100 Centimetres - Experience 17

When I awoke the next day, I expected you to want to breed me again but you didn't. You were, if anything, distant. Your work days became long and tiresome. The days would just fade past without having ever whispered a word or two between us. I couldn't understand. Had something happened? I was too afraid to ask, your presence giving off the very indication that you were not to be disturbed.

Those days turned into weeks. The silence became more intense, more torturous, unbearable. I needed to please you, to serve you, to be used by you. I needed your cock inside of me, penetrating deeper with each thrust. That thought of you, my beloved Master taking me to the highest of highs occupied my thoughts day and night. I could think of nothing else. Daydreaming about you bending me over the couch or having your way with me in the shower.

But you didn't do any of that. No. You ignored me. You ignored my slight hints. Those hints that turned into completely obviously ones. Until I was left silently begging. Teased mercilessly with no end in sight. I couldn't concentrate. Constantly on the edge of bliss. A forbidden edge. One you just wouldn't permit me to step over. So close yet so far.

I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. My mind wasn't quiet. Had he become tired of me? Barely speaking to me at all. The fatigue and unrest started to show on my face. Dark circles became a near permanent fixture under my eyes. Eyes that had faded in colour. A mind that had become haunted by the absence of your touch and love.

That fateful day, I felt a terrible dread of knocking on your office door. The emotions of having to interrupt you when you were so clearly occupied with other matters, were suffocating. When you said to enter, my bottom lip started to tremble, my whole body shaking. You look up from your computer screen, a frustrated face quickly turned to a concerned one. My eyes meet yours for a brief moment and I quickly look away, feeling the tears building.

"What's wrong?" you ask. I opened my mouth to form the words but nothing came out. Instead, I just became a mess of tears and nerves. I sink to the floor, all the frustration and loneliness from the past few weeks finally taking their toll. My entire body shaking as I wept on your office floor. What a pitiful sight I must have been. Entirely out of control of my emotions.

I heard your foot steps come towards me. I feared you might have been annoyed with me and prepared myself to be scolded but I felt the warmth of your hands on my back. You knelt beside me, your hands rubbing my back, going up and down. At last I heard your voice, soothing me. Just gently shushing me over and over as if I was a child awoken from a nightmare. Protective and calming.

I didn't know how much time had past, my sobs, turned into soft whimpers, my breathing slowly returning back to normal. Strands of my hair were now dried to my face from my fallen tears. You help me to my feet before pulling me into the warmest, tightest hug I had ever known. Breathing in your familiar scent. For the longest time, you held me in your arms.

Eventually you lead me over to the bay window in your office, gesturing for me to sit down on the day bed. You leave the room and return with a pillow, feathered blanket and to my utter surprise, a stuffed teddy bear. Placing the pillow on the in-built seat under the bay window, you push me down to lay my head on it, my feet curling up to fit. The teddy is placed in my arms before the blanket is laid across my entire body. You kiss my forehead before whispering "Sleep, little one".

Through sleepy, teary, physically and emotionally exhausted eyes, I see my Master walk back behind his desk. Once seated, your eyes meet mine, reassuring me, never wavering as the darkness eventually claims me. My arms cuddling the bear, my fingers touching the softness of its fur, my face snuggled into the warmth of the blanket.

As I slept, I dreamt. Silly, innocent, fantasy ideas that could never exist in the reality we know. That's the thing about dreams, no matter how pleasant, no matter how real, we must eventually awaken. And reality can often be a shock, a disappointment or joy to contend with. When my eyes flutter open, I glimpse you watching me from across the room.

"Come here, little one" your voice commands me, washing away the remaining sleepiness, I raise from the day bed, a bit disoriented after my rest and make my way to my Master. I kneel at your feet, my eyes gazing straight down at the floor. After some time, I feel your hand under my chin, tilting my head upwards, my eyes meeting yours. "Now that you've slept, tell what is wrong" you say, your eyes peering deep into my soul.

After a deep breath in, I confess every emotion that had been bottled up. "You've been so busy work your work, you haven't noticed me. I feel like a painting on the wall. You stopped giving me tasks, you barely say a word to me, you don't tell me how you feel about me. You don't even use me anymore. It's hard waking up in the morning and feeling useless. I can't... I can't even smell your scent on me anymore."

