hot drip

He pushed her firmly back to sit in the chair. The cold metal pressed into her heated flesh.
A simple chair, heavy and anchored to the ground by its weight.

Her legs were open wide, she dare not close them, his instruction was clear. The wrist cuffs were clipped either side to the metal frame and her ankles were fastened in the same way to the front legs of the chair. Her collar and cuffs reminded her all the while of the reason she was there. At His pleasure.

He had refrained from tying the ropes around her thighs and fastening them to the chair. She had promised to keep her knees wide where he could admire the glistening of her cunt.

"Close your eyes now honey."

She always complied, or tried to do what he bade her. Her mind was racing as she heard him move around the room. This was new and he was preparing something at the table where he kept all the toys he used when she came to the room.

She didn't dare look. His hand covered her mouth and pushed her head back so far she thought her neck might snap. Then in an instant the heat and burn seared her nipple. She heard the muffled exclamation of surprise and realised it came from her own lungs. Her eyes remained shut. Panic didn't even have time to take hold before the sensation subsided. The heat came again quickly. Her skin was on fire. She began to writhe. The burn dripped on her nipples and little splashes sprang to her belly and thighs.

His hand moved to cover her nose and mouth. Her cunt tightened and throbbed. Then as she began to settle into the sting and burn of her flesh, her clit screamed in pain as the burn found its tender mark. She was growing dizzy without oxygen. Writhing, squirming, her thoughts slipped away and all she knew was the burn.

He released his hand and she drank in two gulps of sweet air before he pushed into her face again bending her back over the chair. Her collar digging into the nape of her neck was to leave her marked that day.

Her wet pink flesh burned. She thought nothing and felt everything. The burn overwhelming her as the waves of joy moved through her tremouring body. She was his, giving him her pain and fear in the moment she came. He considered her muffled scream and wax drenched body was one of her most beautiful moments.
  

photographer unknown

phone call control

He called this morning.

I had been given a lovely task.
Today I was to cum 8 times with the aid of Mr Buzzy. Just when I was feeling all disconnected and Loosey Goosey-like.

I made it to 5 quite quickly and easily.
On my knees, Mr Buzzy doing his magic.
A text sent to the Outback told him:

One, Good morning Sir.

Two, an early start.

Three, quiet and gentle,

Four, loud and proud,

Five, hot on the heels of four and a little tired.

The next text to the Outback reported I was resting comfortably.

The phone rang. I looked on the caller ID to see with some glee that it was Him.

'Hello Sir!' in my happiest excited voice.

'Put the nipple clamps on and cum three more times. Now.'

The eighth had barely subsided when he demanded another.
I heard myself  beg him in a breathless sweaty voice, 'No, please, I can't.'
He is fond of saying, 'I don't care, DO IT!'
So again another one. Number 10 rolled in behind that...then he wanted one more!!!
I called him an unflattering name secure in the knowledge that he couldn't reach my arse from where he was. I will no doubt pay for my expletive when he returns. I may be lucky though. He may forget...or not ;).

'Put Mr Buzzy away now and don't touch it, or yourself ,until Friday. We may do this again if I decide you deserve it."

The nipple clamps had to stay on for another 15 minutes though he threatened to lengthen this if I gave him any more attitude. We talked while I waited the 15 minutes. The whip he was searching for, the length and shape he wanted. I asked him if I could request something. He has never denied me, not really, but maybe that's the kinky bitch in me needing everything he encourages me to need. I asked him if he would clamp my clit. 'Of course!' he said 'Good Girl' (oh heavenly words). I have never asked him for anything directly. I have hinted either by action or in word, but never really asked directly for him to hurt me, *do* things to me. His enthusiastic reply made me backtrack a little. He won't allow that. Once it is said, once the desire is made explicit, the need known, he will move all obstacles to *make it so number one*.

Meanwhile...

My left nipple cried in pain.

At the fifteen minute mark to the second according to his watch, which seemed a lot slower than the clock I was watching, he told me to take the clamps off my nipples.

'Right first.'

'Ouch!

'Left.'...

I screamed..it really hurt!

Really!

All in all though, an erotic start to my day.





photographer unknown. Source: internet

happy birthday baby

She lay on her bed alone but surrounded by him. She lay panting. Clover clamps draped over her torso and the redness and pain from their bite still fresh. Mr Buzzy magic wand lay between her thighs, her hand gripped tightly to steer. The phone in her hand lay beside her. He was away and this was her birthday.

She had put the clover clamps gingerly on each nipple inside her bra. A present for him, after all this was her birthday.

Her text read:

I have the clamps on my nipples for you. Inside my bra. 

I am breathless from the pain. I am excited. Wet.
This is my present to you from me for my birthday.

She had no sooner pressed send than her phone rang in her fingertips. It was him. He had not had time to read the text and in fact didn't know she had sent it, but they had an uncanny thing between them and this sort of timing was not unusual. She knew there had been this connection and it no longer surprised him when she demonstrated she knew exactly what he was thinking. He just needed to work harder at switching horses midstream to keep her on her toes.

She told him what the text had said.

"Undress."

He demanded she get the wand.
He demanded she cum for him.

"Take one clamp off at a time. When you cum take  the left off first."

He spoke in his growl. He called her slut. He reminded her she would cum. She had no choice.

As she came she released the clamp. The timing was perfect there was little pain...at first! Then she screamed with the pain that surged through her left nipple, spreading out across her body to meet the ripple of her orgasm.

"Again..fuck it."

She tried hard, the distraction of the clover's bite was making it hard for her to come. She whinged her discontent.

"Do it NOW Slut."

Again she came releasing the right clamp. Her timing was off this time. The pain was intense. She screamed her ecstasy into the phone. She knew the power her cries had over him. She knew he was hard for her. She loved that she could have that effect on him from another part of the country. The intense pain in her nipple subsided but the burn remained. Wave after wave of her orgasm left her panting and spent.

"Happy Birthday Baby" and after a small pause, "You may use the wand as much as you like today, after all, it's your birthday."

property of photographer (unknown)

marks

Naughty knotty little monkey posed the question how much is too much? referring to marking, sporting the evidence of a good session's frolic on sub skin.

I have read the answers with much interest but not weighed in myself as I am so inexperienced I have no idea just how much is too much. I suspect though that I would not make a very good pain slut. Whilst revelling in the feeling of constraint and restraint, I do tend to squeal quite loudly at points in the proceedings when I am sure that most other confessed submissive women or men might say..."You call that a spanking, Sir".

This is a long winded way of saying I woke this morning and whilst doing my hair..aka trying to tame the witch into the smooth silky locks of the princess in the tower, I noticed reflected in the mirror marks on my neck and throat. Hmmm! I gasped at the blood blisters and finger tip marks. Then an extraordinary feeling travelled through me. The corners of my mouth turned up, my eyes brightened and I giggled "How much is too much Lulu?". 



via newground.com