Afternoon Dom-light

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"Open your legs wider, girl," I commanded in a deep, rumbling voice. She did as I ordered, her body still trembling slightly. She stared up at me under hooded eyes, and I saw that despite the satisfaction of her orgasm, her need hadn't waned one bit.

My hands gripped her thighs, feeling that soft, supple, smooth skin under my fingers for the first time. My fingers dug into her pliant flesh. Jess gasped softly at the sweet pain of it, and I saw the lust pooling in her dark eyes only grow more fervent with the pain.

I wasted no time; I promised myself I would tease her, would toy with her, would draw her out and string her along soon enough, but now wasn't the time for that. My little interlude of making her play with her cunt had exhausted all the restraint I had. I pulled her thighs up, tilting her hips up toward the ceiling as I lean in. I pressed my face between her thighs and into the soft, smooth folds of her delicious cunt. My lips wrapped around her weeping slit and gave a firm, hungry suck, pulling her engorged lips into my mouth. I tasted her for the first time, her pussy already so wet and flooded that her juices filled my mouth. My tongue split the cleft of her cunt, sliding between her sticky petals and running firmly up the pink flesh between.

As my mouth worked her over, Jess gasped loudly, her eyes going wide as her back arched off the bed. "Oh fuck, oh shit! Masterrrr...that's...oh God that's so fucking good," she moaned and whimpered. Her voice was a deep, quivering purr of sensual satisfaction, her words dripping with as much lustful appreciation as her sex. My tongue found the warm, wet tunnel of her pussy and dove in, sliding up into her hole and swirling inside her to gather more of her honey. She tasted like sex, like a desperately horny sex slave wiggling and squirming just for me. I drank in her arousal, my tongue working inside her and driving her crazy. I stared up at her, letting her see the way my desire for her made my gray eyes flash darker than before.

When I'd finally tasted my fill, I ran my tongue up the length of her slit and finally attacked her clit. The stiff, aching pearl was sticking out from her hood, begging for attention. I happily obliged, gripping my slave's thighs hard as I took her swollen clit between my lips and sucked, roughly, as the flat of my tongue pressed to her sensitive nub, pushing against it, flicking and then circling across it.

Jess lost it. She screamed and her hips shimmied and worked, bucking and grinding her clit against my tongue as she gripped the sheets. Her pussy was hot and wet and trembling as I worked it over and I wouldn't relent, not even for a moment for her to catch up to the overload of sensations I inflicted upon her.

"Please, Master, please, please may I cum! Please!"

I nodded my head and growled an affirmative. Then I bit her clit. Not overly hard, but bite it I did, taking that hypersensitive nub between my teeth and nipping it, rolling it back and forth between my teeth as I watched her face blossom. For the briefest moment, alarm registered on her face, then the flare of pain. And finally, the pleasure, the release, the explosion of endorphins and sensations as pleasure and pain collided in her body, and instead of warring for control, they coalesced into something bigger, something greater and more powerful, and my slave screamed and screamed as her orgasm washed over her so powerfully she could do nothing but ride it out.

She lay there, gasping and shuddering, and I quickly tossed off the rest of my clothes. Jess hardly even noticed, too lost still in the afterglow of that powerful orgasm.

When I climbed atop her, pushed her thighs open wide, and speared my cock into her still clenching cunt, she noticed.

I gave her no warning, I simply took what was mine, burying my cock into the warm wet sheath of her cunt in one deep, hard thrust. Jess's eyes went wide and she screamed, her back arching hard as her breasts grazed against my chest. I held her hips and took the very briefest moment to savor that first penetration, the blissful feel of my cock enfolded in the warm, gripping, hungry core of my slave girl.

Then I was thrusting and bucking and fucking her as I took her, possessed her fully. I didn't give her time to adjust or prepare, I just claimed the flesh that I owned and used it for my pleasure. My cock pounded deep, plunging into her in long, punishing strides. My hips smacked into hers and I held her down and rutted into her welcoming body.

