Clear Instructions

There was more clinking and then she smelled his shaving soap, the spicy scent of the lather, and she suddenly realized what he was about to do. She heard the brush knocking against the side of the shaving mug several times, each little clink like a secret touch between her legs. She moaned softly. And then she felt him slide a plush towel under her, and heard him place a few things on the night stand.

When the bristles and foam kissed her, she went limp. It was ecstasy, the soft brush, the way it smoothed over everything and buried her pussy in a layer of soft lather. He circled the brush around again on her secret flesh.

"You were very obedient," he observed. "I don't think you shaved this cunt all week, did you?"

She shook her head.

"This is just how I wanted it," Thomas sighed, close enough to her that she could feel the heat of his breath on her thigh as he closely observed his handiwork. She wanted the brushing to go on forever. It was gorgeous, and she was relaxing into her bonds, relaxing into the pleasure.

And then the cold blade licked at her cunt, deftly whispering away the fine, dark hairs that had grown in the few days it had been since she'd trimmed. Her calm was wrenched from her and she began to whimper. Pleasurable tension suffused her groin even as she strained helplessly against her ties. It was as if she felt the blade on each individual hair, so sensitive was she to the touch of the cool steel against her lips. Her flesh seemed to rise to meet the blade, to welcome it, and she began to sweat in earnest thinking about the logistics of the blade in such a sensitive area. The blade was gentle now, but she knew from her own experience that it could be mean, it could bite, and as her uneasiness grew, so did her arousal.

And then the brush again, the maddeningly soft bristles lathering her, the unnecessary sweeping again over her labia, which she could feel parted and swollen and blushing between her widespread thighs. She moaned softly against the gag, breathing shallowly as the badger bristles teased her. She quivered, immobile and bound like a twisted gift, while the brush swept and circled and lathered and swept again.

As the foam lathered her, she felt her own juices begin to seep from between the fleshy folds, trickling down to the puckered entrance of her ass. She moaned again, low and long and desperate. When his knuckle grazed her sensitive clit, she cried deep in her throat, muffled by the gag but insistent. She heard a low chuckle and then felt a lighter touch, maddeningly lighter than before. She wanted that pressure back. She tried to make her mind go anywhere else, but all of

her focus was on her exposed and eager cunt.

Just when she felt she could no longer bear the sensation of the slick foam and the stroke of the brush, Thomas pressed a hot wash cloth between her legs and gently wiped away the foam, careful to wipe slowly so that the heat of the cloth added yet another layer of sensation. With the blade gone she writhed against his hand, trying to rub herself off against him and sate her craving. After letting her try and withdrawing his hand multiple times, he slid just the tip of

his thumb through her slick entrance.

"Christ, that's fucking wet," he murmured to himself. "What a beautifully wet cunt that is." His thumb slid deeper, and she clutched at it, desperate for penetration.

But just as quickly, he withdrew it. "You're very greedy all of the sudden. And what do we say about greedy little sluts?" He caressed her face, tipping her chin up as if he were looking into her eyes and not the blindfold. She made her face, her body, her entire demeanor the very picture of obedience and patience. But no use. "That's right," he mused, a darker tone creeping into his voice, "They have to learn to wait."

She sobbed behind her gag. Now he would really tease her, and who knew for how long. Her pussy pouted, needing the thumb back to suckle, or anything firm at this point. She thought about what items she would reject penetration from at this point and could not think of any that

would not ease her ache.

And then she heard Thomas rustling about and soon the sweet leather fingers of the flogger were caressing her face, tracing from her forehead to her cheek to her lips, across her other cheek and down the side of her neck. Across the hollow of her collarbone, down one arm. And then a little dull slap as the thin strips struck her nipple, startling her and arousing the stiff pink peak. He sighed deeply and slapped again and she arched her back to meet the kiss of the leather,

her nipple a pretty pebble under the flick of the straps. He drew it softly across to the other nipple and struck this one harder, one, two, three times in rapid succession, and it was like he'd struck her between the legs. She felt the shock deep in her womb and her pussy clutched at nothing. Her breath was coming faster now, she was pulling against her bindings, and he flicked it again on the opposite nipple. The left, the right, the left again, the right again, and then she heard the thwack against his hand but felt it between her legs, and Thomas chuckled as the sound made her body quiver.

She cried and moaned and willed him with her mind: Thomas, Sir, please, please, I'll do anything, but please...please...let me cum... He responded to her wasted wishes by stroking the leather down the insides of her thigh, feather-light, telling her how beautiful and soft her skin was and how he'd love his tongue to be there.

"Pretend that's my tongue," he said softly. "My tongue is tracing down your thigh, and I can smell your delicious pussy juices." The leather drew a lazy trail down her thigh and back up, drifting into the crease, where it lingered as she wriggled against it.

"You're spreading your thighs wider for me, wide enough to allow my face between them, and you want me there, you want me to lick you and suck you and eat you." The leather was moving again, and she spread her thighs as far apart as they would go. "You want me to make you cum with my mouth. You want my tongue in your hot, wet pussy when you climax so I can lick you clean." And then the leather bit where the razor had not, the little straps attacking her all at once. He flicked and they smacked at her cunt, then they softly caressed her moist, secret flesh. He flicked once more and a bolt of need ripped through her. He flicked again and she felt herself creeping to the edge, the torturous pleasure blooming in color behind the blindfold. She could think only of her proximity to gratification. She could taste it, she could see it, and she shook as he stopped striking and returned to dragging the flogger across her quivering flesh.

And then he stopped. Abruptly it was over, though her tender flesh still prickled where it had been lashed. He climbed on the bed next to her and she heard and felt him remove his silk boxers. They rustled quietly to the floor, and gently he removed her blindfold. He stroked her cheek and gently untied the gag.

