Target Practice
Friday night and the Minx came out to play again.
I had already decided what I wanted. Spent the best part of an hour getting the bedroom and myself prepared. Now, fully prepped, I returned to him in the sitting room with our forgotten ‘lover’s chequebook’ we had cast aside many, many moons ago from our first year together. I dropped it into his lap as I strolled back to put the finishing touches to our bed.
Fill out three by the time I get back.
I already knew one of which he would choose. Upon returning to him, he had dutifully filled in the details.
PAY: Dirty Little Lady
I promise to let you tie me up
You have to admit, that’s pretty cute. The choice of value is already filled out for you, you just have to sign it off. A second read:
PAY: Miss [P]
I promise to let you have sex with me wherever you choose.
“Wherever I choose”? Now that is very tempting. I am holding onto that one for a summery day.
The third was left open as to the value – One for me to ponder over. I intended to cash in on the first cheque this night. I had already set up the transaction in pre-emptiveness.
I told him to go and have a shower then wait for me in the bedroom. I wanted him to stew a little. The bindings lay over the pillows, tied one end to the metal frame. A few other options draped over the end of the bed - a short length of black silk we use as a blindfold, another two scarves and the tasseled whip. Just to get the apprehension going. I continued to potter in the other room. Flicking through emails. Wittering on Twitter. I am not addicted. I think. After I heard him exit the bathroom and complied with his second instruction, I added another fifteen minutes to his arduous wait. Only then I thought about getting up and moved to the kitchen. I knew he could hear me as I padded into the next room. I knew he heard the freezer door open and shut as I removed the ice and let several cubes fall conspicuously into a bowl. It’s a distinctive sound. By this time my own senses were sharpening up. Mostly touch. The temperature of the ice reminded me that I should start out a little friendly at least and I left the bowl in the kitchen. Ready just in case it was required. I continued to draw out his wait as I moved to the bathroom myself. Mostly to preen unnecessarily and touch up the eyeliner. Not that he’d see much of it anyway after his sight was darkened by the blindfold. But I like to make a memorable entrance.
For this I had also filled out a cheque for him.
PAY: The Gorgeous One
I promise to seduce you while wearing my La Senza & Agent Provocateur lingerie.
I was bringing out the silk and the lace. Full battle-mode. Command and Conquer. [Yes, I did just type that. Yes, I know how it sounds]
He was within my sights. Time to take aim.
I knew he would be naked, but that initial sight of entering a room to be faced with a nude man face down on my bed caught me off-guard. His pale skin stood out from the dark red of the linen. A beautiful contrast between the light and dark; his deshabillé to my lingerie. I tried not to let my slip-up in concentration show. Moving over to him, I grabbed at his buttocks and gave them a light spank – well, they were there, asking for it. I lay next to him fleetingly, pressing against the length of his body. As I ran my hands down his back I felt him shiver under my touch. The ice’s frozen kiss still lingered on my fingers.
I turned him over, levering using his shoulders. His mind must have been filled with all the dirty possibilities those cheques held, for he was all beautifully aroused and hard for me. Funny how your eyes are drawn to prominent objects. Without saying a word, I drew my gaze directly to his eyes and swooped over to straddle him. Hands straight into his hair, I grabbed hold of it as I gave him a deep, breathy kiss. I slipped my hand down to caress the side of his cheek before trailing along his arm to grasp at his wrist that was busy in my own hair sending me delirious with how he toyed with my strands. Here I was positioned in one of my most beloved poses/moves. Lying on top of him, I took his two wrists firmly in hand and drew them above his head. As I did so, the movement equally drew my face closer to his own until I was millimetres from contact. I like the sense of challenge and intimidation this position has.
I thought I would try out something new, something he has done with me a while back, but I had yet to explore. I intimated I wanted him turned onto his front to expose his back. One after the other, I took his hands in my own and brought it to rest on his back, just above his buttocks. Mock-arrest style. Utterly divine image. Coiling a length of black satin sash around his wrists, I bound them together. My breathing had already started to grow haggard. I attempted to compose myself once again. This was going to be a challenge for me as well.
After the final touch of the blindfold, we were both highly attune to every movement by the other. He by my position within the bedroom, and I to his little flickers and shivers his body betrayed to me. I opened up the evening with a few light spanks and even lighter trailings of my nails down his flanks. He was behaving well, responding appropriately to the attention, making all the right noises.
I stepped up a gear and took hold of the tasseled whip. It’s a hard thing to wield correctly. For me at any rate. I can’t seem to aim it as well as Mister does. Inevitably after a few swipes at his flesh, I missed my mark by quite a way.
