tagBDSMBurning Desire

Burning Desire


I turn over, my legs tangling in the sheets which are now warm from my restless sleep. My eyes land on the pile of rope on the floor and I am instantly taken back to last night. My recollection is hazy, very hazy actually, but my stomach flips as I remember some merciless punishment is due to me today, cruelly my mind has not allowed me to forget that part.

Last night Sir had me on his bed and hung from his pulley on the ceiling, choking me while he took me. My neck still stings now but I can't deny that it wasn't worth this lasting discomfort. In fact just the look in his eyes alone, as I watched him in the mirror behind me, makes it worth while. I do so love that look.

He made it clear to me I was not allowed to cum, he even warned me as an orgasm began to brew inside me, yet I still failed him. I tried so hard to please him, I despise letting him down, yet I did so once again. I didn't need telling the outcome from my lack of willpower but Sir still made it quite clear last night that I would be punished for my disobedience. He's not here now, I'm not sure how long he has been awake but I'm grateful he let me continue to sleep, I really needed it.

I can hear him moving around downstairs. I want to see him, I always miss him when I awake alone. I slowly stand from the bed, my muscles aching deeply from last night and I can't help but smile as I once again remember the look on Sir's face while he fucked me. A familiar throb beats between my legs but I resist the urge to pursue it.

I pull the curtains open and push the window open. What a beautiful Sunday morning. I stand and take in the deep blue cloudless sky and inhale some of the fresh air blowing in. I look down to the road below, people are already wandering around, making the most of the pleasant day.

I move from the window and notice a note on top on a towel folded neatly on the chair. I unfold the note with a little apprehension as to what it might say.

"Good morning princess. I didn't wake you as you were sleeping so peacefully. Take a nice long bath then get dressed. It looks like it will be a beautiful day so we shall take a drive out somewhere for some lunch. I shall be waiting downstairs for you but there is no rush."

I was smiling after the first few words, a mixture of relief and fondness fluttered in my stomach. I looked down to see he had even chosen my favourite thick fluffy white towel. Over the back of the chair was one of his favourite dresses, perfect for today's weather. I smiled as I realised that there were no knickers there for me to wear.

The bath was hot, steamy and soothing. It eased every muscle in my body and gave me time to reflect on how happy I have felt recently. The way I have been able to submit to him so naturally and completely has filled a missing piece within me, while still allowing me to be the vanilla girl that all others see. He has given me the guidance needed to be able to please him like I crave. I know I do not always succeed in what he asks of me but I also know deep down that he likes it this way and that all of my failures happen because he has chosen they will happen. I know he understands how hard I work to please him and although I always feel frustrated when I do not succeed, I know it is because of the pleasure he derives from punishing me that he allows it to be this way, and if I am honest to myself I wouldn't want it to be any different. His punishments are sometimes cruel and painful but I always know that once I have endured them he holds me so close and all is forgotten.

I finish fixing my hair and pull the dress over my head carefully, not wanting to mess the neat bundle of hair on top of my head. I check myself in the mirror and pull just a few strands of hair loose allowing them to fall around my face. I check the clock on the bedside table, I have taken over an hour and a half to get ready but Sir did tell me to take my time.

I climb down the stairs, hearing the TV playing some Sunday morning programme in the living room. I push the door open gently, "Good morning Sir." I cannot help but smile as I see him.

He smiles too, a smile full of warmth and affection, "Good morning princess." He pats the seat next to him and I sit close, on the edge of the sofa, my body turned towards him. He takes my chin in his hand and I instinctively lean in to kiss him. "Did you enjoy your bath? I did wonder if you would ever come down, but then I did tell you not to rush."

"I did Sir, thank you. I needed the hot bath, I am still a little sore after yesterday." My hand instinctively moves to my neck and my fingers gently rub the feint marks from where my collar rubbed last night.

"I thought that would be the case," he lifts his hand to mine, moving my fingers away from my neck then replacing the spot with his own. He strokes my skin so gently, looking at the marks with pride and his eyes glaze over a little while his thoughts drift back to last night.

