teasingly, slamming all the way in to me, raising goosebumps along my spine and making me grunt. "Or is it this?" he asked, moving inside me slowly, gently. I pushed back, angling my hips up towards him, and he laughed. "I see," he said. He started fucking me hard and fast, laying on my back and reaching around to pinch and tweak my nipples. "You like this, little slut?"

"Yes!" I cried, the feeling of him inside me and what he was doing to my nipples bringing me to the edge of another orgasm. "Please don't stop, Sir." He pulled my nipples hard as his balls slapped against my pussy and I came with a breathless shriek.

He pushed against me, getting as much of himself inside me as he could, and groaned. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," he grunted, biting my shoulder as he came inside me. I felt him explode as I slowly came back down to earth.

He lay upon my back, breathing heavy, as he began to shrink inside me. My legs felt like jello, and I was concentrating on keeping them from shaking when I felt him right himself and pull out completely.

"Here, poppit," he said quietly, helping me stand up and turning me around to face him. He unbound my wrists slowly and dropped the belt on the floor next to us. "Are you alright?" he asked, gently massaging my wrists.

"Yes, fine." I was suddenly feeling really uncomfortable. Not...embarrassed. Just unsure of what to do or how to behave. I very clearly remember being somewhat afraid to even look at him.

"Why don't we clean ourselves up and go get some dinner?" he asked, pulling me to him and putting his arms around me. I laid my cheek against his chest, the soft hair tickling a bit.

"Alright," I said quietly. "Do you want to shower first?"

I felt his chuckle -- a low rumbling that vibrated from my ear to my clit -- at my question, and all of a sudden I wanted him again, I felt painfully empty without him inside me. "Why don't you go first?" he asked, giving me a kiss on the top of my head.

I went in to the bathroom and got in the shower, standing directly under the hot water with my head down. I was relaxing, thinking of nothing at all when I felt Malcolm's arm around my waist.

"Ah...poppit," he said, kissing my shoulder and turning me around.

"Poppit?," I asked.

"It's a term of endearment," he said. "Like 'babe' or 'love'."

"Oh."

He bent his head down and kissed me, hands sliding down to my ass and pressing himself against me so I could feel his half- erection against my abdomen. I tentatively caressed his cock with one hand, unsure if I was allowed to touch him or not, if it was allowed. I just had to. I hadn't had an opportunity to touch him yet.

He moaned deep in his throat, thrilling me, as he grew harder in my hand. I reached behind me, grabbing the soap and lathered up his cock, gently pulling back his foreskin and washing his balls. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh as I dropped the soap and angled the showerhead to rinse him off, watching the suds run down his shaft. (He really does have a magnificent cock, the perfect balance of thickness and length. I am not a connoisseur by any means, but I would say his is one of the few perfect cocks in the world.)

I sank to my knees, glancing up at him for approval and he smiled, nodding his consent. I stroked him gently before grabbing the base tightly and teasing the head with my tongue, tasting the little drop of milky white fluid that seeped out. He grunted, putting his hands on the back of my head and pushing. I placed a hand on his thigh to brace myself and took him in my mouth, sucking at him earnestly, worshipping him, my head bobbing up and down. I danced my tongue along the underside of his cock towards his balls, kissing and tonguing and sucking them. I relaxed my throat, sucking him back until his pubic hair tickled my nose before pulling back, my teeth lightly scraping his length. He began to move his hips, fucking my mouth and I felt him swell a little. I sucked him all the way back again and moaned as I felt him tense up. I was getting really turned on again, and I could feel the stickiness running down my thighs in spite of the constant flow of water from the shower. He gave a sort of hoarse bark as he came in my mouth, tasting slightly salty and slightly tangy, almost like pickle brine. I swallowed quickly, almost greedily, and licked his slowly shrinking cock lightly.

Malcolm grabbed my hands and pulled me up. He put his hands on my cheeks and held me there for what seemed like a really long time, just looking at me while the shower hit my back. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, and -- to be honest -- I was afraid to speak. He eventually ran his thumb along my lower lip and climbed out of the shower.

"Take your time," he said over his shoulder as he toweled off. "We'll go to dinner when you are out and ready." He left the bathroom, the door clicking closed behind him, and I slid down the wall he had just been leaning against, my legs giving out. I rested for a moment, allowing this weird feeling of weakness to subside, before standing myself back up and finishing my shower, taking my time and cleaning up as much as possible.

By the time I turned off the taps and climbed out, the mirror was completely fogged. I toweled myself off briskly and wiped the mirror with my hands, clearing a patch. I looked closely -- my mouth was a little puffy and there were red marks on my wrist and the underside of my breasts. It gave me a thrill to see -- my stomach lurched as if I were on a roller coaster -- and I smirked at my own folly, wrapping the towel around myself and opening the bathroom door. Malcolm had laid out my dress, flip-flops and clean panties for me before going to the sitting room area. I could hear the BBC World News theme and I smiled, slipping on my clothes and running a comb through my hair. I went back in to the bathroom, hanging the towel over the door and looking in the mirror again. I grabbed a hair boingie and pulled my hair back, looping it through in a sort of floppy bun.