I was not impressed by his response to this.
He dared to laugh. At Me.
Not a very wise thing to do. My reproach seemed amusing to him also. Again. Not A Wise Thing To Do.
How dare you? Right. You asked for this.
I walked out furious at his audacity. The ice would be playing a major role in tonight’s performance. Time for some targeted punishment.
Raising the Stakes pt. 2
For Part one, see post below. Oh, go on. I enjoyed writing it.
***
I was in a state of utter submission. Mentally as well as physically. He had so nearly broken me and there was little else left to hide. Or so I thought.
Still tied, face down with my limbs drawn out X-style to the bedposts, my breathing had become deep and protracted. It was the last vestige of any control I could have over myself as he imposed himself expertly with the tasseled whip and with his palm. And teeth. No, I mustn’t be forgetting his bites. On my neck; on my shoulders; on my buttocks. Once quite sharply that made me yelp a little. I had retreated into myself and my main focus was to channel my thoughts into breathing slowly so the sting wouldn’t become too much. It wasn’t pain. I won’t call it that. Pain, for me isn’t a good thing. Pain infers no acknowledgement of the other person. One-sided and purely sadistic. He knew what he was doing to me. He did it for mutual benefit. He made me ache. He made my skin burn and glow. Tingle with desire. Pain, never.
What he did next was to remove that last, singular act of control I had. He made my breathing go wild. He, aptly, raised the stakes. Pausing in his actions, I was dimly aware that he had moved away from the bed. You have to understand that I was quite lost by now. My hands loosened their grasp slightly from the bedframe and I attempted to shift my head over in his direction only to be met with my dark hair clouding my vision. Peering through the strands I was just in time to see him return to the bed with something in his hand. I couldn’t tell what, although I was certain it was a toy. But which one? I felt him place it between my legs, resting there, not touching my skin. Just there for safe-keeping.
…what have you got there?
I managed at least to growl out a few words.
You’ll soon find out.
He had yet to take full advantage of my exposure. His spanking and whipping had had their desired effect and I was well and truly aroused. Twice the tassels had strayed to my pussy and caught my clitoris. *Eek!* that did sting. It was sharp and yes, painful. He recognised it was too much for me and didn’t go there again. Not content with the heightened state I was already in, Mister took things to another level by introducing some tingly lube to the equation. This was the Durex Play brand and, whilst mild, worked a treat. Its tingle took a few seconds to register after application and then I was right back there grasping at my restraints and twisting.
Here was the trump card. If he gets his hands anywhere near my clit, my breathing will start to change. It becomes stilted, uneven when he pushes me beyond my normal boundaries. He toyed, he played, literally had me wrapped round his fingers. He knows which movement will make me gasp this way, and which other flicks will make me moan deeply. When he got me to this stage, he brought in the little friend that was lying between my legs, waiting for its chance to shine.
I gathered as much that it was something to penetrate, but other than that I still was unsure. Then it clicked. It wasn’t hard, like my vibrator, and it was too long to be my little buzzing bullet. Other than that, all we have is….ah. Clever boy. He had brought out the New Toy. My heart leapt in excitement as well as anxiety.
You see, the other month, I saw fit to explore a new avenue of toy. An area we hadn’t yet been to. I bought a few anal toys. To be precise, a butt plug, a little vibrator and a jelly-like pliable and soft double-ended probey thing. It was this third little beauty Mister had decided to break me in with. This is about 5 inches and at one end has four little nodules of ascending size with the other, longer end designed for something deeper. This end was currently being very slowly and deliberately thrust in and out of my pussy. And doing a damn fine job of it (I am a bit of a cock-lover and anything that penetrates will have me in throes very quickly). My voice was low and purring, it was a nice change to the fast paced clitoral stimulation a few minutes ago. Then, of course, the devil, he increased pace with this until my body was awash with flowerings of intense exhilaration. I felt the tingling through my every fibre. To remind me of where things stood, every now and then Mister added a little spank.
He stopped. I knew he was thinking, deliberating about the next obvious step. Noticeably absent, he had removed the toy from my wet folds. Then I felt it. Lightly at first, he began to run the other end up to where we had never really ventured properly with intention before. I was still a little tense, despite everything he had done to break my will, my head was still able to be in a place where I realised that, woah, this is new and different and do I really want to go there? Do I want him to go there? I mean, sure we’ve talked about it and thi….Oh yeah, ooh, that’s actually kinda nice, I wish he’d be a bit braver with it and push in a little fur…ah, there he goes.
Breakthrough!
