tagBDSMExcitement

Excitement

byarbenitre©

It's all she can think of right now. She can't grasp the thoughts of just a moment ago. Can't even get her mind back to a calmness that would allow them to flow into her from whatever ethereal place they dance away to when they are in a playful mood. She tries to set her mind firmly on the task of getting them back, but they slide off as though she were floating on a river of ice. There is too much keeping her from that kind of peace.

Her back arches again and she feels her control slipping away. "Please" is ripped from her lips. A pitiful plaint she wishes she could stuff back into her mouth.

Instead, it is his smooth hardness that pushes its way over her tongue. She has barely the wherewithall to grasp at it and open to take more. He's told her when he gives it, she's to take it - and she wants it. Oh, how she wants it. Her need is coupled with the fear of not doing what he's told her she must. It makes her gag and sputter, though without her trepidation she would take his cock with gusto and delight.

She gobbles at it, greedy as a cat after a long chase of its prey. It pounds its way between her lips and thumps the back of her throat again and again. She gasps and struggles to be ready for the next ramming, but it comes too fast and she can do little more than open for him and let it thump her. Just when she fears she can take no more, it stops and she collapses her neck, panting, face into the comforter. Weary, yet wanting.

Where he'd had a handful of her hair, he now strokes her scalp. He is saying something, but she can't hear. She is panting too loud. The only thing louder is her heartbeat and his voice is soothing as a breeze over scorched earth.

"I know you didn't hear me. Have you stopped listening?"

She casts wildly about for a clue to what he might have said, but there is none. She feels tears welling up, a response to impending punishment. Instead, his fingers are firm but gentle and his lips touch her head.

She has learned that his tone and touch are poor cues to his next actions, however, and she feels her heart race to leave her behind. She fleetingly thinks of begging it to stay, but it will do whatever he wants it to and she can do little more than watch as it jumps to his bidding. The pounding crescendos in her ears. She hears it and sees in his eyes that he feels its escape is near. He holds it beating in his hand and he stretches it out to show her the palpating mass torn from her chest.

Instead, his fingers stroke her behind the ear. "Can you hear me yet?" His voice is tender as new spring buds. "Poor baby. You've worked so hard. You deserve this. You know that don't you?" She can't swallow, but she finds she can nod her head. It bobs loose on a stalk too long for the weight at the top. She doesn't know if he means that she earned a punishment or reward. What she is going through could be either.

He coos at her. "You did deserve it. I need you to listen though." She nods again. Tries to show her alertness but finds herself bound in a fog of tremors. The cloth bindings are nothing to the stupor he's induced in her limbs. The turpor of her movements come from the uncertainty of him. The mystery of his needs and the unknown demands he will make of her next.

"Listen carefully because I want you to do well. I need to take you. I need to pound your wet little cunt and feel it come on my aching hard pole. Do you understand?"

She manages a nod. Tears sting at her eyes, but moisture runs down her thighs. He's going to torment her even more than he already has. She is at the end of her ability to keep control of any part of herself. Her legs start shaking violently. A combination of fatigue and fear and need take her over.

He waits patiently for it to pass. "You've done very well. I've made it easy for you. I've pulled away and kept you from orgasming to this point. I've kept you from displeasing me. If left to yourself, you would have cum no matter what I say. You would have been as bad as you have been good while I am here to help. Now you're going to have to do some of this yourself."

Outrage leaps in her. She's been holding her thoughts at bay for what feels like hours already. Every moment has been a struggle to push her thoughts onto some banal subject rather than let it drift into the torrent of thrill he's been dunking her into. She's been doing anything to keep the visceral sensations from the front of her mind. Keep any hint of carnal enjoyment from creeping into her soul and to somehow keep her head above the currents dragging at her entire being. Those that will drown her in ecstasy.

She's been hours pulling her own hair in an iron fist of denial. Now he claims to have made it easy! If she could swallow, she would protest. She would snatch her heart back from his hand and show him her suffering in no uncertain terms. She squirms in her bindings, but his hands smooth down her shoulders, reach around and pinch her nipples. One then the other. Her body leaps off the bed. The pain is unimaginably sharp and the throb in her clit overwhelming.