Jess was lost. She alternated between throaty, trembling moans and wild, keening screams. She'd warned me she was loud, and she wasn't exaggerating. Her screams and shrieks and passionate pleading served as a cadence to my thrusting, every wail ripped from those lovely rosy lips inflaming my lust. All the anticipation, all the waiting, the teasing, the possibility... I took every last moment of it out on her, powerfully driving my cock down into her upturned, yielding core.

"Master, please, please m-may I," my slave begged.

I granted her release through clenched teeth as I continued to drive my rigid cock deep into her milking cunt. Her internal muscles came alive around my shaft, gripping and flexing and pulsing deliciously as she screamed out her release, those big dark eyes wide and staring up at me with all the soft, indistinct edges of a perfect moment.

I was a man possessed, tireless and desperate as I'd never been, driven by the need to tear the woman below me down to her very foundation, to lay her bare so I could see all the pieces spread out before me before putting them back together again the way I wanted them. I'd desired this moment and run it through my head so many times, and in almost every scenario I'd been methodical, slow, deliberate, teasing her out bit by bit as we came together.

The reality was anything but. It was frantic, urgent, a heedless, careless crashing of lust on lust, not a bit of it careful or slow or any of the romanticized things we'd both envisioned.

The effect was, nonetheless, the same. As Jess came again, launching from one orgasm into the next, and then another until neither of us knew where one ended and the next began, crumble she did. She was unraveling underneath me; the intensity of the sex, the completion of finally being together, the unequivocal rush of being under my power and giving herself to my demands sent her spiraling.

The sex was deliciously carnal, intense and passionate. The physical sensations were toe curling, the kind of mindless, wicked fucking that leave the bottom of your foot cramping and you don't care because you can't... fucking... stop. After her first few orgasms, Jess stopped dripping, or even dribbling. She started gushing, hot sprays of girlcum splashing from her in waves as my cock drove deep down into her core, the head of my length catching that spot deep inside her over and again that made her erupt until we were both a sticky, slippery, delicious mess fucking and shifting atop the sodden hotel sheets.

But ultimately, impossibly, the overwhelming physical sensations paled behind the intensity of what we were exchanging on a deeper, more intimate level. Every moment of that was a claiming. My claiming her, my possessing her, my statement through flesh and fluid that I owned her and she was mine, and damn whatever obstacles and roadblocks life had thrown between us.

She felt it. She knew it. I saw it there, laid bare in those hauntingly beautiful eyes. She was my slave, and I was her Master. A simple truth, rooted into the core of both of us. It made every moment I was inside of her a deliverance.

That night, I fucked Jess longer than I've ever fucked anyone before, and longer than I've ever fucked her since. I don't know how long we spent entwined, my cock buried into one of her supple, willing holes as I bit her, scratched her, took her nipples between my teeth and pulled and stretched the hard red nubs until she sobbed and came all over again.

Hours. I had feared, before, that my anticipation of this joining, my utter need for my slave would undo me prematurely. Quite the opposite turned out to be true; once I started ravaging her, I seemed incapable of stopping.

By the time I flipped her onto her belly and plunged my cock deep into her already sore and well used ass one more time, thrusting and bucking and driving my cock deep into that hot, gripping tunnel as she sobbed beneath me, Jess's flesh was marred with my handiwork. Her tits were covered in teeth marks and bites and hickeys, and her thighs and hips bore the bruises of my gripping fingers. She was beneath me, sobbing, screaming, her face smeared with tears and saliva and pre-cum. She had her face buried into the bed, and I could still hear her screaming as she weakly but determinedly thrust her upturned ass back against me to take my cock up her hungry ass to the last inch.

Finally, it was all too much. I buried my cock into her clutching ass and my whole world came undone. My teeth found purchase on her soft skin just above her shoulder blade and I bit, hard, muffling my roar of release, of fulfillment, of victory into her silken flesh. In that hard, claiming bite, I wrung a last overwhelming orgasm out of her where she'd thought she had none left to give.

I've heard that women's orgasms are far more intense and expansive than men's. I don't know if that's true or not, but if it is, I think that I felt something akin to what it was like that night. After so much time working both of us through that intense, exhausting gauntlet of sex and sharing and intimate, heating joining, when I finally came it felt like I was being twisted inside out. My entire body went tense and rigid, my muscles locked and flexed so hard I thought I'd never relax again. Pleasure and sensation and sweet, blessed, final release exploded like a bomb through my entire being, and ground zero was my cock fully embedded in that delicious, milking ass.

