Target Practice Part 2
Just a heads up, I sound like a real bitch at the start of this piece.
The rage inside me had started to peak. How silly of him to challenge me. He was in no position at all to get away with such liberties. His back was practically a blank canvas for me to vent some steam. He had laughed. Giggled. Smirked even, when I missed my mark with the tasseled whip. I saw his body convulse. Not in recoil from the leather, not in reaction to the sting. But with amused chortles. My eyes narrowed. I leaned in to whisper right by his ear in a low growl, toying with his skin as I did so.
You shouldn’t have done that. You will regret this.
I left his body raking my nails swiftly down his back as I went, repairing to the kitchen where the ice cubes were waiting. Preparation is my middle name when needs be. I would have to sacrifice my own comfort as well. The ice would make my fingers cold. Something I detest. But, it was for the greater good. He needed to learn a lesson. Never insult LadyP. Ever.
I promptly placed about four cubes along his spine. Just to make my point clear. Another went to the top of his buttocks, resting just above the cleft so the chill water would melt down inbetween his cheeks. My hand went to his hair and dragged his head back up to meet my sneer.
You asked for this.
Which is technically true. He was the one who filled out the cheque wanting to be tied up. He was the one who surely knew that making fun of me, when in control-mode, would not have a bright outcome. And he wasn’t protesting. I heard the hiss of his breath as the ice met his skin. It was not one discomfort and ‘bad’ pain. His body contorted mildly as the ice hit its mark, yet again he did not howl in a way that would have let me know he wasn’t happy with this.
I don’t know why I’m trying to justify my actions. This is us. Take it or leave it. This is what rocks our world. Once in a blue moon. We don’t do this every time we fuck. And we don’t go in for the ‘no fucking when dominating’ view. No point. For us. We do this because it gets both of us off and after I had untied him, cradled him in my arms, he came back from the ashes and blazed anew. With a stronger flame.
Always my downfall, untying him. I lose my control when he has his hands free. But here is when, arguably, he does his best dominating. It’s almost as if he’s reasserting his masculinity and will go the extra mile to show me that, Now it’s His Turn. He will be all sexed-up from my attention to him, the heavy-breathing and beautiful erection, heated passions flaring and it will be channelled at me, the source of his fervour. I caused it, now I better deal with the consequences. Now he’s the one with all the desire and raging lust. He takes me and it is just that – possessing me, reclaiming me as his, not the other way around.
At this point that night, the hair grasping began. He pulled. Much like I had done to him. He pulled me backward by the hair close to him. The mild aura of threat about him, he was positioned behind me and held me down as he dipped his fingers inside me. I was completely aroused by everything earlier and his switching on me had tipped me over. I was very wet. He slipped two fingers in and out effortlessly, gathering speed, adding his thumb to my clit. Making me pant like some wild thing. His other hand roved between holding my hair and generally taking advantage of my body. Reaching under me to touch my breasts and pinch my nipples then moving down to squeeze my buttocks and give them a good few deep spanks. Not the light and quick, playful ones. These were spanks of meaning. Each hit landed his hand stayed there for a few seconds, grabbing at my flesh before returning for another.
I was lost in sub-space far too quickly. He’s too good at this. I was dimly aware he had reached out for the condom and was manoeuvring my frame around him. I came to my senses and pulled my body over his and straddled him. My hair fell about my shoulders in disarray, over my eyes and onto his skin as I leaned in close to him to meet him with a kiss. Taking little nips at his lips as I went, I lost myself once more to the rocking of our two bodies together and it wasn’t long before we both were in that other mindset of pleasure.
Sometimes good things do come of mistakes. I may have missed my mark, but we both hit the right spot together afterwards. It also gives me that opportunity to have another go at sharpening up my aim in the future.
Darkness Falls
As the night thickened around us, the rain lashing against the window sill, wind howling, there was no possibility of going for a walk that evening down to the pub. Staying at his parents’ for the night, back in his old room my head flooded with the memories of past encounters in the dark.
Out there, in the house by the sea, there are no street-lamps to filter in through the curtains. The stars are at their most impressive – the Milky Way is breath-taking – and of course, when the lights go out you have absolute blackness. An absence of light. Being back in that room where some of my first explorations into the delicious world of debauchery he that brought me; that we both explored for the first time together my head swam.
The Saturday film had ended and we were both snuggled under the duvet together in the single bed – Ah! another fond memory – I had already removed some clothing to ease things along. As he walked over to turn out the light, the rest of my clothes followed and my limbs called out to his body and wrapped themselves around his legs, welcoming him back to the warmth of the bed, and me.
I’m not quite certain why, or what causes it, but the lack of light seems to get me worked up very easily. Perhaps the knowledge that he can’t see my next move coming, or the delicious grin that paints my face as I find my mood is being rewarded by his body’s reaction is what makes this act of darkness so enjoyable.
Soon I am over him, my hair falling about, trailing over his chest, neck – it gets everywhere these days – as I kiss my way up to his lips, licking along his jaw to nip at his earlobe then back down to his shoulder, my teeth grazing lightly over his collar-bone. By this time I am astride him, my body pressing into his, my thighs gently pincering his own. With one hand I support myself on the bedframe, my arm close against his head, enclosing him, a claustrophobic air of certainty of no escape – he won’t be going anywhere fast. He’s mine.
We moved through the phrases to reach our end and the storm that raged outside had its mirrored passion reflected within this room.
Or so I hope to think.
It’s refreshing to relive the good memories.
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.
