Loading...Nine o’clock on a Tuesday and I’m in bed reading. I feel you in the doorway before I see you. I look up to say hello and the words die in my mouth as our eyes meet. Intimidating is a word most people would use to describe my half of our couple. You’re the affable one that everybody loves. You’re the perfect boyfriend.
A saint. A Boy Scout. But not tonight. Tonight something powerful is radiating off your lithe body in waves. The small room crackles to life as you step into it.
You move the few steps from the doorway over to the bed and sit at the the end with your back to me, feet firmly on the floor, knees bent and spread casually. You snap your fingers and point to a spot directly in front of you. “Come stand right here” you say quietly without turning to look at me.
When I don’t move immediately you add “I don’t think you want me to have to ask again”. A flight of butterflies bloom in my stomach.
I remind myself that I asked for this. My interest in submission led me to Tumblr and there I found all sorts of advice on how to talk to your partner about these impulses.
I remember that when I finally got the courage to bring it up, you seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so. We had been doing some good, old-fashioned making out on the couch. I explained my fantasy about you taking control. (And by ‘explained’ I mean stammered, blushed and blurted my way through a string of incomplete sentences. Did I mention I have an advanced degree from an Ivy League institution?)
“I’ve freaked you out,” I squeaked. “You’re horrified”.
“Um, no. I -“.
“Yes, you are! Look at you! You can’t believe you’re in love with such a deviant pervert!” I was panicking. That’s what it sounds like when I panic. I was bright red and talking very very fast.
“Hey, I don’t think you’re a pervert,” you said, touching my face. “You’re smarter than most of the people I know put together. I trust you. I mean, my girlfriend just told me she wants to use her body to please me endlessly. I wouldn’t say that’s a bad night. Just … give me a second.”
“OK,” I said, trying not to look at you, but having a hard time not over analyzing every second of silence that passed. The last sounds of summer were floating in from the street through the open window. I am many things, but patient is not one of them.
“SAY SOMETHING!” I shouted suddenly.
“Shouldn’t you say please?” you teased with a genuine smile. I smiled back. “I mean, seriously,” you said with feigned exasperation. “You don’t seem very good at this so far.”
My eyes narrowed. “Now might be a good time to try out your safe word, buddy,” I shot back scowling. We both promptly erupted into laughter.
“Do you have one,” you asked hesitantly. “A safe word, I mean?”
I blushed and gave a small nod. I took your wrist and turned your forearm up. Using my finger, I traced a word onto your skin: n-o-r-t-h. North. I kept my eyes on your arm where my word rested.
You reached up and tugged gently on one of my curls. “Wow,” you said quietly. “My heroine is just full of surprises.”
You asked a lot of questions including how sure I was that I wanted this. You kept me very close physically even though I kept trying to fold in on myself and scoot away. You were patient and gently teasing as you coaxed my answers from me. You said you needed some time to think about it and do some research. I kissed you gently, thanked you and went to get you a beer. That was 3 weeks ago.
So, fast forward to Tuesday and here is the firm hand I have asked for. I take a deep breath. I quietly close the book, lay it on the nightstand and turn off my lamp. I slip my legs from beneath the blankets to the floor and pad over to stand in front of you, my eyes firmly on my bare feet and pink toenails. The black panties I was wearing at dinner are hidden just barely beneath the hem of the t-shirt I wear to bed. Your eyes move slowly up my body and I can’t help but fidget.
“Be still,” you say.
My body comes to rest immediately. My eyes are cast to the floor, but I know if I was to look up we would be almost eye level. I’m so small compared to you, but with you sitting down we’re almost the same height. It’s precisely why we have a bed so low to the ground.
“Show me your panties,” you say and I lift the hem of my t-shirt to show you the black lace. “Good. Now hands behind your back.” I do as I’m told. Your right hand rises up and cups my left breast through the thin material of my well-worn t-shirt. It’s barely a caress. You know exactly what I like. You use the soft fabric to slide over my skin gently while you lift and support the weight of my full breast. You lean in and I can see the firm set of your jaw and mouth. Thoughtful. “It’s my fault,” you say in almost a whisper. “I’ve been far too lenient with you.”
My breath catches as you move the pads of your fingers over my nipple and begin to slide the material across the sensitive peak in small circles. “But, speaking like such a wanton little slut in public like you did earlier tonight at the restaurant cannot go unpunished.” I gasp and my eyes snap to meet yours. “Eyes on the floor, kitten,” as your thumb and forefinger pinch my nipple gently. I begin to sway on my feet and feel your left hand come up to rest on my right hip, steadying me. Your other hand goes back to leisurely palming my breast.
