that I screwed up so early on but I cast that thought aside as a lesson learned. “Yes Master.”
I peek up through my damp lashes as he takes two long steps back and stands to observe me. I’m just about to reach for my breasts when his thick voice commands, “Stop. Lose the panties.”
On autopilot I slide my thumbs into the delicate waistband and slide the lace down and off my legs. Without looking I discard them in the pile near my dress. I stare into his eyes, so full of lust. Gorgeous.
“Kneel for me.”
I lower down to my knees, never breaking eye contact. The slick wood feels cool against my shins.
“Lace your fingers behind your lower back.”
As soon as I thread them together, he says, “Now spread those knees out wide and arch your back forward.”
I start to hesitate, embarrassed by how exposed I will be, but my discomfort is outweighed by the desire to both please him and avoid punishment. Within seconds I’m positioned and awaiting his command.
With arms crossed he towers over me, looking gigantic. A frisson of fear creeps down my spine . Relax, you trust him, Elora.
“This is a position that pleases me very much. When I ask for you to present yourself to me, this is what I’m looking for from my sub. Do you understand, min skjønne ?”
“Yes, Master.”
He watches me as if studying a complex object. In measured words he tells me, “It’s not for you to decide what you need, what you want during play, ever. I make all those choices for you. Are we clear on this?”
“Very, Master. Yes.”
“Good. Now release your hands and fondle those gorgeous tits for me now, Elora. I want to see what gets you wet.”
I do my best to be seductive, sliding my fingers slowly up my ribcage, coming to a stop as the warmth fills both palms. I give a light squeeze against the fullness and feel my nipples tighten in arousal. Did I ever notice these subtle responses before? It must be because I’m under his watchful gaze.
Delicately, I tweak and roll each rosy bud. The response is immediate as dampness floods my already aching sex. My mouth parts and a slow moan escapes. I try to focus on him; his breathing is deeper, his chest pumping up and down in strong pulls. So sexy. God, let him take me soon. This is torture!
“Lower your right hand. Touch that little pussy. Show me what gets you off.”
Yes!
I sway a bit as my middle finger slides down to connect with my throbbing little clit. Does he want me to make myself come? I will and soon if this keeps up.
His voice, nearly guttural, grates out, “Fuck yeah, baby. That’s so it. Rub that wetness all around your perfection. Make it really wet for Master’s tongue ’cause I’m gonna lick that sweet cunt clean.”
Oh. My. God. Who knew a filthy mouth could be such a damned turn on?
“Mmm, ohh ….” I can’t resist the animalistic sounds that are coming from my throat. I bear down lower on my legs and slide a finger up into my eager sex. I pump twice into the drenched folds as I twist harder on my left nipple. So good … mmm, yeah ….
“Stop.” Hard. Direct. Inflexible.
What? No way!
My spine tenses at the harsh command and immediately I remove both hands. I can’t help but fall forward, palms on the floor, panting from the intensity of my arousal … and frustrating denial.
“Get up and move over to the swing, like my good girl.”
On shaky legs, I do as he says and once I’m there, I watch him closely for clues as to whether or not I’m pleasing him. He excels at regimented control, but I can see that all of his muscles, from his neck to his perfectly carved biceps, are straining hard. He’s trying to keep his lust well contained . I’ve never seen such control.
He murmurs deeply, “Sit down and recline against the back. Once you find a comfortable position, you’re not allowed to move.”
“Okay.”
He freezes solid, eyes tightening into tight slashes.
“I mean, yes, Master.”
Damn. Close call.
As soon as I’m
I peek up through my damp lashes as he takes two long steps back and stands to observe me. I’m just about to reach for my breasts when his thick voice commands, “Stop. Lose the panties.”
On autopilot I slide my thumbs into the delicate waistband and slide the lace down and off my legs. Without looking I discard them in the pile near my dress. I stare into his eyes, so full of lust. Gorgeous.
“Kneel for me.”
I lower down to my knees, never breaking eye contact. The slick wood feels cool against my shins.
“Lace your fingers behind your lower back.”
As soon as I thread them together, he says, “Now spread those knees out wide and arch your back forward.”
I start to hesitate, embarrassed by how exposed I will be, but my discomfort is outweighed by the desire to both please him and avoid punishment. Within seconds I’m positioned and awaiting his command.
With arms crossed he towers over me, looking gigantic. A frisson of fear creeps down my spine . Relax, you trust him, Elora.
“This is a position that pleases me very much. When I ask for you to present yourself to me, this is what I’m looking for from my sub. Do you understand, min skjønne ?”
“Yes, Master.”
He watches me as if studying a complex object. In measured words he tells me, “It’s not for you to decide what you need, what you want during play, ever. I make all those choices for you. Are we clear on this?”
“Very, Master. Yes.”
“Good. Now release your hands and fondle those gorgeous tits for me now, Elora. I want to see what gets you wet.”
I do my best to be seductive, sliding my fingers slowly up my ribcage, coming to a stop as the warmth fills both palms. I give a light squeeze against the fullness and feel my nipples tighten in arousal. Did I ever notice these subtle responses before? It must be because I’m under his watchful gaze.
Delicately, I tweak and roll each rosy bud. The response is immediate as dampness floods my already aching sex. My mouth parts and a slow moan escapes. I try to focus on him; his breathing is deeper, his chest pumping up and down in strong pulls. So sexy. God, let him take me soon. This is torture!
“Lower your right hand. Touch that little pussy. Show me what gets you off.”
Yes!
I sway a bit as my middle finger slides down to connect with my throbbing little clit. Does he want me to make myself come? I will and soon if this keeps up.
His voice, nearly guttural, grates out, “Fuck yeah, baby. That’s so it. Rub that wetness all around your perfection. Make it really wet for Master’s tongue ’cause I’m gonna lick that sweet cunt clean.”
Oh. My. God. Who knew a filthy mouth could be such a damned turn on?
“Mmm, ohh ….” I can’t resist the animalistic sounds that are coming from my throat. I bear down lower on my legs and slide a finger up into my eager sex. I pump twice into the drenched folds as I twist harder on my left nipple. So good … mmm, yeah ….
“Stop.” Hard. Direct. Inflexible.
What? No way!
My spine tenses at the harsh command and immediately I remove both hands. I can’t help but fall forward, palms on the floor, panting from the intensity of my arousal … and frustrating denial.
“Get up and move over to the swing, like my good girl.”
On shaky legs, I do as he says and once I’m there, I watch him closely for clues as to whether or not I’m pleasing him. He excels at regimented control, but I can see that all of his muscles, from his neck to his perfectly carved biceps, are straining hard. He’s trying to keep his lust well contained . I’ve never seen such control.
He murmurs deeply, “Sit down and recline against the back. Once you find a comfortable position, you’re not allowed to move.”
“Okay.”
He freezes solid, eyes tightening into tight slashes.
“I mean, yes, Master.”
Damn. Close call.
As soon as I’m
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