"Yes, oh fuck yes...it's so good...oh God, I love you, and I hate you, I fucking hate you, Master..." the slave beneath me whimpered and sobbed, her words coming out in a tumbling hiccup that was barely intelligible as she gyrated her ass on my lap while my cum erupted into her, a gut wrenching quantity of seed spurting over and over in hot, gooey ropes to fill her willing bowels. It seemed to last forever, and I didn't know I could possibly hold so much.

When it was finally over, we both collapsed, she onto the disheveled, soggy sheets, and me atop her sweating, shaking body. I'd fucked her so hard and long, now that it was over, I realized my cock was intensely sore from it, still buried deep into her ass, and I didn't even have the energy to move to alleviate the discomfort.

It only took a few moments before the tears started. Jess began to shake beneath me, harder than before. She started to sob. Great big, gasping sobs that left her sputtering and hiccupping and struggling for breath as hot, glistening tears rolled down her flushed cheeks.

It was something we both should have discussed and figured out way ahead of time; what exactly she wanted me to do if and when she fell apart on me. But we were inexperienced, the both of us, so new and raw and learning. We engineered so much of our dynamic as we went along in our typical reckless, loving, instinctive fashion.

Instinct had gotten us this far, so I let it play out again. I gingerly pulled back until my wilting cock slipped from her ass, and took her into my arms. I wrapped her up tight in my embrace, snugging her to my chest, her face pressed to my shoulder and neck, and let her cry herself out. I didn't shush her, or rush her. I didn't discourage her tears or ask her what was wrong. I knew how intensely effected I was from the last few hours, and I was on the giving end. I could only imagine the overwhelming rush of feelings, emotions, sensations and experiences she'd just gone through as a new submissive.

Slowly, her crying began to fade and quiet. She was still shaking, but not as hard now, and those big, quivering sobs had slowed to sniffling and soft, tired little whimpers as she slowly came down and came back to herself.

"I don't hate you," she said at last, her words coming from between gasps for air. "I... love... you... Master."

"I know, my slave. I know. I love you, too."

I held her, and I told her she was a good girl, and I told her how beautiful she was to me, red faced and puffy eyed, with her lower lip trembling and her face shining with tears. In that moment, she was more beautiful than any other.

I told her she was my good slave, and that it was going to be okay.

And it was.

***

Authors Note (rantiness ensues): Firstly, I want to clarify that the titles 'Master' and 'slave' (particularly 'Master') do not indicate experience or competence in the above story, but simply, the relation and titles by which the parties involve relate to one another and identify. I understand some in the scene/lifestyle have strong feelings that those titles are attributed to a certain level of experience or aptitude in the scene and cannot be given to someone lacking experience. I acknowledge this view point, and respect it. I also respectfully do not agree; I am of the belief that one's position as a Master, or a slave, is more about the identification of oneself and also that of one's counterpart (which may be more, or less, important than your own identification, depending on your point of view). This is my view and my perspective of living, yours may very well vary, and that's ok.

P.S. On a more sober and totally unsexy note, and point out that the above situation is EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. Though exciting, and sexy, there are SO many risks and red flags in the above meeting that it's almost absurd. Many in the scene/lifestyle will tell you that the above situation was handled wrong on about every level possible, and the relationship is doomed to a tragic (and possibly abusive) end.

Except... this particular case just happens to be entirely true.

And all in all, we're both doing way, way better than 'okay'.

P.P.S. I apologize for the title. Once it popped into my head, I couldn't even begin to help myself.

Comments, questions, and critiques should be sent via the CONTACT tab on my profile.

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jhollanderjhollanderabout 10 years ago

I love this story, and even more so because it is true. Most of all, I appreciate your author not at the end! Hope to read more of your stories soon!

FA_JFFA_JFabout 10 years ago

All that caterwauling for hours in a hotel room and nobody pounded the walls or called the cops? Lol

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