We had been out to dinner that night and when the waitress came to ask what we’d like, you had ordered for us both. It sets me on fire when you do that. You’re the only person on the planet I would let do such a thing for me. We were sitting beside each other on the same side of the booth. I rested my left hand on your thigh as the waitress moved away.
“Thank you,” I said. “I love it when you do that.” The full glass of wine I’d already had after a very, very long day was definitely rearing its head when I leaned over to you and said, “It makes me so wet.”
Still facing out to the floor of the restaurant, your eyebrow shot up. You reached for your beer and took a long pull. I proceeded to tell you what I hoped you would do to me when we got home. True to my New England roots, I’m usually more reserved. ‘Eminently appropriate’ is what you have jokingly called me in the past. But tonight I was brave and filthy. Like I said, I was a little drunk. The trace of a smile hovered on your lips but your eyes stayed focused out toward the rest of the crowd. My voice trailed off when our food arrived. We ate in silence. The more time that passed the more uncomfortable I became. Had I crossed a line? Had I offended you? A flush spread across my cheeks. I became embarrassed. I could hardly eat. You frowned when the waitress cleared my barely touched plate. You paid the check and we started the short walk back to the apartment. Less than a block from our place, you said you needed to make a stop.
“I’ll meet you at home,” you said.
“Back there,” I said. “The things I … Did I do something to upset you?” You bent at the knees so that we were eye level and put your right hand on my neck, sliding it up to rest along the underside of my jaw.
“You always please me, kitten. Go home and get into bed. I won’t be long.” You kissed me softly and then ran your thumb across my lower lip. “Do as you’re told,” you said as you rose and walked in the opposite direction. I’m not sure how long I stood rooted to the spot. I was in bed when you came home 30 minutes later, also known as 3 minutes ago.
The seconds tick past and I can feel the weight of your full gaze on me.
“Baby, please let -” I start. Your hand shoots out and wraps around my throat, not tight enough to hurt, but it shocks me into silence. Instinctively my hands reach out to grab your arm but a quick cock of your head stops me before I make contact. Your grip on my throat tightens and with that my hands slowly go back to where they belong. My thoughts, breath, and (I think) my heart come to a sudden stop. Your body is deadly still and your breath is slow and steady.
“Here’s how it works tonight: I make the rules and you follow them. Nod if you understand.” I nod, quickly and almost imperceptibly.
“Rule number 1: You will do whatever I ask immediately and without question. You will not like what happens if you don’t. Nod if you understand.” I swallow hard and nod.
“Secondly, you will not speak. Not a single goddamned word unless I explicitly give permission. You will try your best to be completely silent. But, not a single unprompted word will escape from that hot little mouth of yours. Nod if you understand.” I give another shallow nod.
The hand at my throat slides up to the top of my neck and then continues its gentle rise. I am almost on tiptoe when you stop. “Look at me, kitten.” I raise my eyes to yours. There is a heat there that I have never seen before. You speak very slowly. “You are the sexiest and most powerful woman I have ever known. But tonight you will submit to me in all things. Tonight you will be conquered. Nod if you understand.” It’s difficult to nod, but I do my best. Then you take your other hand and run your fingertips along the side of my face. Your own eyes are on the fingers moving down my cheek when you utter the two hottest words I have ever heard.
“Good girl.”
I hear myself moan, let out a long sigh and close my eyes. I feel all the tension leave my body. My panties are officially ruined.
A chuckle tumbles from your mouth. “Turn around, take off your shirt and get on your knees, in that order”. I comply carefully. Your voice is weighted with quiet authority: “Heels touching. Good. Now spread your knees a bit more. More. That’s it.” I hear you stand up behind me. You are officially towering over me at this point. A full minute passes. I hear the couple across the hall come home and quietly shut themselves into their apartment. A dog is barking somewhere and our refrigerator shutters to a sudden stop. I’m thinking about your mouth and what your kiss will taste like.
You break the silence. “You look perfect, baby. But I want you lower.” My head darts from side to side in confusion.
“Hands on the floor,” you instruct. I lean forward and put my palms to the carpet about shoulder width apart. I hear you take a deep breath and let it out slowly. When you speak again your voice is colder.
“Lower.”
I move my elbows to the floor holding my torso just above the ground.
“Lower.”
