tagBDSMA Dominant's Diary Nov 15 Pt. 01

A Dominant's Diary Nov 15 Pt. 01

byhard rider©

I called Susan earlier this week. She seemed down, not too unusual, she is bipolar and at times she becomes depressed. She takes her meds, at least the ones for depression, but the stresses and fatigue of her job in the psych department take their toll sometimes. She said she was glad I called, and that she wanted to see me. I told her I would come over Friday and spend the weekend with her.

Even though it was sex that brought us together, I liked Susan's company too. In the past year we have become good friends. I love her intellect; intelligence has always been a turn-on for me. I have found that intelligence goes hand in hand with a strong appetite for sex as well as an open minded acceptance of all it's variations. We both were aware of each other's shortcomings and we accepted them. We even lived together for about six months.

I drove out to her house. She lived in her parents old home. They were dairy farmers and even though the barns and such had run down she had remodeled the house and it was quite comfortable… and isolated. No one came to the door when I knocked so I went around back and found Susan hanging out clothes. It was warm for November. She had her back to me. She was barefooted wearing a flower print sun dress, her red hair looked beautiful blowing in the wind. The late afternoon sun was shining through the material of her dress in such a way that I could see her naked silhouette through it. She didn't hear me as I walked up behind her.

"Gosh, you scared me."

I smiled, "You should be scared, you might get abducted, tied up and ravished by some stranger."

"Is that a promise? I sure hope so."

"Don't you know it is too cold for going barefooted?"

Even though she was smiling, I could see she felt bad. Her face seemed weary and she wore no makeup. She picked up her clothes basket and headed toward the house in front of me and looked over her shoulder.

"You say that like you think you own me."

"I do."

I caught up to her and flipped up the back of her dress to expose her bare ass.

"See there, my initials branded on the top of your ass."

Susan hated to be depressed, she felt guilty about it, as though I wouldn't like her if she was. That was why she was flirting with me, but I knew her better than that.

"Oh well, maybe you do," she said sweetly.

We just talked and watched TV that night. I brought some food and cooked it for her. I sat beside her and fed her as we watched the Discovery Channel. I liked to feed her. It put her in the right frame of mind. It made her feel dependent, cared for and yet still at my mercy. Later when we went to bed I told her that I was going to fuck her before she went to sleep. I joked and called it my goodnight pussy.

"I knew your were. I expected you to," she answered in a low serious voice.

She seemed indifferent at first as I got on top of her and pushed the head of my cock against her pussy lips, but still very submissive. She wasn't wet at first but soon my cock made its way to it's full length inside of her. I could feel her pussy respond, becoming slick and hot. Susan is the most sexually responsive woman I have ever met and even in her current state of mind it wasn't long before her ankles were wrapped around me and her hips were bucking against me, grinding her clit against me, and soon moaning to her first orgasm.

I reached around her and rubbed the brand I placed on her ass nearly a year ago.

"You know you belong to me don't you."

"Hu huh. You know you are stuck with me now. No other man would want me with your brand on my ass."

Soon I came and we went to sleep.

The next morning I awoke with Susan's body up next to my back. I could feel her molded next to me, her tits mashed tightly to me and her legs following the outline of my own. I wondered if she was awake. Her breathing didn't sound like that of someone asleep and yet I could feel her breath, warm on my neck. Then I felt her arm around me, rubbing my chest and stomach. Sometime in the night she had gotten up and put her leather cuffs on her wrists. I could feel them against my own skin as she gradually rubbed further down approaching my cock. She found my cock already hard as she began to stroke it. She squeezed some pre-cum from the tip and smeared it around the head of my dick causing my own hips to move.

"I need you to whip me," she whispered. "Would you tie me up and beat me?"

I could tell she wasn't kidding. Susan had been trained to ask for what ever she needed. I would decide if she got it, but she was always to ask when she craved something. She told me that was why she wanted me to brand her. She said that I was the first man who was willing to hurt her, to physically hurt her the way she needed. I told you Susan was twisted. Whipping was foreplay to Susan, she could have an orgasm from it, it literally made her pussy drip. She loved to be whipped until she was crying and begging me to stop, but she didn't really want me to stop. She wanted to know she had no control over the situation, that she was at the my mercy. Before the day was over she would be another person, sexually obsessed, a nymphomaniac, insatiable in her desire to be used and to be punished. She would lose all self control and be dependent on me to control her.

I rolled over and got on top of her and easily slid my cock between her pussy lips. She had not only put cuffs on her wrists, but also her ankles and she wore her collar, the one with the heavy steel ring in it. I took her wrists and held them over her head as I fucked her.

"I see you are feeling better this morning."

"Yes, I will if you whip me."

"Why do you need to be whipped, do you have some confession to make?"

This was a little game we played.

"Yes, I am a dirty nasty whore. All I want to do is fuck. You know how I am. I want to be your slut, your whore, your slave. Make me your private slut, your cocksucking, cumslut. I need to be whipped. I need you to make me cry."

