Letting Me In

'Please sir,' you begin in a voice barely more than a husky whisper. 'Please spank me.'

'Where should I spank you?'

'On my arse, sir.'

'And how hard should I spank you?'

'Very hard, sir,' you say, giving in to the inevitable.

'Very well then. But I don't think you can take too much, so I'm only going to spank you ten times. But since you've asked for it, what should a good girl like you say each time?'

'I should thank you, sir.'

'Good. Make sure you do. I'll count the time I've already spanked you as the first, so here comes the next one.'

I raise my hand once more, feeling my cock getting even harder at the delicious prospect, and I bring my hand down again on the toned, firm skin of your arse. This time you knew it was coming, so the noise you make is considerably less than before, but even so you cannot restrain yourself from squealing at me. But quickly you recollect yourself and remember your duty.

'Thank you, sir.' you say.

I deliver another blow, this time on the other cheek. The angle is less favourable to me, so it is a little softer than before. This time there is no scream and your thanks comes more quickly.

I am determined to make amends for my lenience, so I shift my position slightly and hit you once again with considerable force. I get the impact just right so the slap reverberates around the room and your whole body rocks at the force. Your volume grows, but it is less of a scream and more of an involuntary wail as you reveal to me just how turned on you are at being mistreated in this way. You manage to mumble your thanks and then I hear you holding your breath for the next time.

After my fifth strike I do not continue immediately, but use my hand to draw your legs apart. As a result, your arse lowers and presents me with slightly less of an upturned target, but I am able to slide my hand between your thighs. What I find there surprises even me. Your juices are actually dripping from your sex and I can see them dampening the bedclothes beneath you. Leaving the vibrator to do its work inside you, I stroke your clit, bringing a desperate moan from your mouth as you implore me wordlessly to put you out of your misery.

But of course, I am only half way there. I remove my hand, let it hover for a few seconds while you anticipate the pain, then bring it down as hard as before, back on the original buttock. I notice by now that my hand print is starting to stand out on your pale skin and I determine to keep hitting the same spot so I can add a perfect decoration to your appearance.

I spank you once more in the same place before turning my attention to the other cheek, bringing out a matching hand-print there too. Each time you thank me as well as you can in your anguished state, but after I have landed nine blows you are on the edge of collapse, both mentally and physically. You are making an almost continuous noise which defies description, but in its notes I detect not only pain and pleasure, but also impotent rage against your own treacherous body, which is betraying you by being so turned on at such unfair treatment at my hands.

With my left hand I reach for the nipple clamps and take them off one by one. Each time you draw breath sharply as the blood rushes back to your sensitive buds and the pain of removal is greater than that of wearing them. Meanwhile, with my right hand I reach into your sex once more and stroke your clit a little more vigorously this time until your whole body has tensed up and your back is arched like a cat's. Only then do I switch the vibrator once again to its highest setting before withdrawing my hand and bringing down my final blow on your arse with all the strength I can muster.

'Come for me.' I say.

To say that what follows is explosive would be an understatement in the extreme. You jerk forwards and gasp repeatedly as the orgasm crashes over you, involuntarily uttering high-pitched squeals of fulfilment between breaths. Your muscles remain clenched for several seconds and only then do you begin to relax, gradually sinking back to your original position on your knees, with your head still buried in the bedclothes.

I allow you to experience your climax to the full, before switching off the vibrator and pulling it, sopping wet, from your pussy. But I am not planning to give you any real respite. I keep you on your knees, move myself directly behind you and line up my cock for entry. The pleasure of observing your performance under my onslaught has prevented me from softening at all and I need no preparation whatsoever. As soon as I am in position, I penetrate your waiting pussy, sliding in easily until I am slotted inside you up to the hilt.

I promised you a fucking and I do not let you down. Some would regard what comes next as animalistic and impersonal, but I see it as the ultimate expression of my feelings for you. I grip you by the flanks, looking down at the incomparable vision of my red hand-prints marked on your arse, and use my leverage to begin thrusting into your perfectly-positioned body.

I know it won't take long and I am no longer holding back. I increase my vigour until I am slamming into you, my balls demanding to be emptied without further delay. Within seconds I am groaning my own pleasure for your ears and it takes hardly any more time before I am filling you up with my seed.

My cock takes complete control at this point and my muscles act of their own accord, ejecting spurt after spurt of my juices deep inside you. All my pent-up excitement at forcing you to strip, treating you as a slave, forcing you to suck me, spanking you at will and giving you the orgasm of your life are expressed in these few moments of almost unimaginable pleasure, as all I can think of is that I am a man and you are a woman and I want nothing else in this world other than you, right here, right now.

I am still gasping for breath a few seconds later when my cock has stopped convulsing as it expels its last few drops and I slip back onto my heels and slide out of you. But I am still firm. As my chest heaves I look down at my cock, glistening with your juices and my own, and I have one final, wicked thought. I allow you to slump to the bed and roll you onto your side. I shuffle around you until I am at your head, then I take the blindfold from you. I have gone past sparing you the indignity of looking me in the eyes.

I allow you a few seconds to blink as you adjust to the light, then I show you my still-erect cock. I see you taking in the evidence of our combined arousal on it, before I move it to your lips.

'Lick me clean,' I order, and you do so without delay.

Having come just seconds before, my nerve endings are much less responsive than they were previously to your blowjob, but this is more than made up for by the absolute dominance of what is happening at this point. I have owned you completely this evening and you have done my bidding at each stage. You have stripped for me, sucked my cock, endured my punishment, climaxed spectacularly for me and given me access to your body for my satisfaction. Now you will play the role of a slave girl to its full extent and finish the job by cleaning me afterwards.

You accept my cock in your mouth and I feel you sliding your nimble tongue around my shaft. I know that you can taste two things at this moment. One is the powerful, bitter flavour of my seed, the other is the pungent taste of your own excitement. I know it well from times I have spent pleasing you with my mouth, but making you taste yourself is a different feeling altogether. I know that stronger than both of these things is the flavour of humiliation and subjection to my will which I see in your eyes as you obediently remove all the traces of our encounter from my cock.

You signal that the task is complete with a final flourish of your tongue around my tip and I withdraw from your mouth. My cock finally begins to soften and I collapse beside you on the bed. We lie for several minutes in absolute silence as we both recover our breath completely. Even then there is nothing to say which can match what we have done together.

But when I look in your direction I notice a tear or two coming from your eyes. With concern I roll towards you and take you in my arms, fearful that I have misread all the signals and pushed you too far.

'Was I too rough for you?' I ask.

You reply with difficulty as you stifle a sob. 'No, nothing like that. The crying isn't bad. They're good tears. It's just that it was something else. You showed me something. I can't really explain. It was intense. That's all I can say.'

I pull you close and hug you tight, understanding as much of what you mean as a man can at this point. I know that what we have done is far more than enjoying each other's bodies, though God knows we have done that enough. But we have also revealed something deep about ourselves to each other. You have let me into a secret part of you to which nobody else has ever been given access. I bask in the feeling of privilege and know that there is no turning back from this.