His voice sounds so reasonable when he speaks. "I know you've been working hard. I do appreciate that. You've got a long way to go, though, to please me. You'll have to work even harder to do what I need."

His hands are soothing on her shoulders and neck, they dance over her aching muscles. She sighs in spite of herself. A long deep sigh that shakes her chest and empties her will.

"You are not to cum until I say so. That orgasm is mine and I want it. When I tell you to, though, I want it all. I want your pussy grabbing, squeezing, sucking and yanking my hard cock dry. If you cum before I tell you, I will shove my rock hard pole through your ass, pull out and shoot everything I have all over it, whip it raw, then leave you needy and unfulfilled." He pauses to emphasize his point. "I want to make sure you understand this because I will not give you a second chance and I want to fuck your dripping pussy. I will be angry leaving here without that."

He pauses a long breath. "And there will be a punishment severe enough that it will never happen again." Another breath. More of a heated panting, followed by his quiet murmur. "Do you understand?"

She tries to talk, but feels herself dry up all the way through her throat. She tries to nod, but her muscles won't obey.

He bends and kisses her lips. Nibbles them. He softly and sweetly pulls them one at a time into his mouth and chews them. Her moans come. They bubble up inside her and slip out into the night. She tries to hold them back, still arrogant at his claim that she hasn't been suffering. That he's done most of the work. That she could have done more to keep herself from exploding into unreason. Or possibly a million pieces. It rankles her that he brushes her aside so easily. That he thinks so little of her suffering. It frightens her too that he has more in store for her. Her legs and arms shake again. A shivering that shoves moans out the lips he holds between his.

His kisses lead her body on. Take her physical self away from her thoughts and beliefs. He owns her and parades his mastery for her now. His lips hold inches from hers and her neck rises from the bed as though drawn by a magnet more powerful than her ability to resist gravity. His fingers draw lightly across her back and she melts. The bedcover sucks her in and she bizarrely thinks she will slip right through the restraints he has placed on her. The ties that hold her ankles together, her knees tight and her arms spread wide. His fingers will melt her and she will be free to resist him if she wants.

She won't though. She wants him. She needs him to take her. She's needed it her entire life and never knew. When his hard cock pushes in her next, threatening to rip her apart, she'll writhe again. Not because she doesn't want it. Because she can do nothing else. Because he likes it when she struggles. When she squirms and wriggles. He likes it when she can take no more. When she begs him to stop while at the same time, he well knows that she couldn't bear it if he does.

She will melt and remain bound. His fingers move down her back, relaxing her muscles, turning her body into a liquid pool. The comforter has become so thoroughly soaked with her juices that the room is humid.

She lets a sigh slide from her throat and he punctuates it by grabbing a handful of hair, lifting her head and cramming his pole in to the back of her mouth. He groans, releasing an answering flood of gushing fluids from her groin and suddenly he's fucking her mouth. Slamming in and out in a blatant reminder of the promised climax of her torment. She feels herself build toward orgasm and finds she can't stop it. She writhes and bucks, trying to tell him what's happening to her. How he has to stop so she won't come, but unintelligible sounds mumble out.

She needs him to fuck her, to take care of her. She's desperate and struggling wildly. She's panicked and making noises around his relentless tool, but it feels too late. Her struggles make him harder and bigger and he is pounding her mouth more ferociously than ever and she is slipping quickly over the slender edge of orgasm.

She loses control just as he stops. She can't tell if she comes or not because it all goes numb below her breasts. His palms stroke her face and he is saying something she cannot focus on. It's something important but she can't catch hold of her breath. Or a thought. Or feeling.

He reaches back. Out of her range of her vision. Her face is buried in the comforter and she is unable to lift her head even an inch. Until the sharp pain hits her buttock. And another. And another. Her head raises all on its own now.

On the next blow, the shock has worn off and she cries out. She forces herself to lie still, but the shaking commands a raging battle within her. Tears spring to her eyes and she whispers "Please".

He takes her face in his hands, kisses her forehead, her nose, her brow, finally her lips. "You nearly disobeyed me." His voice is soft but firm.

"You are not to come until I say so and when I tell you to, you had better break loose. Do you understand?"