For the longest moment, you stare into my eyes, your finger on your chin, thinking. It was agonising. I just needed you to say something, anything. Your face gave nothing away. Eventually your lips speak, just one word, a command "Stand." I quickly do as you ask, rising from the wooden floors at your feet. You take something out of your desk drawer and walk behind me.

You bind my hands behind my back, securing them with leather cuffs. Your eyes are dark and secretive. Circling me, like a hunter about to take his prey. The tension in the air was so thick, you could almost cut it with a knife. My eyes grow wide when I see you take the scissors from your desk. You make your way back to me, your demeanour towering over my delicate stature, my hardening nipples straining against my tank top.

I feel the icy bite of the cold steel against my sensitive skin. Every nerve ended was over stimulated by the situation I now found myself in. You use the scissors blade to make nicks in my shirt, never an entire cut across the fabric. One centimetre cuts quickly layered the material. I thought you had finished when I felt your hands across my arse, petting it ever so lightly. But no, the scissors quickly went to work on my cargo pants. Showered in tiny one centimetre incisions.

Moments later, you place the scissors back on your desk, admiring your work of art. My clothing in tatters and barely clinging to my trembling body. What happened next was a blur. Your large hands cupped my breasts, teasing my nipples and then you began to rip the material. There was no tenderness, no merciful actions, just sheer determination to rid your submissive of the clothes that shielded her body from you.

In an instant, I find myself completely naked, bent over your knee at your desk, your warm fingers caressing my arse. I feel your breath near my ear, a mere whisper "Count for me". A shiver of understanding travels through my body, tensing itself, anticipation for that first slap I would not just feel but hear across my arse cheeks. To this day my Master, the waiting is always more agonising than the punishment.

A crack echos in the room as your hand strikes my left arse cheek. The sudden, biting sting registering in my mind. Breaking through the fog and nearly forgetting that I was instructed to count. A remorseful "One" is uttered from my lips. Moments later came the second smack, I squirmed on your lap, fighting the urge to express the pain. Instead I manage a "Two". The third, fourth and fifth slaps come in rapid succession. I struggled to remember to count aloud as you delivered each one, adding a bit more redness to each cheek.

After seven, my counting was accompanied by tears. The stinging on my arse after such a long time with no punishment was distressing. There was no consistency between the last slap to the next one. Your hand sometimes resting on my arse cheeks, sometimes rubbing them, another time dipping between my arse cheeks to my pussy. I didn't know when the spanking would stop, I was at the mercy of Dominant as to when I had atoned for my erred thinking.

Twenty eight strikes to my arse. Twenty eight, the age of you submissive. Twenty eight years of not belonging, not being owned, never feeling protected. And here I am bent over my Masters knee, a teary face, sporting a stinging and bright red arse, and yet I had never felt more at peace with the world. This was right, a bringing of balance and alignment.

You pick me up from your lap, my unsteady legs barely able to keep me upright. I look at my feet, unable to meet your eyes. I feel your presence behind me, whispering that we are going for a walk my slut. With my bound arms you lead me out of your office and up the stairs, a slap on my arse every three steps along the way. My arse was sore and red, each additional slap adding to the rawness. You open the door to the spare room and surprise me when you lift me up onto the bed.

I go to sit down but you tell me not to move a muscle. I can hear you undress, observing you in my peripheral vision, biting my bottom lip. Lusting after your body. I feel the mattress dip next to me as you sit down. Now standing above you, you pull me down to straddle your lap, my hands behind my back, kissing me, your tongue dominating mine, biting my lower lip, before moving to that sweet spot below my ear. Sometimes I forget how well you know my body. The areas that make me moan, whimper and gush like the slut I am.

You motion for me to lift myself up so that you can put your now, steely cock inside of me. I can feel the tip that is soaked in precum, touch the outside of my swollen, ready pussy lips. Gasping loudly as you suddenly thrust up, driving yourself to the hilt into your slut. My legs become shaky, quivering as I sink down onto you, your cock the only thing holding me up.

Speared on your cock, my hands tightly bound behind my back. You lay back against the pillows, your hands behind your head, an amorous expression on your handsome face. My body could nothing but crave you. Longing to serve you, please you, appease you. Slowly, ever teasingly slowly, I begin to move my hips, swaying in a figure of eight motion. Your hardness in the depths of my saturated slit.