He stands up, taking my hand and pulling me into the hallway. He positions me in front of the large mirror, his body close behind mine. He places a cool hand on my forehead, tilting my head back an inch or two. "You look so pretty when you are marked, don't you think?" His touch is firm but not rough, the same could be said about his tone of voice. My legs feel a little unsteady as that dull deep ache between my thighs returns but I feel safe and supported with his body against mine. "Hmmmm? Do you not agree girl?"

I have learnt in the past not to make him ask a third time so I answer quickly. "I love my body to carry the marks you put there Sir, I feel proud each time I get a glimpse of them."

While I speak he tilts my head to the side and groans deeply into my neck. His lips gently kiss the subtle marks, "I love that only you and I know how they got there" his voice not much more than a whisper.

He stands up straight again, looking at me in the mirror in front of him. He moves me forward so I am just a few inches away from the mirror. "You look very pretty. I love this dress on you."

I smile gently at him, watching his eyes roam my face, thinking how perfect he is for being able to treat me so gently and lovingly when hours ago he was getting so much pleasure from my suffering. If I had to choose one of those two sides of his personality as my favourite I really don't think I could do it.

"Look at yourself in the mirror." His words, now stern, catch me off guard.

"Erm, pardon Sir?" confused by the sudden change in his manner.

His hands grip either side of my face, pointing it straight ahead, "I told you to look at yourself in the mirror, don't look at me." I do as he says, a confused expression clear on my face and a sudden dampening below caused by his rougher touch and abrupt words. His fingers cover my mouth firmly and he pulls his fingers across my lips, smearing my carefully applied lipstick across my cheek. I resist the urge to look up at his reflection, but my quickening breaths give away my slight panic.

He takes a step back from me and pulls the clips from my hair, throwing them on a cupboard behind him. His fingers move through my freshly washed hair and shake it free, leaving it looking nothing more than a tangled mess. He meets my eyes now, I can see he looks satisfied with himself, a smirk across his lips.

I look at myself in the mirror, wondering for a moment why I let him do this. I feel him pressed close behind me again, his fingers run through my hair and I feel them close tightly around it, tugging my head to the side. My eyes are closed now but I can feel his warm breath against my ear, "I won't touch your eye make up as I have a feeling your tears later will have the desired effect."

I don't need to ask, I realise now that we never were going to go out for the day. He wanted me to dress up for him so that he could do this to me, he took great pleasure from exercising his power by confusing me, he knew how effective mind games were with me and he often reminded me how I fell for these things every single time.

I blinked heavily and a single tear ran down my cheek leaving a thick grey line of mascara in its trail. I quickly lifted my hand to wipe the tear away wanting it gone before he could comment but he caught my arm effortlessly before I could try and grasp just a little of my dignity. I noticed he was smirking again, "Awww, tears already?" his voice was clearly mocking me. I could feel his erection pressing sharply into my back, any tears I cried that had been brought on by him always seemed to have this affect on him.

His hands rested on my shoulders and moved me a step backwards. They dropped down and rested on my hips for a long moment, squeezing me hard while he grinded his erection into my back. His hands moved up my sides then round to my front. He played with the top of the dress and slipped his fingers in around the neckline.

I saw the look on his face before I heard the noise but I knew just a split second before it happened that he was going to rip my dress open. I'm not sure why but I closed my eyes tightly as I heard the sound of the tear. He paused for a moment, looking at his handiwork in the mirror, then I felt his body tense again as he made one more tear and the dress was left hanging open from my shoulders.

I looked down at myself, I had loved this dress as much as he had, I felt tearful from his unexpected actions, I felt a mess. I didn't want to look in the mirror but right on cue he spoke, "Look at yourself slut." I wasn't often defiant but I shook my head and said nothing. I knew this whole thing was part of my planned punishment but I didn't want to take it, I wanted the day out that I had looked forward to less than half an hour ago.

He pushed me forward and pressed me hard into the mirror, turning my head to the side so he could see my startled eyes. He spoke calmly, "You're not helping yourself, do you know that?" I didn't answer, I had nothing to say. He waited for a moment, giving me opportunity to answer but when I didn't he responded by giving me a push towards the living room door, "Wait for me in there, and get those rags off."