She nods eagerly. She wants him to know she heard him and will do as he says. She doesn't want more of the spanking. She wants him. At the same time she wants to please him. She wants to be who he needs. She wants to be strong and do whatever he wants her to.

He kisses her face and it burns where his lips touch. She wants to reach up and feel where the heat is, but her hands are tied. Stretched out and held to the head and foot of the bed.

Her shoulders ache from the strain of her struggles and as they slump, he massages them.

"Don't give in yet. His voice coaxes strength from her quivering muscles. I want you tough and needing more. I want to ram my hard cock in you until you can't take it, until you beg me to stop and you're thrilled when I don't. I'm going to fuck you so hard and deep and fast and long that you'll think you've torn open and when I let you come on me, your cunt will feel like hundreds of muscles all along my hard pole. That's what I like. That's what I want from you."

His words are so menacing but the tone so sweet, she gasps and feels a torrent of wet gush from her. It pours out over her thighs and pools under her abdomen. Her ass is pushed high in the air by the pillows underneath her hips and her aching pussy exposed to the thinnest breath of cool breeze. She feels a slicing hint of chill as the fluids slip out her pouting lips, pool along her thighs tied tightly together and leak down onto the saturated bedclothes.

"Oh," she groans. "Oh. Please. Please take me."

And she means it. Gives herself then. All of her. Everything she ever was or could be. Where his hands hold her pulsing heart, where he'd ripped it from her open chest, she offers the rest of her poor and aching self. Body and soul placed there next to her heart.

His fingers tease their way down her spine as he slips his hard length into her mouth. It has grown. Impossibly. Since it last ravaged her throat. Now it slides in slowly. Half way, then out. Half in, then out. A hypnotic rhythm. Made more entrancing by his hands pressing, pulling. Pressing, pulling. Thumbs digging into bared muscle. Pressing, pulling. Digging.

The shivers drain from her limbs. A glowing kind of fatigue settles in its stead. She can feel the lightness of her body and his palms moving in delicious circles. Her mind tries to drift off to twilight, but there is an edge to her bliss that tethers her to a kind of hyperawareness. A keen flame waiting a spark or coal seeking a puff of air.

She is twinned. The one side of her that is but his merest whim from a piercing orgasm. His cock slipping in and out of her mouth, slow and easy. A budding tempo that can take her over and send her crashing out from the edge at any moment. Or the delicate flower being pressed. Massaged carefully to sleep within a tome of comfort. Only to later wake ravenous and desperate.

She could be either of these right now and knows both. More, though, she knows that she is both observer and haver. She is his, body and soul, but his control of her body is so complete it has split her. He will take her soul or not, she neither knows nor cares, but he holds her corpse. He carries it within the palm of his hand.

His fingers have leisured down her back, his cock still slipping in and out of her mouth in a trance like rhythm, easy and slow. It speeds up just a bit as his digits near the base of her vertebrae and he leans forward slightly. Her breath comes out in sigh after sigh, pressed out of her by his magic hands.

She thinks it could almost be the wind she hears. Not howling, but easing around corners and smoothing down alleys. A light blowing that makes life fresh and green. Her sighs are subtle and light. More than breath. Just as her arousal has become more than life.

She could doze if she didn't have this monster coiled within her. The bindings are no longer tight and keeping her. They'd slipped into familiarity. Her friends, now, they just hold her for him and she is grateful.

His fingers reach and dig into her ass. They feel so good. Something she's been needing for a long time. They squeeze and separate the cheeks. Mold her globes. She falls another level deeper.

When his fingers stretch out and begin toying with her swollen sex, she moans without thinking and pooches her bottom up for more. It feels so perfectly natural. The pads pinching the labia, sliding along the silken folds.

His digits skip and play in the wetness and she feels the pressure building within her chest. His hardness is throbbing in her mouth and it's suddenly pistoning in and out. Banging on the roof and nudging into her throat. The sensations tear at her as his fingers open her wide, releasing a flood. They prod at her, stretch, poke and threaten to pierce her being.