My heavy breasts thrust forward due to my bound hands, an unintentional showcase. But I wanted you to see me, my Master. Every centimetre of your sluts body. Your possession, your belonging, your submissive. Despite the heat of the night, my nipples are were pointed and hard. Looking down from my perch, my glazed over grey eyes meet your deeply dark ones. Like a pool of endless darkness, putting me deeper under your spell.

Soft moans and whimpers escape from your sluts soft, pink lips. My hips expedited, their movement swapping to an up and down movement on your cock. Almost losing your cock from inside my body until at the last inch, descending once more, the entire length driving into the deepest part inside of me. I see the rapture spread across your face. Your hands, running along my arms. Absolute determination in my mindset, the ultimate prize to make my Master cum.

But once again, you lure me into this false sense that I am actually in some kind of control. No, my Master, you had other ideas. Those hypnotic dark eyes you possess never giving anything away. In just mere moments, you are pushing me into doggy style, gripping my bound hands. You drive into my swollen cunt, taking my breath away. There is no teasing this time, no gentleness. It feels like you are splitting me into two, each thrust stabbing deeper into my core.

Each movement making obscene sounds, the slapping of your slamming into me, my loud moans are matched by your grunts. My mind is bewitched, your enchantment over me taking me to the world of bliss and magic. I belong to you, Sir. Every time you drive into my pussy, it tightens around you, craving for your cock to stay and inject it with your hot, divine cum. Impulsively, my submissive nature tells me to plead with you. Plead with your Master to grant you a trip to the realm of ecstasy.

Without out knowing, I start to beg you. Those words leaving my lips, a yearning, a need, a desire. I needed to cum with my owner. With his permission, my Dominant, my owner and Master. I am pleading repeatedly, so close to the forbidden edge. Please Master. You know. I know you know how much I need to share this with you, to ascend and cross the final threshold together.

Your hand spanks my already tender arse, the pain sending a raging fire to my hidden depths. Your thrusts become animalistic, pulling my hands down, my head is now pulled back towards your face. I can feel your sharp, forced breath on my neck, your hand on my throat. You grunt those magically words in my ear "Cum for me, my slut".

How does one describe an orgasm? To say my sense were overwhelmed is an underwhelming choice of words. A quake began in the depths of my pussy. Sending tremors and spasms of pleasurable energy throughout my entire being. My pussy clenching down on your cock, uncontrollably milking it as I feel that first spurt of delicious heat enter me. And as aware of these actions as I am, my thoughts drift on to another place.

A place where you feel weightless, like being in a cloud. Where desire and satisfaction course through your veins, not blood. A space that only my Master can take me. The highest of highs. Where my body completely relaxes bar the constant quivering of my pussy on my owners cock, drinking every precious drop of his seed. You collapse on top of me, your entire body weighing down mine. I hear you whisper quiet words to me. Reassuring me, praising me.

When at last, I start to descend from the planet of clouds, you quietly say to me that I always must speak to you when I am feeling down or need attention. That despite your awesome greatness, you can't read minds. Alright, you didn't say that last part but I smiled when I thought it. I thank you most ardently. My face pushed into the softness of the pillows, your softening cock still inside of me, connected as one.

Eventually you unfasten the binds that have held my hands captive for hours. The sheer, blinding pain of the blood rushing to my stiff joints after such a time, made my bottom lip quiver in pain. Your gentle fingers upon my skin, tenderly massaging the aching away. I crawl into your lap, my face buried into your chest, your protective arms wrapped around my naked body, pulling it against your flesh. My fingers caressing your chest hair, feeling the softness of each strand move between my fingers, listening to the sound of your heart.

For a time, we stayed like that. It could have been eternity or simply minutes but it was our moment, our time. You kiss my forehead before using your weight to push me down onto the bed. My head nestled into your chest, your hair tickling my nose. Our fingers entwined, your entire weight keeping your submissive captive. The heat emanating from your body ensuring I lose the battle with the world of dreams.

I drift off to sleep, my sleeping Masters body on top of me, your even breathing a perfect lullaby. Safe, loved and wanted.