tagBDSMThe Lesson

The Lesson


His firm hand rests upon her cheek. Softness glows in the quivering flesh. "I like when you tremble." His voice is lust itself washing over her and her hips squirm in need despite her desperate struggle to keep panic at bay.

His hard cock pushes far into her throat and demands her full attention; forces her to swallow over and over to get it in and hold it there without gagging. His hand gently smoothes a lock of hair from the front of her ear and sets it in place. Her skin shivers. Warmth is his touch, but fear lies cold upon her heart. As does her desire.

Air rushes in where his hard length takes itself back from her. Her tongue darts out, her lips stretch, her neck pushes forward to try to get it back, but he pulls out of reach. By forcing herself as far out as she can, she just manages to touch the smooth head and she thinks surely he will come back for more, but he grabs a fist of her hair and yanks hard.

She gasps and arches. He's taken her by surprise. When it passes and she calms, he pushes his throbbing member relentlessly back past her lips. She opens her mouth wide for him, swallows and pulls him in with tongue, lip and muscle.

Again he pulls back and again shoves in. She takes on the rhythm of his movements. Craning forward as he slides in, shaking her head side to side and pulling back as he does. She wants to touch his hips, feel his buttocks clench and force, but her hands spasm uselessly. Locked together and linked to the bed.

His palm strokes her cheek and her flesh wavers. The steady throb of his hardness keeps her fear partly at bay. His fist in her hair directs her head more forcefully into his groin, holds her close and this time when it pulls back, it leaves her out of reach of more.

"I love the way you need this." His hand slips easily over her cheekbone. "I enjoy the way you will do whatever I need from you even though it frightens you and makes you wish you didn't want such things."

"Yes." Is all she can manage.

He had pulled away from her lips, but her throat is still constricted. Clamping down on itself. Tightening around a phantom cock.

She wants to say more. Her mouth moves of its own accord. She can't. She can't think of anything to say, even if she were capable of it. She doesn't know if it's fear or simply that she is too lost to manage any more than a simple yes.

His hand strokes her cheek yet, and she wants to flinch even as her skin wants to curl around the back of his fist and sleep. Spoon with the hand that holds the whip. She wants and fears, craves and wishes she were free. Her hands twist in their bindings.

"I'm afraid you're going to need these tonight." His tone was easy, his hands firm and unyielding as he grasped her wrist and buckled the cuff tight.

"Why would I need it?" She asked, just as lightly. Panic already welling up inside her like tears that come unbidden. "I'm good for you." It sounds to her ears as though she is whining. "I try very hard to please you." Now pouting.

He grabs the other wrist and starts buckling the other cuff on. "You do please me." He tells her. "You please me very much." As if in emphasis of this, she feels him stab at her thigh. A poke, a pulse and another, longer, prodding as he tightens the buckle down and clips her wrists together.

His hand circles her chin and pulls it over his hard length. Squeezes her lips together as the other fist yanks her hair until his balls bounce against the back of his hand. She tries to gasp, wants to shake her head side to side to increase his pleasure, enhance the sensation for him, but his fist and palm keep her steady while his hips thrust in deeper.

When he tied her wrists to the bed, she began to writhe. Usually she can tell by the tone of his voice or the texts that he sends what his mood will be. Whether she will be tormented until she can barely take anymore, then pummelled by his cock in a sexual experience rougher than she has experience for previous or whether he will be sensitive and kind as he takes her to heights of orgasm and desire she hardly believed possible before him.

Sometimes, like today, she has no idea what he wants from her. The uncertainty grows throughout the day as he calls or texts with tiny barbs or light banter. She has no idea if he is jesting or serious when he tells her she will be tormented. Or if it is like the rough days. The ones that leave marks on her. Body and mind. And heart.

Her body often carries the soreness, the red lines and tender spots - even bruises - for days, her mind smiles and wanders whenever she feels or sees the reminders of their time. Her heart, though, never gets over the way he takes her. Whether it is a gentle day or a night that leaves deep marks for days, the traces he leaves in her heart can never fade.

