Only Getting Started

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Blindfolded and sensitive, my need only grows.
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The moment I get home, I feel hands covering my eyes. Breath hitching as I hear His softly spoken words. "It's time, darling. Are you ready?" His presence behind me and His hushed tone in my ear sends a shiver down my spine.

I quickly nod my head, "Yes, Sir. I'm more than ready." I try to sound confident, but my immediate response and breathlessness gives away my eagerness. He laughs lightly and I feel His breath on my neck. God how I wish His lips would land where His breath did, but it is only a wish, I do not make demands. He is the one in charge now, and I relish it.

Moving to the bedroom, eyes still covered and closed, my mind races with what is about to happen. Of course, we discussed this before, with no explicit details since it was supposed to be a surprise. The exhilaration of not knowing only adding to the fun. "Stay there, don't open your eyes and don't move," He orders sternly, and with that, His hands leave my eyes and I feel Him leave the room. I want to fidget or bounce on the balls of my feet from anticipation, but I remain still.

When He returns, I feel something placed over my eyes once again. It's soft against my skin, a blindfold, and my heart jumps. This is really happening. I feel His hands move and gently caress down my arms, fingers gliding over my hands before He strongly grabs my waist. I gasp in surprise as He pulls me back against His chest. I feel His hard cock pressed against my ass and I withhold a whimper. Resting His chin on my shoulder He speaks lightly in my ear.

"We're going to have so much fun tonight, baby girl," He gently guides my hips, swaying with His, before spinning me around so that I'm face to face with Him. I cannot see His face of course, but I can feel His satisfaction at the sight of me. "I'm going to tease you until you're screaming for my cock and begging for me to let you cum. Doesn't that sound fun?" I can't help but blush, eagerly nodding my head again.

"It sounds amazing, Sir."

I hear the smile in His voice as He replies, "Good. Now, be a doll for me, and strip."

With that, He releases me and steps back, and I feel like I'm alone. I know that He's still there, in the room, watching me as I follow His order. But without seeing Him, I feel isolated. With a shuddering breath, I reach for the hem of my shirt, moving to lift it. Before it's even above my waist, I hear Him clear His throat and I immediately freeze. "Take your time with it, darling. Put on a nice show for me."

I give a nod of certainty and return to removing my shirt. I gently run one hand across my stomach slowly, taking in the feeling of my skin before grasping my shirt. I carefully lift it up, pausing every few seconds to caress the new flesh being exposed. Luckily, getting it over my head without disturbing the blindfold isn't too much of a problem, but as my shirt is finally removed, I feel naked, despite having more layers to go.

I then move to my pants. Rubbing my hands over my still clothed thighs and ass, turning around to give Him the full view of my actions. I finally unbutton my pants and wiggle as I push them down my legs, bending down in the process with my ass towards where I believe Him to be.

Stretching back up, I step out of them and I am left in only my underwear. I take another deep breath before I start feeling around myself once more. Fingers skimming over my arms, past my elbows. Slipping the straps of my bra off my shoulders, I hold my bra to my chest as I unhook it in the back, before letting it drop to the floor. I turn once more towards where I think He is, allowing him to see my breasts. My hands quiver slightly as I reach to remove my underwear. I slip them over my hips and feel them fall down my legs without much effort. I step out of them and know this is just the beginning.

Exposed for Him and waiting for His next order, I place my hands behind my back and stand up straight, shoulders squared and completely still. My ears strain, trying to listen for some form of movement or sign He is there at all, I think I hear His breathing, but don't know if I'm just getting it confused for my own.

The anticipation keeps building until I finally hear a shuffle. "A wonderful performance baby, but that was just the opening act. Get on the bed, legs spread." I respond without hesitation, feeling for where the bed is. I touch the comforter with the edge of my fingertips and move towards it, crawling on top of the bed before moving into position. On my back, seeing nothing but blackness, legs spread and arms at my side, my body tingles, ready for what He has in store.

The silence expands and I feel as if I am swallowed by it. My breathing so loud to my ears, the comforter feels soft against my back. Without thinking, I run my hands over it, grasping at it. It easily crumples in my hands and I imagine myself clinging to it for dear life as I'm overwhelmed by the things He makes me feel.

I can't help but clench at the thought, and I am reminded how empty I am. He's barely touched me. Covered my eyes, grabbed my hips and a few teasing touches, and I'm already so wet. Wet for Him. Because of Him. I am His.

Picturing Him from behind the blindfold, I yearn to see Him; to look into His eyes, see the mirthful glint in them as I squirm and the twinkle they get as I do as He says without hesitation. I'm brought out of my thoughts by His voice and it sounds like music to my ears.

"Touch yourself for me, baby girl." Instantly my hands let go of the comforter and reach to where I'm aching for contact, but hearing Him loudly tut, I stop and can't help but release a high-pitched whine. "Aw, sweet girl, I know, you're so wet and needy, aren't you?" I let out another whine and He asks again more forcefully, "Aren't you?"

I nod and whimper, a quiet, "Yes, Sir," breathlessly escaping me. I want to listen and be good but I'm also in such desperate need of some kind of contact.

Feeling the bed shift, He leans down and whispers teasingly in my ear, "I never said you could touch your dirty cunt, did I?"