I stood for a moment, feeling nervous and shaky. For a second I thought to myself how much I loved feeling so vulnerable and helpless towards this man, perhaps even more so when he was behaving like this. The thoughts disappeared as I heard him moving around in the kitchen and were replaced with curiosity.

He came into the room from the door behind me, I did not dare turn to face him. I could sense he was standing watching me. I resisted the urge to drop to his feet and plead with him to forget the punishment, I felt like I had suffered enough but I didn't want to make matters worse than they already are, he never did need much of an excuse to take things to what I felt was an extreme and I didn't feel like taking that risk today.

"Look in this bag slut." I paused for just a moment before turning and taking the bag from him. I peered inside, frowning a little.

"It's ginger?" I looked up to him, a confused expression on my face.

"What a clever girl." He patronisingly patted the top of my head, chuckling to himself. "And do you have any ideas what we could do with this?"

I frowned a little, "You cook with ginger?" I spoke slowly no idea where this was going.

He pointed behind me, "Get me the book." I moved to the bookcase, knowing exactly which book he wanted, I had been asked to get him this book before. It was a book of techniques for different punishments, all of the ones I had read or experienced were particularly nasty. I felt my stomach churn a little as I realised this afternoon was going to be a long one.

I held the book out to him but he shook his head. "There is a page with the corner marked down, open it at that page and read it to me."

I fumbled with the heavy book in my arms, finding the marked page then opening it slowly, unsure as to whether or not I wanted to see but knowing I had no choice.

I read the word "Figging" to myself but was still none the wiser so I began to read out loud, my voice quiet and shaky, the words being read slower the further I progressed as the realisation set in.

"Figging, anal play using ginger root. Figging most commonly refers to the act of inserting a piece of carved ginger root into the anus, causing an intense burning sensation and an increasing level of discomfort to the subject. Particularly effective during the delivery of a caning or alternative punishment as any tensing of the recipient's anus results in fresh ginger juices squeezed from the root."

I feel a sense of dread and excitement fills my body as I scan some of the pictures on the page. I hold the book out to him silently, not knowing what to say.

He puts the book away and comes slowly towards me, his head tilted to the side while he looks at me, amusement clear in his eyes. "Just so you know, this is going to hurt you, a lot actually, but it will do you no permanent damage, understand?" I nod a couple of times relieved by his words despite already knowing he would never want to harm me.

He grabs the bag and walks to the kitchen, "Come," I follow quickly behind him eager to get this started but knowing that very soon I will be wishing it was all over. He opens a drawer and pulls out a knife. "I want you to watch me do this because next time we do this you will be preparing it yourself."

He cuts a long length of the ginger from the hand and begins to remove the brown papery skin. "Turn the cold tap on." I do so and he moves the ginger underneath the gentle stream of water and begins to smooth the length and taper towards the end, leaving a plug on the end just like the ones I saw in the pictures. "I won't be using lube as that will prevent the juices from working so you will need to relax when I insert it." I feel myself blush a little as he talks so clinically.

He holds the "plug" up to check he is happy with it then runs the knife through it a few times, not cutting it, just slicing the surface. "I'm doing this so that the juices from the inside will creep out when it has been inside you a while, because like the book said, your tensing muscles will help squeeze the juice out of it, and these slits will help with that." He has an evil smile on his face the entire time, I can tell he knows I am going to really struggle with this.

I watch him place the plug down on the kitchen surface. He reaches for the remaining ginger and slices the side of one of the fingers. Again he removes the skin from the outside then instead of carving a plug he creates a flat oval disc, about half an inch thick, then once again slices a few slits throughout the length.

"And this one will be placed against your pussy, you will like this one," he laughs to himself, "well you will eventually." He walks out of the kitchen with the ginger in his hands and heads towards the stairs. "Let's get these inside you before they dry out".

I follow him up the stairs, the excitement disappears and is instantly replaced with a fresh wave of anxiety with each step I take.

"Lay faced down for me with this pillow under your hips." I climb onto the bed, what little resistance I had now gone. I feel defeated and frightened, not knowing how much this is going to hurt. He fastens my wrists and ankles to each corner of the bed, looser than he normally does, and I quickly realise this is so I am able to struggle more than he normally allows me, he really is planning on enjoying my suffering.