The texts and calls throughout the day, however, served to increase her anxiety moment by moment. He sent her a list. She expects that now. Whether he sends it days ahead or on the same day she knows he will be there, she gets the things ready that he tells her. The list for today was fairly simple and she thought at first that meant that he would be sweet and tender with her. Although that really isn't an indicator, she always hopes for his tender side. She aches for his caress and the way he makes her feel as though love is an endless pool she has fallen into and can float carelessly therein.

Even as she craves the rough flare and force of his brutal days, she yet hopes for the ease of his comfort. Her body responds to both equally as extreme. She yearns for the tender spots in her flesh when she feels the sweet glow of a starlit night bathing her morning skin and longs for the soft touch of his fingers when she cannot move for feeling a twinge and poignant stab of memory.

Sometimes he sends her a list that makes her heart race and her knees shake and then his hands melt her into the most delicious puddle of afterglow that she can remember ever dreaming of. Sometimes he sends a minimal list that he uses to such extreme advantage that she can hardly walk the next day and wants only to sleep.

It doesn't matter what he sends, she will have it ready when he walks through the door. She learned that lesson early on and it is embedded well into her psyche. Besides, she wouldn't have it any other way.

The first text came just after she got to work. "The cuffs, the belt, the riding crop, the blindfold. A button up blouse and skirt." Short and simple. She felt her insides melt and pour out over her thighs. She is going to get spanked or whipped.

"I'm looking forward to tonight. I do hope you'll be good for me."

The second text sent her heart wildly thrashing against the inside of her chest. It came just after the first one and before she could answer. Now her fingers fumble and she thinks she won't be able to send him an acknowledgement.

"I always try to be very good for you." She manages to type. Her fingers thick and stumbling with many corrections, it took minutes that dragged on before being able to press send and take a long needed breath.

It was an hour and a half into her day that he called. A rarity. His voice sends wave of fluid gushing through her and out.

"You are very good for me." He begins and warmth spreads in ripples from the center of her mind. "I want to help you so that you will always know what I need from you."

Those same circles of light and desire turn to cold desperation. Worse, her body sends another flush of liquid down her thighs.

"I'll do whatever you want from me, you know that." She whispers this even though her office is empty of all but her.

"I do know that." He says with a light chuckle. She can't gauge his tone and has no idea whether he toys with her now or is discussing his needs in earnest.

Every couple hours throughout the day, she gets another text. Something about how he looks forward to seeing her or wants to make sure that she is serious about being good and doing everything he wants. Every time she assures him she will do anything. Every time her throat goes dry and her sex opens in a flood.

He stands next to her, pressing his hard member deeper into her throat, caressing her cheek with hand and voice. "You need to be taught what I want." Heat trails a wide swath over her delicate face. "I don't blame you. You can't know unless I show you." She squirms and feels a deep gag she works hard to suppress.

The belt whistles down upon her half bare bottom. She tries to scream, but smooth hard flesh clogs the sound. Lets out only a muffled keening.

The belt strikes her again and again and she feels puddles splashing and liquid pouring from her sex. Splatters of wetness up over her thighs and stomach. His pounding cock tamps all her screams into a disorganized pile of need.

The belt strikes again and again until she loses track of time and knowledge. She has no idea when it ended, but he is curled up into her back with his lips at her ear and his pulsing need pressed into her flaming buttocks.

"I need you to learn this lesson." She hears only the nubile tones of his lust and feels waves of desperation wash over her.

His fist wraps itself in her hair and tugs her neck extended. His teeth scrape over her ear. His tongue lines the inner part. "What do I like?"

"What?" She falters. Her eyes turn down and she somehow resists the urge to twist in her bindings.

"The more you tell me, the less punishment you can expect. I need you to learn this lesson, it is not something you did that deserves my attention. It is simply time for you to learn how I am best pleased. I think you are finally ready."

Breath is lost to her. It flies away with her thought, leaving her shaken to her very core. She tries to talk, but words come out as moans and sighs come out as gasps.

His hands separate the top buttons and his fingers trail over the delicate portions of her neck and collarbones. Shivers follow wherever he lights. Another button and goosebumps rush down the middle of her chest. Another move and he reaches in to cup her breast.