Just saying those words made her cum. Once she came I told her to get up and put on her slut shoes, high spike heeled pumps and thigh high stockings. Then I told her to put on her makeup, heavy with deep red lipstick, just the way a whore would and then come out to be punished.

When she returned I had already attached the spreader bar to the chains I hung from some eyebolts in the ceiling. She stood still as I hooked her wrists to the bar over her head. Her ass was tight, firm and round from the way the heels pushed it up. I liked the way she looked. Back when I first took possession of Susan I had her small nipple rings replaced and heavy steel rings put in them. I removed the tiny gold ring from her clit hood and replaced it with a much larger heavy gauge steel ring as well. Her pussy was now completely bald. Thus with her brand and the rings she looked like what she was, a painslut, sex slave of someone who was serious about his ownership of her. She knew she needed this, she knew how she was. She knew she needed extreme measures to make her faithful.

She had once been married for a short while but during a manic episode she was caught fucking around on her new husband. It ended badly. She was humiliated in court when her obsessive nature was disclosed. He wasn't strong enough she told me, he didn't understand what it took to make her faithful. That was why she said she had to have me. When Patty told her about me she knew I was what she was looking for. Someone older, with experience with "difficult" women. Someone not afraid to treat her the way she needed.

I picked up my jeans and slid my belt slowly from the loops. Susan looked at it fearfully. I stood behind her, my hand caressing her ass and between her legs and whispered, "Are you scared?"

"Yes. I need to be a little scared of you. It will make me a good girl."

"This is what will make you a good girl."

I stood back and with my belt doubled up, I began to whip her. I whipped her hard and fast with no let up. She began to dance and twist trying to avoid the blows. I took another spreader bar and clipped it to her ankles and then with a small piece of twine tied her clit ring to the bar between her ankles.

"Maybe that will make you stand still. If you move it will only pull the ring."

Then I began to whip her some more. I whipped her hard. Mean red welts were rising on her pale skin. She was crying and begging me to stop. I didn't. I knew from experience that I would have to whip her until the fight was out of her, until she just stood there and took it. I knew when I was through she would have black and blue stripes on her ass, back and thighs. I knew she would love me for it.

When I was through, she put her arms around me sobbing. I rubbed her ass and she began to hump my leg, grinding against it my thigh.

"Thank you, thank you so much for whipping me. Please fuck me now, please fuck me hard."

When I laid her on the bed and put my cock in her I was amazed at how wet she was, how easily it slid in compared to last night. It was only a few seconds before she had her first orgasm.

"Thank you for whipping me, thank you for fucking me so good," she said over and over.

I continued to fuck her. She must have cum three more times. Susan is so delightfully kinky that she inspires me to want to fuck her endlessly. I have never seen a woman like her. She says it is caused by her bipolar condition, but even when she is depressed she will become wet quickly when I make some sexual overture.

I was getting hot and sweaty and stopped thrusting, but kept my cock inside her.

"Do you like to whip me?"


"I noticed your cock gets hard when you do. I am so glad you like it too. I need you to be willing to hurt me. It fixes my head when you do. Did you know that?"

"Yes, I knew it seemed to help you get out of your funk and judging by how wet your pussy is I figured it was doing you good."

"Would you do it again, whip me again. Whip me and then fuck me some more."

I got up and pulled her to the edge of the bed and flipped her over on her stomach with her legs hanging off of the bed. Between the mattresses I kept a very expensive handmade paddle. It is made of laminated stiff black leather with a hand carved rosewood handle. It is wicked and precise. I stood between her legs and began to slap her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. I pushed her legs further apart and paddled the inside of her thighs, very close to her pussy. I could tell it was making her hot. She was grinding her pubis against the sheets. I kept doing it until she came.

"Please fuck me now. Fuck me hard. I need your cock in me so bad," she said frantically, desperately. The young woman who had only a few hours ago been depressed was now an insatiable nymphomaniac. And she was mine, mine to use in whatever way I chose, mine to be made a complete slave to my cock.

I swear I have never met a woman who could make me want to fuck her so much and who was as insatiable as she. She could take anything I dished out and ask for more. Sometimes in the middle of the night I would wake her and her legs would fall open ready for me to fuck her. She had never said no to me, never, she told me when we first met that she didn't like to suck cock. It made her gag she said. Now she would take my cock in her mouth at the drop of a hat and worship it skillfully. She used to say that she didn't like a man to put his fingers in her cunt. She said it made her feel violated (go figure!). But now when I am too hot to fuck or sometimes for my own amusement I will finger her, both her clit and her g-spot just to watch her writhe on the bed. It is especially effective when she it tied spread eagle and I force one orgasm after another on her.

We spent the rest of the day me fucking her and punishing her in various ways. We only stopped for a while to take a cool shower and to eat. Her sheets were soaked from my sweat and her juices.

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