I comply and fold my arms beneath me, turning my face to the right and pressing it to the floor. The carpet is rough against my cheek. About a year ago I abandoned my trademark pixie cut and so now a small pool of chocolate curls forms around my face. I can see your jeans from the knees down and your bare feet. You squat down and take hold of each of my ankles spreading them so they are hips’ width apart. Then I feel your warm palm at the small of my back. A low moan escapes me before I know it’s happening and you apply a little pressure essentially pushing my belly into the carpet. Your hand travels above my shoulders to push my hair forward exposing the full column of my neck. The gesture oozes possession and I know you can feel me trembling beneath your hand.
“Shhh. Easy. Arch that back, kitten. That’s it.” I tip my ass into the air. You rise back to full height and make a sound somewhere between a moan and a grunt. “Yeah. Just like that. Let me get a good look at my beautiful, perfect little slut.” Somewhere in my mind a bell goes off at being called a slut. I ignore it. Instead, I bite my bottom lip in an effort to stay silent and keep my lust to myself.
My breath is coming quickly. I steal a look up your body as you pull your sweater off to reveal the dark button up shirt beneath. You drop it on the foot of the bed and I get a wave of your scent: earthy and clean with a trace of citrus. Your eyes are glued to my panty-covered ass while you reach down to unbutton each of your cuffs and roll them up to your elbows. Jesus, those hands. Dry and rough like a tradesman’s. They were the first thing I noticed about you when we met. The light from the hallway glints off the large silver watch on your right wrist. It was a gift from me. I love a man wearing a good watch. The inscription on the back reads “To ‘my working week and my Sunday rest’. Always”
“Seeing you like this, kitten, so yielding and soft – it’s a revelation.” Dragging your hand across your chest to rest at the center you add, “It makes my heart ache. And it makes me very, very hard.” I let out a long sigh but otherwise manage to keep quiet. “I think you like it too, baby. I can smell you from here.” Goose bumps skitter across my skin and I whimper quietly.
You lower yourself back to a sitting position at the foot of our bed directly behind me. “Come here, kitten,” you say, patting your inner thigh. I slowly raise myself back up onto all fours and start to stand. You snap your fingers. “No. Stay low.” Instead, I turn my body and crawl the short distance to you. You touch your left foot and say, “Right here”. I lower my body and press my cheek to your bare foot, keeping my eyes downcast.
You put your left palm between my shoulder blades and slowly run it down my spine as I press into your hand. When you reach my lower back you slide your fingers right under my panties and continue moving downward. Your middle finger makes contact with my wet folds. It feels like a bolt of electricity going through me. I turn my face downward and crush my mouth against your skin to keep from crying out. It doesn’t help much.
You moan a little. “Just what I thought. So wet for me. What a good girl you are, my pristine little slut.” You slide your finger down the length of my slit and pull back before reaching my clit. “Look at me.” I watch you bring your middle finger to your lips and put the tip in your mouth. “Mmm. So sweet.”
“I’m going to spank you now, kitten. Would you like that?” Uncertainty flits across my face as my body tenses. I mean, fantasies are one thing, but I have never been spanked before. Never. You know this. My hippie parents were far too progressive. Your voice regains its edge. “This is not a negotiation. Across my lap. Now.”
I crawl up into your lap and across your spread knees. You center my ass directly over your crotch and my full torso face down on the bed. My bent knees rest on your right thigh and both my hands are pinned under your other thigh. My face is turned toward your body. You run your left hand through my hair and spread my curls behind me. “Let me see those beautiful eyes.” You rest your left hand, palm open, between my shoulder blades. Your right hand slowly lowers my panties to just below my ass cheeks. I start to tremble again.
“Shhh. Easy.” Your right hand starts to massage my ass in circles, kneading as it goes. “I’m going to spank you because of the filthy way you acted at the restaurant tonight without permission”. A few seconds pass with your hands moving over my cheeks with only our breaths disturbing the silence. “Remember the rules: Try your best to be silent and more importantly, do not move or speak.” Both our sets of eyes are on your hand. Without warning you bring it down on my right cheek with a resounding crack. I gasp as a tight stinging explodes in my body. But without a moment to adjust, a second slap hits that same cheek and one to the other. I bury my face in the comforter and release a high-pitched squeal. Somewhere in my brain a panic blooms wondering if the neighbors can hear the strikes. I had no idea they would be so loud.
It hurts. Wow, does it hurt. I almost can’t get my mind around what it feels like. It stings and then it burns. This isn’t sexy. This is genuinely painful. Your hand has gone back to massaging my ass but the pain is like an actual burn. It seems to burrow down and not dissipate. I fight the urge to get angry. I take some deep breaths and focus on the delicious weight of your hands pressing into my skin. This is what I’ve been craving my entire adult life. I’ve finally found a man who can handle me. Literally.