Shaking my head, I can't help but let out a soft cry of "No, Sir". I knew I shouldn't have been so greedy. Opening my mouth to apologize, He cuts me off.

"I don't want excuses, I want you to follow orders, slut. Now listen to me very carefully." His tone is stern, and I know that this isn't a game and I know not to test Him. I give a small nod to show I was paying attention, my bottom lip between my teeth. "Good," the bed shifts again, and He is no longer next to me, yet His presence still holds me captivated.

"I want you to touch yourself," He pauses to see if I move and when I remain still, He continues, "I want you to touch yourself everywhere but where you crave it. I want your fingers to dance along your legs, but not along your cunt. I want you to massage your breasts, but not tweak your nipples. I want you to be so desperate for me to touch you where you are the most sensitive that you are begging and mindless. Do I make myself clear, slut?"

While He was speaking, my hands grabbed the comforter again, trying to reign myself back from starting before He finished His orders again. I whine in response to His question and He huffs out a breath. "Words, bitch. Say, 'Yes, Sir,' and then you may begin."

I whimper before taking a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. My pussy burning with the need to be touched, but I couldn't focus on that now. I had orders. With another calming breath, I open my mouth to shakily say, "Y-yes, S-sir." Upon not hearing a response, I begin. Slowly releasing the comforter once more, I use my right hand to gently trace up my stomach. Fingers gliding around in lazy circles before moving up to my breast.

Not allowed to tease my nipples, I cup my breast and squeeze. I feel my hips involuntarily buck and my left hand goes to touch, but I restrain myself and grab tightly to my thigh instead. Gradually I lessen my grip and start massaging it, rubbing my fingers into my tensed muscles. I shudder and release a gentle moan.

My right hand moves down to massage my other thigh and although my pussy is screaming to be touched, this feels just as good. Legs relaxing, my hands slowly move up my body, rubbing at my stomach and eventually both hands are massaging my breasts as my cunt drips in need.

A whine escapes my throat, my whole body heating up as my touches get more intense. I grope my breasts roughly before one hand leaves to dig its nails into my thigh once again and I groan at the pain. But it feels so good contrasted by the pleasure my breasts are feeling. I can't help but grunt at the mix of sensations. I forget everything except myself. It doesn't matter where I am or that I can't see. My pussy is thoroughly soaked, and it hasn't even been touched. I want to slap it, to feel the sting and feel as I gush more. I want to pinch my nipples, pull on them and abuse them until they're sore.

Groaning in frustration, my right hand goes to my throat, squeezing. I need more. To feel more and get out of my skin. I'm whining and letting out whatever noises that come out of my throat as I frantically grab at myself. My hips bucking with wild abandon. I lift my arm high and smack my breast and cry out as I do so, a stray, "Please," leaving myself but I don't even notice.

I smack both of my thighs as hard as I can and relish the burn as I do it over and over, starting to whine and cry out mindlessly. They might be words or simply sounds, but my body feels on fire and it's still not enough. I'm panting as I move, smacking myself all over, just to feel more.

His voice cuts through my muddled mind and I feel my wrists being caught and forced above my head. "Someone seems to be getting antsy. Is it time for the next act, darling?" I grapple against His grip, crying out, needing physical contact elsewhere. I can't help but think if He were to grip my throat like how tightly he holds my wrists, I would be more than overjoyed.

"Ah, ah, ah, bitch, do I have to tell you again? Stop struggling and use your words." His tone is strong, and it reaches deep into me. I slowly settle down, my breathing still ragged, but I'm able to focus on Him.

I can hear His steady breathing and I try to match mine with His and I feel my limbs relax. As He notices me become still, He releases my wrists, but I leave them resting above my head, still too fuzzy to move them or do much else, just knowing He wants me to be calm. His hands travel down my arms, across my breasts and continue down to my thighs. I let out a slight whimper as He teases the hot red handprints I left as well as along my inner thigh, hoping He would do something more, but He moves swiftly on to my calves before making His way back up.

When His hands reach my chest, instead of following up my arms like at the start, His fingers dance along my neck before gently cupping my face. He turns me to face Him and I can't help but nuzzle into His palm. "Have you composed yourself, slut?" I nod into His palm, still trying to ground myself, but that's not what He wanted.

His grip tightens on my face and I realize my mistake, "I'm relaxed, Sir. I just, need a moment, please?" At my response, He loosens His grip once more and I feel His fingers gently caressing my face. With a sigh of content, I further relax into the bed and His hands.

"You did so well, baby girl. You got so worked up, didn't you?"

I nod and mumble a, "Yes, Sir," in agreement, feeling drained from my frenzied touching. One of His hands leaves my face and caresses up and down my body again and I shiver under his feather light touches.

"Yes, you got all worked up and excited for me. Made me so hard to see you bucking around like that, baby." His hand wanders down further but I barely notice the direction it's heading until his fingers wipe up my soaked slit and He starts rubbing my clit with his sopping fingers. I can't withhold my cry and immediately start bucking into his hand, but he keeps moving it away from my thrusts. He's still the one in control. "Don't you dare think we're done yet, darling. We're only getting started."

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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 5 years ago
Well Played

This should be the last entry in the series. Keep the readers in as much anticipation as the protagonist.

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