Her arms tremor and a shiver begins from deep inside. The need welling up inside bubbles and is bursting into flower when the sharp sting of his belt hits her ass. She feels it go beet red and has only time to wonder how it can be so sensitive when it feels another slashing. She's being cut open by the leather, her moans turn to screams.

Her bindings are viciously tight. No longer friendly nor welcome. She writhes and bucks, but they get tighter and meaner. His cock is no longer between her lips, though she doesn't remember it leaving.

His nose touches hers and his voice is soft. "Why will you insist on disobeying me? I don't feel that I should have to help you this much. Do you? Do you think it's fair that you are here to please me, but I have to work so hard to help you to be good?"

His words are low, the tone is kind, but he stings her as fully as the belt. She knows the taste will linger just as long. The burning on her ass will remain when dawn breaks and her release comes, but the cut from his words will last even longer.

She wants to please him, he just makes it so hard. She realizes she can't do it without his help and tries to open her mouth to tell him. His hands are stroking the sides of her face as she fish breathes, and of all the things in her mind to say, she mouths only "Please."

"I want you to do well. I need it." His tone still sweet and pleasantly conversational, though hushed and deliberate. "I need to fuck you hard. I'm aching to slam my hard cock into that tight, wet little pussy and pound it until you can't take anymore."

She moans in answer. An agony yanked from her depths.

"Oh yes, I need it. I won't stop when you beg me, though. Oh, no. I'm going to keep ramming that pole into you. Banging on the end of your cunt. I'm going to keep fucking you after you scream for me to stop. Your begging will only make me harder and needier. You already know this."

She manages a nod. She knows this very well. A thrill shoots through her at the thought. She loves the way he gets so excited by her torment that he loses control.

The sensations do get too much for her, but she loves that he takes her beyond this. She needs help to get past her boundaries, just as he's told her. Over and over. She knows the truth of his words. Knows how much he gives even as he demands everything from her in return. She needs his help.

He's released her face. Scared, afraid more that she has displeased him than of his punishment, she babbles.

"Please. I'm trying. I'll do better. Please let me. I'll do better."

"I sincerely hope you do." He says sternly from somewhere behind her.

Her ass feels his hand. She finds it nothing to the sting of the belt, but it gives a warmth that suffuses her skin. She thinks how bright and shiny red it must be by now, just before his cock stretches her beyond reason.

It drives into her. She wonders how it grew so large, or her aching pussy so tiny. He's tearing her apart as he pummels her. She can't move or scream. She just jerks her body with each blow as sounds are forced from her.

"Ah. Ah. Oooooh. Oh. Ahhhhnnn. Ungghhhh." She can't think. She can't even begin to try to stop the orgasm that sits on her spine, settling slowly toward her groin. She knows when it touches, she will dissolve.

The pounding ceases, but his tongue teases her opening, presses it to give up its nectar. And it does. She feels her juices streaming from her. He laps at her and the imminent climax drifts down. Ever closer.

He releases her and she relaxes. Relief pours from her every nerve. She nearly came again. She wants to please him so badly, but he makes her body jerk and dance at his every delight. He does what he wants with her.

As she sags in her bindings, his spear drives through her heart. She thrashes, but his hands have her hips. They grab and pull her. They let her know they have her and can treat her like a rag doll. His pole assaults her. Thrusts so hard into her, breath becomes a gift he will allow or keep from her by his will. And always the orgasm hangs there. Ominous. Threatening.

He stops, letting her know she will not be allowed to burst, but before she can gasp or regain composure, his beast is at her lips demanding entrance.

She opens wide, choking and nattering as it shoves in before her invitation. It tastes of a light and delicate musk. Familiar and pleasant. He pushes it in slowly until his balls meet her chin. His groans shoot pleasure through her body, down her thighs. He holds her head by the hair, pulls out and pushes back in. His groans come deep and full and her grin around the hard tube is one of gloating satisfaction.

He bends and kisses her and the same delicious taste pervades her nostrils. His lips are impregnated by her scent. The wetness slides over her lips and she suckles it greedily.

The taste is so subtle, yet overpowering and she feels the relentless pressure of that orgasm. His orgasm, she reminds herself. It's his to tell her when and how. That only serves to bring its demands nearer.

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