I must calm down. Breathe. Lean into this. Submit.
The fourth slap shocks me all over again and I close my eyes and arch my neck away. I start to squirm and struggle. Your left hand moves up to my neck as you easily pin me down.
“What did I say about not moving?” Your voice is harsh and rough, like you’ve just run a long distance. “Tying you down for this seemed a little too varsity for your first night, but push me and I’ll fucking do it,” you growl.
I turn my face back to you, no easy feat with your fist around my neck. My eyes meet yours and I gasp, but not in pain this time. I’ve never seen your body so tense. The tendons in your arms are taut and the vein in your neck is pulsing. Your bottom lip is swollen because you’ve been biting it. You are flushed. Your eyes pin me to the bed more soundly than your hands ever could and I become still immediately. I’m completely immobilized and yet I have never felt more powerful than I do in this moment. This exceptional man is about to come undone. Because of me.
“I’m so… I’m so -“. Your ragged breaths punctuate your words. “… so…. fucking…. hard.” Your hand doesn’t stop its deep massage, but you throw your eyes to the ceiling. You slowly take 8 or 10 deep breaths. I see the tension start to ebb out of your shoulders and jaw. You turn your face back down to my ass. The hand on my neck remains right where it is, but your thumb is now massaging slow circles into my flesh. Your touch feels warm and possessive. I close my eyes and luxuriate in the moment, our closeness here at the edge of something so vast.
“How many times am I going to spank you, kitten?” you ask. Your voice has lost some of its raspiness.
My eyes dart back and forth. I’m thrown by the question.
“Come on. You’re a smart woman,” you say as your right hand grips my left ass cheek tightly. “How many more times?”
Um. How about NONE? Is that an option? I look at your face, still trained on my ass. A slow smile creeps across your lips. That sexy little smirk usually appears when you think you’ve won an argument. Suddenly I understand.
“As many times as you want,” I whisper.
“That’s right,” you say with a breathy chuckle. “As many times as I want. But, you’ve been so good. I’m going to give you a reward when this is done. I think you’ll like it. I’m going to make you feel good, kitten. Really, really good.” Your hand drifts to my exposed pink pussy and you slide a finger up and down the dripping slit.
Inside my mind I’m screaming “No sounds! No sounds! No sounds!” Somehow my body actually listens.
“Yeah, I think you would like for me to make you feel good. Get some relief for this tight little pussy.”
Smack! Smack! Smack! You spank me in quick succession alternating from left to right. No time to worry if the neighbors heard them this time. My body goes rigid but I don’t cry out. This time I focus on how my silence is a gift to you and a testament to how tough I am. I need to, and in fact want to, take all you can give me. My eyes are closed as I lean into the sensation of heat rippling across my backside.
“Would you like more, kitten?” I take just a second and then nod. I hear your breath escape your mouth in a faint hiss. Three more quick cracks ring out and I growl into the bedspread beneath us.
Before I’m aware of it you have flipped me over onto my back. My ass is now pressed into your lap and your hand goes right to my panties, jerking them roughly down my legs and tossing them aside. Your hand goes to my pussy and one finger plunges in deep with your thumb pressed to my clit. You immediately start to fuck me with your hand and my own hands fly to my mouth to keep from crying out too loudly.
“So good,” you say closing your eyes briefly. “You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” You look down and see me struggling to follow the rules and remain quiet with my palms pressed to my face. That lazy smirk rears its stunningly sexy head again.
“Oh, poor kitten. Would you like my help?” You pull my hands away and clamp your own palm over my mouth. “There,” you say. “How is that? Better?” Your finger increases pace and force. Within 30 seconds I’m screaming like a little whore under your hand. You allow my hands to remain wrapped around your forearm, holding you in place.
“That’s my girl,” you murmur. My back is arched. A flush is blooming across my chest. I’m getting close. Your finger’s pace slows suddenly and my eyes fly to your face.
“It goes without saying, doesn’t it, that you are not to come without my permission?” I nod emphatically. Anything, so long as you don’t stop working my pussy with your incredible hand.
You go back to work, albeit a bit less forcefully than before.
“Is this what you had in mind, kitten? Is this what you were craving?” Your words only barely register through the haze of my own pleasure and moans in time with your thrusts. “Begging me to dominate you? Take control. I knew you would be magnificent. I was right. Fuck, look at you. I’ve never seen you like this. So wild.” I am bucking under your hand now with my lower body writhing. My eyes are unfocused and my nose is filled with the scent of your skin and our sweat.