Mister explored the anal with Pandorah. And It Was Good. Huzzah! Let the choir sing! I was flooded with mixed emotions – relief, excitement of the giggly kind (he’s stuck something up my arse! Teehee!) a tinge of humiliation as well as pure, utter warm and fuzzy loving pleasure. It swamped me. It floored me. Sure it was a little odd; unused to something being There. But it wasn’t bad. Oh No. To double up the happy place I was in, he added his fingers to the mix and carried on flicking my clit with his thumb at the same time as having his fingers inside me.
What I ultimately crave for is him, his cock, inside me. By the time he got round to it, we had been going for well over an hour and a quarter, maybe longer – which is a lot for us to spend on foreplay. Although is it really fair to say that what we had just been through wasn’t technically ’sex’? From where I was lying, I had been pretty much fucked.
Later, looking back as he held me, my shuddering frame trembling from interspersed aftershocks, I noted how, during our exploration, he on and off checked in on how I was, whether it was comfortable for me. Conscientious is a word I’m not overly keen on. It brings to mind school reports I had as a younger girl. But tonight it was a word that echoed in my head as I thought about what he had just done to me. For me. Mister is a passionate lover, a forceful and determined one too. He is also always, always caring of me and loving.
This is what makes the both of us Belong to one another. That trust I feel when I’m with him, what I can feel safe having done by him. What he feels comfortable allowing me to do to him, too.
It was a great hand he played there. I think I should go for the long game more often.
Raising the Stakes pt.1
I’d already lost the bet, so why not take things a little further, I thought. Get him to seal the deal. My luck always changes in cards when I start betting. I knew this. I exploited it.
I leaned into him, to avoid my voice from being heard by the other people in the bar.
How about this: I win the next hand and you get to tie my wrists.
His eye twinkled at this thought.
And if I win?
If you win, you get to tie my wrists…and ankles.
He’d already won the chance to give me a spanking I’d not forget in a hurry. His choice of reward after I decided upon introducing a bit more excitement to the game we were playing. I was doing rather well up until that point. For some unknown reason, it has become a noticed occurrence that whenever we start betting, I inevitably lose. This time, however, although I lost at the cards, I won in the long game.
We walked home a little faster than normal – the cold not the only reason we wanted to be back inside the warmth of our home. Hands slid downwards on backs; eyes glanced upwards (for me at least); he was wearing that wicked glint I love to catch him with. Before too long we were in and I jumped into the shower to warm up my skin, a blistering flash of water to awaken my flesh and to prepare it for what I sensed was going to be a long time out, above the covers. I hate being cold when we’re meant to be sizzling together.
I was given a taste of his mood for the rest of the evening when, after I had moisturised up after my shower, I leaned against the doorframe of the living room I received a cold direction from him.
Go and wait in the bedroom.
Nothing more than that. His eyes were steely, staring intently. It’s not often that he takes that tone with me and when he does it hastily makes me retreat into myself. I felt myself physically shrink back at his words. There was nothing to do but obey with that simple directive. I went and I waited. Still in my towel to retain my heat, I curled up on the bed and listened to his movements in the other room. I heard the door to the balcony (yes we have a balcony!) open and close – he was smoking outside before he would come in to me. I knew that gave me about three or four minutes to gather my thoughts. Should I get anything ready for him? The toys? No, better let him make the decisions.
When he came into the bedroom something in me was hesitant to look up to meet his glance. Damn, he’s good at this game.
Still in your towel? You better take it off and turn over. Face down.
So, there was to be no preamble. Straight to it. I couldn’t wait. As I moved, he went over to the wardrobe and took out his ’supplies’. Four lengths of various ropes, scarves and our longer blindfold which were to be my restraints for the night. They stayed there, after this night, for two days. I liked seeing them there – reminding me of this night. Upon seeing the blindfold I asked if I was going to be restricted completely.
No, not tonight. I want to see your face. I want to see your reactions in full.
One by one, he teased out my limbs and stretched them over to each corner of the bed where he had attached one end of the individual ropes. As is usual, my hesitancy continued when he began moving my legs apart to complete the deal. That level of exposure – my pussy open to him in full view. It made me anxious, vulnerable. He could smell the scent of my moisturiser – I consciously chose the one that gets him all heady. Joining that, undoubtedly, was the rising scent of my arousal as I started to get wet in anticipation. I tested how well he had restrained me – I wouldn’t want to disappoint him by escaping. After all his hard work. Just enough give to wriggle and writhe. I was to be grateful for that leeway later.
