The Deal Is Struck
Games are fun to play, aren’t they? For me they are. Especially if they involve anything sexual with Mister.
We spent today lounging around, my friend who had stayed overnight had left us and so it was just the two of us once more. He had recently showered and that always will perk me right up into the naughtier side of things. That fresh smell of washed Man, the wet hair he will possess, coupled with the clean clothes – I don’t know, it just catches me unawares sometimes and I find myself wrapped around him somehow. Hands running all over his body. Treating him like a piece of meat ready to be devoured by the Minx. Can’t help it. He’s irresistible.
Alone again, I drew him to me, kissed his neck and ran my fingers through his damp hair. He told me I was a naughty LadyP to which I promptly asked him what it was, exactly, that made my actions ‘naughty’. I was only loving him, after all. Seems to me to be the most innocent, natural thing for me to do. I pulled him into me as we lay on the bed and touched his chest, bracing my palm against him. Nothing wrong with this at all in my view.
It felt as though it was going to be a long day for me to try and resist him long enough to get anything done without jumping on him.
We went out. Looked around an old castle (very riveting, I hadn’t been since I was a little girl with my older sister and I love old buildings, the architecture and the history). That seemed to occupy my mind for a couple of hours.
We then returned home, watched the last half hour of an old film that was playing on Film4 (The Riddle of the Sands, if curious) before I noticed Mister was looking slightly sleepy. We had had a busy weekend partying (brilliant fun catching up with old friends) and a late, fitful night in which he had woken up far too early for one who was not working the following morning. With complete honesty I told him ‘You need a nap’. Taking both his hands in mine, I gestured for him to follow me to the bedroom. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, to which I simply repeated my last statement. He didn’t need much persuading. He did look tired.
Once there, I cuddled into him as is my custom when wanting to sleep. I noticed he didn’t move much. Almost as if he was thinking intently. Turned out he was.
You want to have sex with me.
What?!
You brought me to bed so that you could have sex with me, didn’t you? It felt like an accusation. Like he had caught me out or something.
No, I honestly think you need a nap, and as I am sleepy too, it’s an excuse to cuddle up to you. I meant it.
You could, you know.
What?
Have sex with me.
I don’t want to. Not now that you will think that I have been plotting to get you into bed.
Silence.
I wouldn’t even want to give you a lazy handjob as you might accuse me of it.
More silence.
You could give me a blowjob?
What? He knows that to order me to do so can sometimes put me right off it. I don’t quite know why.
I wouldn’t want to give you a blowjob for exactly the same reason as the handjob. I could tell that all this talk of sex and getting Mister off was having an effect. The duvet was slightly raised.
What about you give me a blowjob…and tonight I’ll do something extra special for you?
Silence once more.
Like I tie you up. On the bed. Or tie you to the door. He was thinking on his feet.
My breathing noticeably altered at this proposition. It heightened, became shallow in thought and titillation. He did notice.
Like bribery? You would blackmail me into giving you a blowjob? The incredulity was evident in my tone.
Yes.
That is not what giving you a blowjob is about. I protested. It should be about me wanting to give you one, not because you think I was bribed into it. I was getting a little torn at this point. I have been craving him shackle me up lately, but at the cost of letting him think it was as an obligation to him? I was undecided.
You know I would take great pleasure in getting you turned on. I may think about letting you wear your new suspenders. I might even spank you.
Thinking time.
How? I wanted to lead him on a little now, to see what he would give. Just out of curiosity.
With my hand. He noticed the silence. Or maybe something else. The whip if I can find it.
I knew exactly where it was in the cupboard.
You know I would get you so very wet.
He was completely, utterly, hopelessly correct.
I looked up at him from where my head had been resting on him shoulder throughout this whole exchange. I kissed him, saw into his eyes and recognised that look of eagerness. I knew he would stay true to his word. He was desperate for me to go down on him now, his eyes were wanting. That look of tenderness, tinged slightly with the look of the Rogue I love.
That kiss might just as well have been a handshake, for now I sit here, desperate myself for the evening to come so that he, too, will uphold his end of the deal, as I have upheld mine. Valiantly, and with flair, might I add.
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.
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.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.