“A heavy hand and a filthy mouth. That’s all you needed, right?” You slide a second finger into me. You slow the thrusts, curl your fingers upward and give me a handful of long, deep and lurid strokes. My muffled response is lost behind your palm. Looking at my face you see my eyes, huge and pleading.
“Is there something you’d like to ask me, baby?” you say innocently. I nod and you remove your hand from my mouth, using it instead to brush the hair from my face.
Still gasping for breath I stammer “May I – May I please come? Oh, please.” The last word is drawn out slowly, like a hymn.
You smile at me. “How can I resist such a perfectly worded request? Yes. Yes you may. But no more silence, kitten. I want to hear every bit of it.” With that your two fingers shift into overdrive and plunge in and out of me. Your left hand slides gently around my neck. I’m crying out and begging you to finish me off. My hands are in fists at my sides.
“Please! Oh, please! Don’t stop! I’ll be good, just please don’t stop!” I cry. You move you hand from my neck down to my abdomen and press gently down against your fingers thrusting from below. The sounds from my mouth quickly degrade into something less than formal speech.
“Unf…. oh, oh, oh, please! Please!” as my legs start to pull up toward my chest.
“Always so polite, even now, kitten. It gets me so fucking hot when you say please. Say it again,” you demand.
“P- p- plea – Oh, oh yes! Please!” My body starts to shudder and I reach down to hold your wrist as it continues to furiously pump in and out through my orgasm. Little bird sounds come from my parted lips. I try to back away from you knowing how sensitive my clit is immediately after I come.
“Please! Enough… no, stop,” I beg.
The hand on my belly flies to the nape of my neck where it fists into my hair and jerks my head back. You swing your body out from under mine and move to straddle me – essentially covering my body on all fours like a cage. You move your face very close to mine. Your fingers buried inside me haven’t missed a beat.
“Did you just tell me no?” you growl into my face.
“Please,” I cry still desperately clutching at your wrist and trying to slow your pounding hand. “I just meant -.”
You cut me off. “I’m not finished with you yet. And, I make the rules.” The hand in my hair pulls back and my body goes with it arching as far as my spine will allow. “I say you’re going to come for me again. Now. I own these orgasms. They are mine. Say it.”
My eyes are darting around. I have no idea where to look or what to do. I feel panic about to set in. I feel completely out of control. And I can feel the burning starting in my thighs: the slow burn of the second orgasm. You hold my head still directly under yours.
“Look at me. Look! Look at me.” I try to focus on your face, so familiar and safe even with your eyes so wild. But this loss of control is a dangerous place for me. I always protect myself from it. “I am your center. Focus on me.” I look up and focus on you, my ever fixed mark.
“Please,” I breathe.
But you are ferocious. “Who owns your pleasure? I want to hear you say it.” Your face is less than an inch from mine.
The twitching and burning is rising up and moving closer to your hand assaulting my little wet hole. I’m whimpering. You press your forehead to mine and gently whisper: “Say it, baby. Relent.”
The words, torn from someplace deep within me, burst out. “They’re yours. It’s all yours, ok? Please!”
“Come.”
Wild, guttural sounds erupt from me. It isn’t refined or delicate. This orgasm is feral, primal, and it rolls on and on. Wet, slurping sounds come from between my legs as your pace slows. I am lost. Limp. My tight little pussy flutters around your fingers. Your own breathing is harsh. You pull your fingers from me slowly, always delighting in the small sigh that escapes me at that moment. My body continues to shudder. You bring your glistening fingers up to your face and through my heavy eyes I see you take a long smell. Your eyes meet mine and you bring your hand to my mouth, brushing the back of your knuckles lightly across my full bottom lip and leaving my sheen behind. You bring your hand down to my breasts and wipe your fingers across my chest, leaving a long trail. You pinch my nipple as you pull away to rise up to your knees, still straddling me.
“What a fucking mess you are kitten. Look at you. That was filthy,” you muse out loud. “What am I going to do with you, baby?”
My eyes find yours and I reply quietly and without hesitation: “Anything that pleases you, Sir.”
The world freezes. Both of us are as still as stones with neither of us breathing. I’ve done it. I am all in and you are now ‘Sir.’ What feels like an eternity passes. All I can hear is the tick-tick-tick of your watch and your breath turning ragged again. Eventually you chuckle darkly, dragging your fingers across your mouth. Reaching for your belt you say “Oh, sweet girl. I am going to ruin you tonight.”
In that moment I know one thing for certain: You have done this before.