As I relaxed back into the linen, my head nestled between the two sets of pillows he set on me with immediate venom. Certainly, there was to be no preamble, I thought after the sting. The tassled whip had been brought out over my buttocks, about four welts-worth. The shock was vivid enough for me to grab onto my wrist-ties. I could feel him now, as he likes to do, bending down over me, leaning in to the nape of my neck, that presence, that masculine presence of his over me. One deep kiss of my neck was followed by a harsh bite into my shoulder before he quickly raised himself up and brought the whip back down onto my skin. This time twice on the arse, followed by two sharp stings to the shoulders.
I had forgotten that I said he could branch out from just spanking, whipping etc my arse. I remembered that I had mentioned he could explore my shoulders too. Then I remembered the other places I told him he could extend his wrath to.
The heat of the whip’s bite pulsed through my thighs as he tested out the rest of my body. I didn’t know where he would strike next. That delicious sense of unknowing, powerless, helplessness flooded me and I gave in to the feelings, the sensations – his sting coupled with his loving embraces. He would always follow a series of blasts with a tender phase of strokings, kisses and the lighter spanking of his hand.
I had been reduced to a hub of sensation, my higher thinking skills had been flung out of the window. All I could do was anticipate, react and enjoy everything he was doing to me. I showed my enthusiasm through my moans and stilted gasps, my writhing responses and with my blissed out expressions.
I was to experience a further raising of stakes of his own devising very soon.
Bringing Kink Back
I was bound.
Bound and face down on the bed.
Bound, face down and naked. I was horny as hell. And I was smiling. He just couldn’t see it, my head between the pillows.
I could feel the heat permeating up through my body. He’d tied my wrists together and knotted the blue cord to the metal bedframe. One of my greater pervertible creations – an old dressing gown tie. Long and strong, it was also kind on my skin. Which was handy as Mister was going to make me strain against the binds that held me. He was going to make me pull the cord but it wasn’t going to give way like others we’ve used.
With my eyes closed, I waited and listened to hear what he would bring to the bed. He was rustling about our collection of boxes and bags we keep squirrelled away. I had already told him that I was his tonight. That I was to be used however he wished.
My mind wandered whilst I waited. The last time we brought the kink out, I was in the driving seat. I had explored the kitchen utensils for the first time with him. Jointly, we had made the executive decision that wooden spatula = good, but small wooden round-headed hard spoon = not good for smacky Mister time (I think it has something to do with the spread of impact of the spatula versus the centralised force of the spoon). I got a little carried away.
Apparently.
I thought it was jolly good fun.
He brought me soon out of my reverie with a bang. He had chosen the tassly whip. Such a good choice. As it passed over the flesh of my buttocks, the initial sting had to be soon suppressed as he delivered another, better-aimed blow across my skin. The first flinch amused him – I could hear the slight exhalation that I could imagine was accompanied with a smile. After each series of blows he smoothed them over with his warm hands, soothing out each welt almost. He focused on my arse to begin with before surprising me by aiming a hit over my left shoulder-blade. He had never done that before. He was taking a leaf out of my book.
By this time the arousal I had built up was tangible. I felt as though I was exuding waves of heat from my skin – from the welts, from my sex. Even before he had started, the anticipation had made me wet, now he was in his stride I was extremely slick, I could feel the moisture dripping between my labia. He, of course, upped the game and began to make me squirm further by moving his finger to toy with my lips. Dipping in and out of my pussy, up to my clitoris. Here was where he really worked his mischief. Alternating between swipes with the whip, he lightly brushed against my clit, quickly wiggling just the tip of his finger for a few seconds – enough to make me moan and gasp – before rushing away to spank my arse. He did this a few times and then I started to growl. I needed more. But I was in no situation to complain. He could have stopped at any moment to spite me and there wasn’t anything I could do. My hands were preventing me from it.
It wasn’t long until he too felt that the urge which I had being enduring for what seemed like an age become unbearable. He momentarily left to gather for himself a condom to return and enter me from a much missed position – me face down, legs slightly apart as his own straddled me. His cock pushed in – little resistance met either mentally or physically from me. He had plied me well for his intentions. I imagined he would thrust away until the inevitable result, but once more he had a trick up his sleeve.
He stopped and started. After a few delicious thrusts he withdrew to kiss and bite down on the back of my neck then plunging back within me. By this time I was completely lost, my low moans gradually building in pitch, fervour and speed. Breathing ragged, he pulled at my long dark tresses causing my back to arch up to meet him.
Needless to say he had me coming within moments.
***
As we rested, he and I, my breathing gently returning to its normal pace, I realised I hadn’t even noticed I was still tied to the bed. With an appealing glance to him he carefully released my wrists. Yet I didn’t move them from their position for a few moments.
I’m a natural submissive, although I am quietly eager for my turn to hunt around and rustle through the bags and boxes.