She thinks how odd it is that she baits her breath in hope that he will pinch her nipple. Pull it between his fingers and twist it until sharp pangs of need shoot through the top of her head. She's never been one for pain or such harsh ideas before. He has blurred those lines for her to the extent that she aches for such things and even pinches herself harder when she is alone than he does when they are together.

He plays with her breast, hefting it and feeling it full and heaving in his palm. He moves to the other, leaving this one to press forward in his absence. Wanton tits of hers leaping into his hands and bursting forth for more when he gives only a little. She has never been like this before and little understands now what he has done to her.

"Tell me what I like." His voice is low and dangerous whispering like a growl in her ear. So close that she feels the moisture from his inner self.

"I. I don't know." She falters. Her voice and thought fail her completely. Her hands shake in their cuffs. Above her head and of no use to defend her or deflect the blows sure to come. Nothing comes to mind. Less than nothing.

"You knew what to wear for me. What would excite me. You certainly flirt with me as often as I allow."

"Yes." She twists back and forth. She is becoming desperate. She feels him hard and insistent slipping up in the crack between her legs. A shiver and she swallows. "You like shirts that show my breasts."

"There, see?" He is patient as if talking to a child. His tone remains deadly. She is afraid of what he is asking of her.

"Y-you like when I am wet and ready for you."


You like when I'm frightened."

"Yes I do, don't I?" He chuckles. "I can't help that."

She breathes easier. It seems that's all he wants from her.

"What else do I like?"

Quivers wrack her frame. He's not through with her. "You like me to dress for you. You like that I work hard to please you."

"Very good." He nibbles her ear.

"I like when you aren't sure of what is coming." His voice slides down into her spine and she burns from the words. "I like when you tremble."

"Yes. I know. I can't help it. You frighten me."

"You are afraid of yourself. You're afraid of what you can do. What you will do if you are free to do whatever you want."

She can't breathe.

He nips at the top of her ear. His hands more insistent on her tits. Grabbing and squeezing. And finally, there is the pinch of her nipple. Vicious and stabbing. The pull and twist of the entire aureola. She should scream, but all that comes out is a gasp and an even louder moan. Her body quakes out of control.

"What else do I like?"

Suddenly, she knows what he wants. She understands that she has known it all along and is simply avoiding it.

"You like me to beg."

His breath comes out heavy. Almost a panting like some great wolf too near in the forest where she surely hides until daylight comes to save her.

"You like when I beg you to fuck me. When I plead with you to let me suck your cock."

"Yes I do." His air is hot. The atmosphere surrounding him bestial and thick. "I like when you are driven beyond your hope and thought until you can do nothing else. I like you so thoroughly desperate that you will do anything for me to take you."

As he says this, he pinches her nipple again. A stab of pure flame that takes her very heart up and stops it.

"I have enjoyed taking you beyond your boundaries one at a time."

"Yes." The times flash before her eyes in a long stream of desire, love and hope. She can't really believe all the things she has done with him. All that she has allowed him to do to her. The places hidden in her darkest mind he has taken her through.

"You like making me do things I don't think I can."

"I loved tying you for the first time. Somehow you thought you would always be able to get loose. Like bindings weren't really tight enough to hold you."

"Yes. That scared me when I couldn't get out. I only stopped from panicking by the way you held me and talked to me."

"What else do I like?"

"You liked the first time you whipped my tits." His breath is sharp. "I'd never felt anything like that before and I did panic that time. Until you pulled me back from the edge."

"That was very good." His voice is huskier than ever. It slips over her ear drenched with lust. "I enjoyed that very much." His fingers involuntarily pinch at her nipples again. Moving one from the other and tweaking at the soft underside. "There is something absolutely thrilling to me feeling leather slapping on the heaviness of your breasts. The solid feel and your response is amazing to me.and excites me until I'm nearly out of control."

"Yes. I like when you get that way. Even though it means that I will have the marks to show for it the next day."

She continues to shiver. The trembling began when he tied her hands and she realized he was in one of the moods where she has had the most torment (and the most pleasure) and it hasn't abated even a bit. She thinks this is the longest she has felt so close to panic of any of the many times she has been so near to losing her mind. Of the many times he has brought her so far and still somehow kept her from madness.

