Come

April 4th, 2009

“Come.”

With one finger, I slowly motion her forward. She moves, unsure at first but then quickly makes up the time, fearing my wrath. Head low, ass high. My eyes trace the curve of naked flesh along her back. Thin fabric traces the crack of her ass, dividing it into two perfectly round cheeks silhouetted against the dark background behind her. She moves fluidly, sliding one leg in front of the other, stretching one arm out and then the other. She keeps her palms flat against the ground as I request.

In between her movements, I see the roundness of her breasts sway beneath her body. She is beautiful but it is more than that. She moves sensually. She emits sexuality. Is that a drop I see, already forming on her skin? It slips silently to the floor, unnoticed by my slave as she inches nearer. The sight of her nervousness, her fear, he desire sends a shudder down my spine. I suppress shivering but can’t help the blood from rushing between my legs. My clit tingles as it grows hard and I entertain fantasies of her in my mind.

I keep careful eye on her hair, she knows I don’t like when it’s touched the ground. She is careful but there has been a time or two when she has forgotten. Sometimes she is too anxious too approach – or too fearful – and she forgets. It’s times like those when I lash her wrists to the wall and lash her flesh with a flogger. Rarely, do I make her bleed but I have and I will, when it’s necessary. It won’t be necessary now. I can tell she is concentrating.

She reaches the ground in front of me. Cold concrete to remind her that she is the one on the floor, not I. She remains with her head down, her hair floats just above the ground and I reach down to pull it over her one shoulder. I drag a nail over her now bare shoulder and it leaves a welt but I do not break the skin. With her hands placed against the ground, I reach for a shackle built into the leg of my chair. My hair falls around her as I do, tickling her skin but she knows better than to make a sound. Were she allowed to look up, she would see my breasts pushing against my bra as I lean forward. But she is not, does not.

The shackle is around her wrist. I know she can see its origin. They’re a recent addition to my throne and if she is surprised, she makes no sound. I spot the smallest movement form her, however. I grin. She has not grown complacent yet. Good. I lean to my other side, fastening the second cuff around her wrist. Fine dark brown leather, worked with gold filigree. Neither are colours I would normally choose but something about this combination pulled at me. The leather is still stiff and I know it will prove to have an extra bite. I may have been a little slack lately. She deserves no special treatment now.

With both wrists secure, I lean back in chair, slide my hips forward. I’m sure she hears the movement which I follow by lifting one leg over her shoulder. Bending it at the knee, I rest the heel of my boot on her ass. The point sinks into her flesh and I smile. At last she emits a soft sound, barely audible, but I know the heel is biting her flesh. At this distance, I see the thong cutting into her hips. I often gift her items that are too small. The gift reminds her of me and the discomfort reminds her of her place in life, just as the silver collar around her neck does both.

With my leg lifted my pussy is exposed. She has surely been aware of this, the cunt slut that she is. I instruct her curtly.

“Eat, girl.”

Slowly, she raises her body up so that her mouth is level with my cunt. I stifle a gasp as her tongue flits between my lips from between her pouty, red lips. She has such a beautiful mouth, so perfect for her current duty. And she does it well. My heat pounds faster as her tongue travels down my lips and back up, around my clit. But she won’t stay for long. She knows what happens if she teases. That’s my job not sure.

I sink my heel further into her ass as she puts her expert skills to good use. Her mouth surrounds my clit as her tongue darts this way and back. She begins to suck on my clit and it’s all I can do to keep my composure. I love to surprise her when I come, to squirt all over her face unexpectedly. She always makes such faces, so unglorified, so unladylike. She thinks of herself as elegant, classy even, but I love putting her in positions she can’t control, to force those natural reactions that she would eradicate had she the power to change human nature. Of course there’s nothing like seeing your slut, covered in your own cum. It always gives me such satisfaction.

I bite my lip harshly as her tongue probes inside, but not for long. She knows where I like the focus and she returns to my clit, licking from the base to the lip in a slow, unbroken motion. I swear, with just one movement she has made my clit grow. Involuntarily, I’ve begun to grind my hips against her face. So much for opacity. She moans at my reaction and, instinctively, I shoot up, reaching behind her to smack her ass. Hard. And again. Her skin is bright red after only making contact twice. I have hit her harder than I intended but she knows better, now.

“Shut up, slut.”

I think I feel a slight nod as she continues, never breaking her mouth from my pussy despite the spanking. She’s pushing her tongue against my clit roughly now, just how I like it. Rather than returning my heel to her ass, I drape my leg over the arm of the chair, spreading my pussy open for all the see. She moves forward, having more access now. She is not accustomed to not being able to use her hands but you wouldn’t. know the difference.

Her tongue dances talented across my clit, around my lips. She even licks down my mons, following the thin strip of hair I let grow down to my clit once again. This time she works with a fervor, as though her life depends on my orgasm. I let her think it just may. I chuckle to myself.

And then I feel it. Building up deep within, my orgasm builds. I’m not even sure there is an ounce of blood left in any part of my body. My clit so impossibly hard as she works her magic. It’s coming fast, faster than I prepared for. Soon, my orgasm is barreling through my body like a train. Nothing can stop this force. My hips buck involuntarily and I grab the back of her head, tangling my fingers in her hair. My orgasm rolls over my body and I feel the contractions of my cunt, each one separate and strong yet all part of the same. I finally let go as I come, moaning and fucking her face as I push a stream of cum against her face. I feel it dripping down my cunt. Like a good girl, she has never stopped and my pleasure keeps coming.

As my orgasm subsides I pull my hips away. My cum is streaming down her face. Hair has plastered to her skin. She looks entirely ungraceful, now. She looks like my slut. She is my slut. I stand.

“Come,” I direct her. And she does, pulling at the shackles around her wrists. I can hear her moan as her body responds to my demand, even as I walk away.


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