Lying in bed, that lovely semi-dozing post-coital state, taste of cum in my mouth, my hair matted and damp from saliva. Nestled in arms that are stroking me softly. My mind ambles and gambols and twitters through various emotions and thoughts.
"You know you keep talking about breaking me? Do you mean that? Do you think you could?"
"Yes." Calm voice, not much thinking required before the response. Fingers still stroking me softly.
"But what do you mean when you say that? Do you mean making me do something, forcing me? Or do you mean making me want to do something, to please you?"
"I mean you wanting to please me." Calmly confident. No sense whatsoever of self doubt. "All it takes is time."
"Well, yes, you know I want to please you. But you mean, you reckon you can make me do something I really really hate the idea of?"
"Yes." The fingers continue their massage, sleep inducing and comforting. Background now, I'm ignoring them, as I'm feeling challenging. I don't believe you.
"Okay, well, let's think about the things I hate, and limits and so on. You know I hate gags, and hoods, and puppy play. I really hate puppy play. And I'm scared of piss play."
"But none of those things are hard limits, are they?"
"Well, no, they're not, and even the stuff I said was, like needles and cutting, they'd be okay now too. Dunno why. The one thing, the only thing, that really really freaks me out now, is ass-to-mouth. Cannot stand the thought of doing that. No matter how much you think you can make me do it. I mean, yes you could *make* me do it. But I really don't think you could make me want to do it, to please you."
I pull away from you slightly, and look at you. Fingers still stroking my arm and back. I don't believe you, but this damn implacable confidence is making me think. Is kind of slowing my brain down. I'm seeing images replayed in my head of all the ass-to-mouth porn I've watched in the past. It arouses me, and I like watching it. Mostly because it's the ultimate in Verboten! to me....and part of me wants to be able to do it. But such a huge sense of taboo and filth; to me it's the epitome of filth and degradation, humiliation and use. I also know you know this. And that though it may be something that doesn't overly appeal to you (I don't know), the power I've given you in allowing you to know this will make it appealing.
"Tell me why you hate puppy play so much."
I snort, and shuffle away from you a little. "Well it's just so silly. I feel humiliated doing it. Wagging my tail, and being on a lead, and led around on all fours. And begging."
I shudder slightly, remembering the last occasion. When I'd had to beg to be fucked. When you knew how horny and needy I was. How I needed your cock in me. When you'd taken that need, and used it. Made me beg, "Beg for it, slut. Like a doggy."
I'd mumbled, "Please fuck me, Master," not making eye contact, feeling terribly self conscious, knowing what you really wanted.
"Tut tut, that's not how a little puppy begs, now is it slut?" I'd struggled and struggled. You'd lain me over the fucking bench...fingered me, teased me, taunted me. Asked me again and again, the needier and more frustrated I became, "Are you ready to beg for me properly now?"
I wasn't. I couldn't. I wanted to. I wanted to be able to. I knew what you wanted. And I knew I couldn't do it. And I knew you wouldn't fuck me till I did.
For minute after minute, for teasing touch after teasing touch, I shook my head and groaned at you. Eyes shut tight, denying myself. Denying you. Denying you that control.
You outwait me. I struggle from the bench, murmuring to myself, "okay.... okay", eyes shut. Maneovering myself to my knees in front of you. Hands on my thighs. Litany in my head of "okay, I can do this..it's stupid, but I can do this". No, I can't. I won't. You wait. There are murmured words of encouragement, I am told I'm a good girl, a good puppy. About to give her Master what he wants. This shuts me down again. I sit back on my heels, I can't move. But I want to feel you accept me back in your arms again. And I want your cock inside me, pummelling me, claiming me.
Eventually, a couple of timeless minutes later, I am able to take a deep breath, kneel up, hands in front of me, curled over, and murmur, "please will you fuck me Master." Tears are in my eyes, and you push harder.
"Pant for me, puppy." My mouth opens, my tongue protrudes, I pant, while crying.
And that's it...I'm crying in your arms, telling you I hate you. And then you're fucking me, and holding me, and loving me. And I'm in something of a state of shock. I hate you. I hate you for making me do that. I hate you for making me do something I think is so stupid.
But I love you. You won. You made me. You made me want to. You removed choice. And not by force. You made me want to, even when I didn't want to. Most adamantly did not want to.
I shake my head and shudder a little, remembering. "I just hate it."
Your hand twines in my hair; "Well, I know what little puppies like. They like having bones to chew on. So here, little puppy, have a bone to chew on." My head is crudely thrust beneath the covers to your crotch, and rapidly swelling cock. I suck and lick.
This sudden assault.. I hate puppy play! But you are telling me what a good puppy I'm being, how I'm enjoying so much having a bone to chew on. And good puppies are rewarded. Your fingers are circling my cunt, teasing me. I'm wet. Your fingers are entering me. I'm a good puppy. I'm being rewarded. My cunt is gripping your fingers. You tell me to show you how happy a puppy I am. Wag my tail. I groan on your cock, but, damn it, I find myself wagging for you.
You repeat your command to wag, to keep wagging. Your fingers are fucking me. I'm a good puppy.
And then it's all twisted around. And there is a tone in your voice that illustrates this bloody calm self-assurance and implacableness....for you are telling me all about how one day, in your own time, I will do other things I hate. For you. When you wish them.
How I will enjoy having your cock buried to the hilt in my arse. How you will then withdraw. Place your cock in my mouth. Down my throat. I will taste myself on you. I will feel you cum down my throat. I will lick you clean.
And I will thank you for it afterwards.
And, to my consternation, I am dripping all over your fingers. And thrusting my cunt onto you, as I gag repeatedly on my lovely bone.
The moment evaporates, boiling lust dissipating slowly. There is no consummation on this occasion. Neither of us cum. There is just the point made, hanging in the air between us.
And then sealed between us, as you pull me up to lie alongside you. Pull the covers over both of us, kiss my forehead.
And stroke my arm and back again, gently and lovingly.
And I'm enclosed in your arms. And your words and intention. And your ability to make me. Do things. I don't like.