The words tumbled out of her so quickly that she felt like she was babbling in some unintelligible language. She begged him to let her cum, pleaded for his tongue, his fingers, his cock, the handle of the flogger, anything to relieve her. He silenced her by pressing the head

of his cock against her bottom lip until she fell silent, nursing the tip for a moment and then swallowing his cock feverishly. She took him all the way, the head of his cock nudging the back of her throat, her hot, busy mouth working at him. He unbound her as she blew him, loosening her arms to free her hands and then unlacing her legs. She flexed them as she feasted on him, moaning from the sensation of pins and needles that flashed through her limbs and turned them to jelly as her busy mouth kept its ambitious pace.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, clutching her crown as she devoured his cock. A groan escaped him as she applied more pressure with her tongue, building exquisite suction, her hands clutching at his ass as she bore down on him with delightful enthusiasm. Her own

pleasure temporarily forgotten, she licked and sucked him until he clutched at her face and bade her to stop.

She knew it meant he was close, and she also knew he would see to her pleasure first. No matter how much he teased and tormented her, he was a gentleman in the end and always let her climax at least once before he did. She looked up at him obediently, her mouth swollen from

ministering to his cock.

"This look," he whispered. "That's what I love. What a good girl." He kissed her and

she yielded to him, sighing and sagging against him, her whole body simultaneously alight with need and exhausted from the tension.

"Sshhhh..." he crooned, cradling her head and stroking her hair for a moment, carrying her through the brief emotional meltdown that always followed being released from bondage. Then he spread her out on the bed and she kept still until he had her posed the way he liked her, her hair fanning out, her arms flung wide, and a pillow tucked under her hips. She felt herself dripping onto the pillow and her nipples, which had never relaxed attention, jutted up proudly from the relaxed swells of her creamy tits. Her thighs fell open, her cunt on vivid display. She

held still.

He was finally satisfied with the way she looked, and now he touched her, stroking her everywhere, looking into her eyes to watch her internal struggle. She bit her lip but remained still, and he laughed softly and crouched over her, his knees between her thighs but his hands on either side of her body.

"Do you need a proper fucking?" he asked in a conversational tone, as if he were offering her a glass of water.

"Yes!" she cried, her cheeks flushed. "Yes, Thomas, Sir, I need a proper fucking."

"With?" he looked at her expectantly, his hips close to hers, his cock nudging against the inside of her thigh, leaving a glistening trail of pre-cum where it touched.

"With your big, hard, beautiful cock," she whimpered, looking up at him through her lashes. "Sir."

"Do you need anything else?" he prompted. "First, before I fuck that hot little pussy of yours and make you scream my name, is there anything you want first?"

"Only..." she breathed, and then caught herself. "Oh, Sir, only whatever you want..." Inside she was silently willing his mouth on her cunt, the beautiful release she could get from his lips and tongue. But she dared not ask.

He pretended to give it some consideration while she pouted up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded with need. And without a word he began nibbling his way down her neck, tasting every hollow at her collarbone with his tongue before he dragged his mouth around the underside of her soft tit, closing over her sensitive nipple, suckling her until she shivered and then repeating it on the other side. She made little cooing noises in her throat as he trailed his mouth down, tasting her

navel and her taut tummy before pressing his face into his smooth masterpiece. She shuddered as he blew softly on her lips until they blossomed open, and then he lapped at each delicate inner lip, from the apex on up to the sensitive nub of her clit, delving his tongue in time and again to taste her nectar. He held her thighs open and buried his face in her, his tongue picking up rhythm as he licked and thrusted his tongue inside her and rubbed his nose against the hard bud, making her gasp.

"Oh, Thomas...Oh, Sir...that feels so good... Sir, I want to cum for you..." She was panting and clutching the sheets, bucking her hips into his face as he held her and devoured her sweet cunt.

She wailed as he slid a finger inside her, finding her g-spot easily and working his finger in tandem with his tongue, flicking at her clit and then closing around it and suckling it as he rubbed her inside.

"Oh, fuck...Oh, Sir...Yes! ..Right there! I'm... I'm...cumming..." She writhed and squealed unintelligibly and then grabbed his head and closed her thighs around him and sobbed as her climax wracked her. He carefully withdrew his finger and kissed her freshly shaven mound as

he slid back up her body. Her eyes were closed and she was panting and flushed, but when he slid easily into her she smiled weakly and wrapped her legs around him. He didn't wait for her to recover and it was merely a few thrusts before he whispered urgently, "Cum for me, Emma!" and she came again, pressing her mouth against his shoulder in a silent scream as he buried himself in her to the hilt and rode her through her spasms.

Then he pulled out of her and flipped her over with ease, drawing her hips up and diving into her from behind, his balls slapping against her as he pounded her. She moaned his name and he fucked her harder, twining his hand in her hair and holding it like reins as he rode her closer to his own orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum..." he huffed. "I'm gonna cum in this cunt of yours... Take it, Emma... Take it, you fucking slut!" She was meeting every stroke, her ass thrusting back at him, clutching the sheets and panting raggedly. He gripped her and held her hips tightly as he thrust a final time and exploded deep within her. She let out a quiet, grateful moan and milked him gently from the inside until he slipped out of her.

After a moment of rest he checked her all over as he usually did, making sure there were no marks on her skin, asking how this part and that part of her felt. "Taking inventory," he called it, which made her feel a bit like something for sale, a not altogether unpleasant notion. And then he kissed her and told her she was beautiful and fetched the sushi menu.

"Just to be clear, I intend to eat dinner off your naked body," he said matter-of-factly. She looked at him to see if he was kidding. He was not.

"Yes, Sir," she replied, looking up at him through her lashes.