"Oh, and before we start, after about 5 minutes you will get a very intense desperation to cum, probably more intense that you have ever felt before, time will tell, but I don't think it would be right for me to allow you to, do you? After all, it is your naughty orgasm that has got us here in the first place."

"So, are we ready?" I put my face into the bed covers, finding just the question humiliating. I moan a muffled "yes" and brace myself.

"Ok, now remember to relax, breath deeply and putting this in will hurt much less. Either way it is going in so it's up to you if you want it to be easy or difficult."

He roughly pulls my cheeks open, I hear a quiet groan from his lips as he sees my glistening slit and tight hole. He presses the tip of the plug to my hole, turning it as he tries to manoeuvre it inside. I try so hard to breathe slowly but the plug still meets resistance. He gently rubs my back trying to sooth me. After a minute or so his touch helps me relax and he pushes again. I cry out as I feel myself stretch to take the ginger root then I notice I have closed around the end where he carved the plug to prevent the whole thing slipping inside me. I try and concentrate on my breathing again and decide that this doesn't feel quite so bad after all.

He rubs my back again, I groan contently, enjoying the warmth and his tender, considerate touch. "Well done princess, how does that feel?"

"Mmmm it's nice and warm, I like it." I feel dreamy and relaxed, like the warmth is hugging me tight.

"Ok, now lift your hips up for me, I'm going to place the second piece against you." I push my bottom up just a couple of inches and straight away I feel an increase in the heat as my cheeks squeeze the plug. "Now rest back down, you will feel it against your clit and I have slipped it in between your lips too. There is a length of rope underneath you, I'm going to fasten both pieces in place with it as I think it won't be long until you are wriggling a little. I am going to wash my hands now, I don't want the juices getting in either of our eyes. Don't go anywhere." I hear him laugh as he leaves the room but the main focus of my concentration is now on my ass.

The previous warmth is already an intense burning which feels like it is spreading slowly over my body. Surely it shouldn't feel this bad? I am trying so hard not to move as even the slightest movement sends a fresh wave of heat over me.

I hear him come back to the room, he places a small alarm clock on the bed above my head. "This will go off when your time is up. I don't think you noticed but I am filming you, I want to watch this back later while you suck me."

I don't even register about the camera, I lift my head to see the clock. "Fifteen minutes?! Please Sir, I can't last that long, this is horrible, please." I begin to struggle against my bonds but unsurprisingly to no avail.

"Now, now, don't complain, I can always change it to twenty minutes if you'd prefer?"

I drop my head in frustration and groan in self-pity. The piece of ginger underneath me has joined the first in burning me like hell. "I have to get out of this" I think to myself and try moving my body up and down in the hope that I will be able to move the second piece free. I soon give up on this idea as the friction forces more of the burning juices onto my most tender of places and my movements seemed to have milked some more free in the one in my ass.

Tears are running down my face now. Not just the odd tear, but lots. I know this isn't going to help me in the slightest, if anything it will only encourage him, but I can't help it. God it really hurts!

He walks over to me, all I want to do is scream, I scowl at him as he sits on the bed next to me, "Do you think it's a good idea to look at me that way while you are in this position?" He studies my face for a moment, "Oh, look at these pretty tears, you really are spoiling me today aren't you? And it is still going to get worse yet, dear, dear me."

I feel beads of sweat forming on my brow, my breathing has become fast and short. I hadn't notice him move but I realise he is now standing at the side of the bed with a riding crop in his hand. He tickles my back with it while he watches my predicament.

"Sir please take it out, I can't take it." He ignores my pleas and instead brings down the riding crop on my ass cheek. I cry out loudly, my body shaking every so often with my sobs. I notice a slight change in the sensations washing over my body. "I need to cum Sir, fuck, I really need to cum, help me, please." Once again he ignores me and the crop strikes my ass over and over again. He doesn't let up and for a moment I forget the over-whelming urge to orgasm and all I am aware of is the plug in my ass. Just like the book described my jolts from the crop has squeezed the plug tightly and a red hot fire once again courses through my body.

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