I went in to the sitting room and Malcolm stood. "Shall we?" he said, holding open the door for me.

We made our way to the little bistro across the street and had a light dinner, making only the most casual conversation. I had a million questions and a billion feelings running around my brain, but I was hesitant to bring anything up. We finished our dinner and Malcolm suggested we go for a walk, as there were things we needed to discuss. (I know this is weird, but I remember -- very clearly -- the look on his face when he said that. He looked like he had tasted something bitter. Funny how odd things stick so clearly in our brains, huh?)

We walked in the waning light for an hour or two. Malcolm took my hand, remaining silent at first. I didn't push him, knowing he would speak when ready, just enjoying being with him. I realize it sounds ridiculous and you will likely roll your eyes, but I felt free with Malcolm (still do!), like I didn't have to entertain or entice or put on any kind of act. I could just be. At the time, it was new, and I was enthralled by it.

He started talking, telling me about how he came to realize he had certain sexual appetites that were not quite for everyone. He spoke quite candidly about trying to ignore it, and the problems that created. He talked about his introduction to the lifestyle and some of the experiences he had learning his place in it. At the time I didn't know what that meant -- I really didn't -- and I interrupted his narrative to ask him. "BDSM," he said, looking at me closely.

"It's a lifestyle?" I asked, feeling a bit wary. It had never occurred to me that my entire life would change.

"Well, yes, it is." We walked in silence for a moment as I brooded on that. "It doesn't have to affect your whole life, Melody."

"No?"

"Not at all," he said, putting his arm around me and pulling me to him. He explained different levels of involvement -- from people who lived as Master and slave to those who had occasional D/s play sessions -- and where he fell in the spectrum. He was not interested in a slave, he said. He wanted someone who would be his equal outside the bedroom, someone who would challenge him and intrigue him, but who could give herself to his complete control sexually. I was listening to him, feeling myself getting wet again, wanting him again, and I didn't realize he had asked me a question.

"Melody?" he said, giving me a slight squeeze?

"Hmmm?"

"I asked if you had any previous experiences?"

"Oh! Sorry. I was just thinking."

"Oh?" He pushed me against a wall and slid his hand under my dress, pressing directly on my clit through my underwear. "I can guess what you were thinking about." He tugged my panties to the side and slid his finger between my lips, stroking my clit.

"Please," I whispered, looking around. "Someone might see."

"And?"

"And...Well...I just..." I was having a hard time formulating reason at that point, as my hips were rocking in a counter-rhythm to his stroking and I was getting lost in how good it felt. It's not like I'd never been petted, or fingered, or whatever, really. But with Malcolm it was...different. Better. With him, it was always at his whim, but it was as if he was inside me, and knew exactly what I wanted before I knew I wanted it. (And yes, it's still like that.)

"You want me to stop?" he asked with a very devilish smirk. I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. "No.... You like the way I tease your cunt?" I nodded, closing my eyes and biting my lip. He was tapping on my clit, some erotic Morse code message my body was able to decipher.

My brain was temporarily MIA.

"Tell me."

"I like the way...you touch me," I whispered.

"Not good enough," he said, stilling his fingers. I was close, just on the verge of orgasm, when he stopped. My eyes opened and looked in to his. He knew.

"I like the way you tease my cunt," I said.

"Yes," he sighed, his fingers resuming their teasing, tapping dance on my clit. I grabbed his elbows and started to cry out, but he swallowed my sounds with his mouth. He pressed me up against the wall firmly, making me completely immobile as he stopped tapping and pinched my clit. I had no option but to surrender completely to what he was doing, my body rigid as I came again.

I could feel him straightening out my panties as I slowly came down, panting and shuddering where I stood. He removed his hand, breaking the kiss and taking a step back to allow my dress to fall back over my legs. I was still leaning against the wall, my hands still on his elbows. I very clearly remember the way he took his fingers -- visibly wet even in the fading light -- and licked them, his eyes on mine. It was so sexy, I still get wet when I think about it.

"Malcolm..." I began, but he shut me up with an all-too-brief kiss.

"Take your time," he murmured, pulling me away from the wall and putting his arm back around my shoulders. We walked in silence for a bit again, me catching my breath and quieting the tremors in my thighs and abdomen.

"What was the question again?" I asked at last.

He threw his head back and laughed, making me laugh with him. "Have you had any previous BDSM relationships?" he repeated once he settled down.

"Oh, right. Hmmm...." I thought for a bit. "Not really. I had a boyfriend in college -- Kevin - that tied me up once."

"Did you like it?"

I thought for a minute, remembering. "Yes, I loved it," I said, my voice sounding far away. I hadn't thought of that -- of Kevin -- for years.