His fingers keep plucking at her tender mounds. She wants to writhe and cry out, but she is so fearful that she is frozen. He will do what he wants.

His hand twirls her hair around and yanks her neck wide open once more. "What do I like?" He is as turned on as she has ever felt from him. Lust and depravity burn from him in waves shimmering through the dim light of the room.

Her breath comes in small gasps and movement is outside her ability. Her nerves are so completely disconnected from her brain and thought that she doesn't know if she will ever be the same.

"I haven't been the same since I told him this is what I wanted." She thinks grimly to herself and knows it to be the truth.

"You want me. All of me."

"Yes. I want you. Without any of your pretenses or masks."

She feels tears trying to burst free of their spring.

"I want you so desperate and needy that you'll beg and cry and crawl. That you'll do whatever I want as I take my pleasure from your body."

His fingers have moved from her sore and aching breasts to her ribs. His teeth scrape across the tip of her ear once more and then he kisses his way down her jawline to her cheek to her lips. He lingers soft and barely touching the corners.

"Yes." She somehow manages to reply.

He straddles her, forcing her onto her back, locking her legs apart, her sex open to him and her insides drizzling down the crack of her ass and over her anus. His pole drives into her in one fierce push that sends a scream out into the night. He punishes her with deep stabs until she feels the urgency pounding over her and he just as suddenly stops, sending her into a frenzy of thrashing and thrusting. Trying to gain that purchase that will press his cock over her cervix that one more time and send her into promised oblivion.

Instead, the belt snaps down over one nipple after the other. Sends her jerking straight up until yanked back by the cuffs on her wrists. The bed crashes with the force of her struggles. The belt snaps again and again. The leather tail sharp and cutting across the already tender flesh of her full globes. Every bite is an agony as she feels so close to bursting that she can't imagine them ever being the same again.

Her screams blend one into the other until she is keening a sound of both pleasure and fear. Or pain. She has no idea which. His hard cock, grown thicker and longer, begins to move in and out, pummeling her. Sending her reeling over whatever edge she couldn't see or know before. She is lost to time.

His fist yanks her back. Forces her mouth onto his raging monster by the hair. The belt, wrapped around his palm drapes over her cheek and sends her into convulsions. Terror and utter need collide in a burst of sheer desperation.

His hand strokes her cheek as she calms. Brings her back gently to reality. Splashes of moisture have left spackles under her eyes and she has no idea where it came from. His hard length fills her throat and her world.

His hand firmly pulls her hip toward him and the belt whistles down onto her ass where it tries to peek out from beneath the too short skirt she'd picked out specially for him and she suddenly realizes what he is talking about when he asks her what he likes. "I pick out clothes for him." The crack of leather jerks a scream from her. "I move the way I know he'll respond." Another crack. "I do everything I can to drive him over the edge and give him as much pleasure as he gives me."

He shifts back to his position behind her. "What do I like?"

"You like when I am completely yours." The answers come flowing over her like water and air in front of a tempest. "You like taking me past my limits."

"Very good." She cannot move. Need has taking her past even the paralysis of her fear. Her chest heaves and burns, her skin lives with electricity. Sparks and tingles, spits all the muscle movement she is unable to purpose from herself out of her pores.

His fingers slide up between her legs and delve into the dripping wetness there. He forces two digits between her teeth and her musk flavors her gums, sending her even closer to the orgasm he has only just managed to keep at bay. He pushes something hard and rounded inside her and she jumps to life when the humming starts.

Her thoughts gush out her open sex with a wave of fluid she doesn't know she had left. His fingers slip over her clit and pinch down one labia then the other. She is so smooth and slick that he cannot hold onto any of the silken flesh in the area. He rubs his knuckles down the delicate gash and up the back where he presses another rounded object into her anus. When it begins to strum, she screams and thrashes. Comes alive in a fury of undoing, even as his voice threatens in her ear. "Don't you fucking dare cum or I will turn everything off, fuck you in the ass, coming within seconds and leave you here in such need that you will not be able to move until I come back to save you."

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byarbenitre© 0 comments/ 8474 views/ 6 favorites

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