Pillow Talk Ch. 01

He pushed her down against the bed, one hand holding her wrists tightly behind her back. A minor concern, really, compared to the deep pain radiating from her ass. He'd spanked until she cried, and then switched to the paddle until she safeworded.

It had been what she needed, he thought. And later, I'm going to take what I need from her.

He slid the fingers of his free hand down to her pussy, stroking her inner lips, tugging on them and stretching them out even further than they naturally fell. He knew she was embarrassed about that, but he had never seen a pussy he liked better. They gave it personality, uniqueness--and of course, so much more for him to play with.

She exhaled sharply, somewhere between a moan and a hiss of pain. They had put harsh wooden clothespins all over them before the spanking, and he had only just tugged them off.

"Awww, does that hurt, sweet girl?" he asked mockingly. She nodded, but also spread her legs wider and arched her back higher. He chuckled. "Such a horny little painslut, aren't you? Do you just want me to hurt you more?"

"No, Daddy!" came a muffled shout. Her hair an onyx curtain across blue bedding, she still had her face into the pillow. He didn't need to hold her down--she was a good sub, after all--but they both loved knowing she couldn't escape now even if she wanted to.

"Hmm," he said, releasing her lips and sliding his fingertips against her entrance, swirling slightly. "If not that, then what does this greedy pussy of yours want?"

"Cummies," she said, lifting her head so she was clearly heard.

He slid two fingers inside her, deeply, pressing slightly against her cervix. Light rubs there made her go crazy with need, while rubbing her G-spot did nothing, he'd been pleased to discover. "Special good-girl cummies? Or Daddy's cummies"

"Both, Daddy," she scolded playfully, an eye roll in vocal form. "Duh."

He smiled, happy to see that she still had some brattiness left in her. He loved that it never went away for long, as it allowed him to most accurately gauge where she was in subspace. Today, it meant that he could still push her harder, that the earlier safeword had only been used to switch the activity, not fully end things. She had used her yellow, but he liked being able to make sure, as they were working on her recognizing her limits so she didn't push herself too far trying to please him.

"Okay, sweetheart," he said, leaning forward to kiss the palm of one hand, then the other. Once he was re-positioned properly, he began working his fingers against her walls, rubbing her most intimate places with skilled efficiency. "Don't move."

A-spot, cervix, both. Over and over again, while she shuddered and clenched her tight, hot pussy over his fingers, moaning and screaming into the bed. He could see the effort that it took for her to not orgasm, and to not rock back against him. She had long since given up orgasms of her own, and the best she could have now was the occasional ruin.

Sometimes, in the midst of his own orgasms, or when watching her ruin, he wished that he had let her have even one full orgasm since meeting her.

Sometimes--and he was always sure to tell her about this--the idea of feeling her pussy clenching and pulsing desperately on his cock as they came together pushed him over the edge.

Sometimes, he made her fake it, and then told her that now that she'd had an orgasm, he was going to deny her twice as long before the next one.

But she was never allowed a real one.

It was her own fault. She had begged him to never let her cum before their first in person date had finished. He'd played at being opposed, letting her plead her case and explain why it was better for her.

And then he'd held her to it. Made it part of their wedding vows, to which she'd joyously agreed.

Smiling fondly at the memories, he edged her harder and harder, until her legs gave out and she laid face down on the bed.

He withdrew his fingers and slowly sucked her juices off them, watching her.

Her whole body was trembling slightly, aftershocks hitting every breath as she breathed, causing hosts and hosts of what she liked to call 'ruined edges.'

He stroked her back and hair with both hands while she did so, occasionally grabbing it tightly at the nape of her neck, causing another round of aftershocks.

"You were so good for me honey," he murmured in her ear, his beard rubbing against the curve of her ear and his breath causing her to whimper in protest at the sensation. "It's so good that you gave up all your real orgasms to be my good girl, able to experience pleasure like this over and over."

She smiled dazedly. "Thank you for taking them, my love."

He tightened his grip in her hair, and wrapped his other hand around her throat. "And now I'm going to take your tight little ass."

She mewled helplessly in protest, but also bucked strongly against him in a hands-free edge. Her body always told the truth of her desires, usually before her mouth had caught up.

God, I love her, he thought.