FEEDBACK: Yes TigerLillyPetal@aol.com
RATING: Adults only
STATUS: Completed
NOTES:
By Lilly
“So do you want to sit or lay down?”
The sound of your voice begins my journey. I have been anticipating this moment, day-dreaming of the evening we are about to have. All day, through the haze of my normal routine this moment has been in the back of my mind. I spent my time thinking about you and the plans we had. It was all I had been thinking about for days. I had seen you use your skill, your talent, and your ability to bring such perfect pain. I needed you to practice your craft on me, as much as I needed air to breathe or water to drink, to live in fulfillment required you.
“Sitting.” I responded knowing it is one of the last decisions you will grant me the right to make this evening and reveling in that knowledge.
“Do you want the collar?” You ask, caressing me with your gaze.
“Yes please Sir.” I respond, my voice wavering as my mind works its way towards emptiness. A black canvas waiting to be touched with the flashing bright white of my pain.
You leave to find the collar, my outer symbol of my inner soul. Returning you find me sitting on the couch, waiting for your touch. You set the collar down, I hear the sound of the ring clinking, metal on metal, and I travel further into the void. The blessed void, my desire.
I move my hair out of your way, anticipating your next actions.
You touch me, your hands and fingers burning my skin through my blouse. Rubbing, kneading, a harsh caressing which I have begged for and you have granted. Soon I feel the muscles in my back relax under your hands, my tension is leaving, letting the void in. You pull me back towards you; I am a limp doll in your skilled hands. You kiss me and for a moment I come back to a state of consciousness, How sweet, I think to myself. A simple kiss, a reassurance, a mental caress. A simple act of kindness, passion, whatever the reason it is welcomed by me and I treasure it.
You continue rubbing, removing the stress of the day. I feel your hand slide around my side, you caress my breast, feel my nipple harden to the touch of your fingers. Knowing my desires, you pinch the nipple, hard but not too hard. I moan and lean in to the pinch. I want more, but you are in charge and decide I have had enough.
Returning to my back, you repeat the process, Rub, kiss, pinch only a little harder and a little longer and I moan again expressing my pleasure.
“I think it’s time you got undressed.” You order me and I move to comply. Knowing what you are asking for I remove my blouse and skirt, keeping my stockings and my bra and panty set on.
“Turn around, let me see you.” You order, taking control.
My mind is floating, my journey has begun. It does not even occur to me to deny you this. You have given an order, the first stroke of red passion on the black canvas of my mind.
I stand before you in my stockings and the bra and panty set I bought specifically because I knew you would like it. I think for a moment of the picture I present. I begin to feel uncomfortable, disappointed that I can not be more perfect for you. Hoping you forgive my flaws. As always, you save me before I leave the void.
“Do you think you look beautiful?” You ask the question and I answer with no thought.
“Yes.” I respond, meaning it. I feel beautiful, powerful, small, treasured. I am the original Eve. In this room there is only you and I. In your living room exists my entire universe. In my mind exists nothing, red passionate strokes across the canvas of my mind, soon to be joined by the white strokes of pain.
“Kneel.” A simple order and yet my body feels as if it is moving through water as I move to comply. I kneel and you place the collar around my neck. Holding it tightly against my neck as you fasten it.
I feel it, I feel the extreme tightness as you complete the fastening. Then it becomes slightly looser, but still it is tight. Tight enough that I can not forget it is there. I do not want to.
The collar, the symbol of my submission. The symbol or your ownership of my body, my mind, my spirit, my soul. A small strip of leather with its clinking cold metal rings. I have only to reach my hands to my neck and in a moment it could be gone. I don’t have to wear it if I don’t want to. The thought never occurs to me. The collar takes me to the edge of space. I know what is coming next will plunge me into the depths of nothingness. With every fiber of my being I long to be there.
Pulling me up by the ring attached to my slave collar you bless me with an act of kindness I am not expecting. Your words please me as they demonstrate your caring kindness for your slave.
“Bend over the couch, or you can put your knees on the couch and bend over the back of it. However you think you’ll be more comfortable.”
Has anyone had a kinder master?
You have removed the canes, but my vision is blurred and I do not see them clearly. You stand there silently, gazing on me and I hope I have pleased you. I bend over, placing my hands on the seat of the couch, raising my ass to you in a silent begging gesture.
I feel the cane, you rub it against the cheeks of my ass. My eyes close of their own volition, I have no control, my only thought is of what is to come. You continue the caressing and my mind begins to focus. I begin to think of what it is going to feel like. You’ve never caned me before and I’m scared, apprehensive, nervous, excited.
“We’ve never done this before so when you need me to stop, say stop. Your safe-word is stop.” I hear your voice and respond in the affirmative. I know you don’t want to hurt me, that your pleasure would not be the same if I didn’t feel safe.
Whack!
The first strike of the cane on my buttocks. A slight sting, I know you are hitting me lightly, testing me to see what my reactions will be. There is pain, but it is slight and brief, too brief.
Whack!
Whack!
A few more strokes of the cane. The pain is different from any other you have given me and I find myself comparing the pain. Stop thinking slut, I think to myself knowing that thought is the enemy. I want to feel and only feel.
You have begun to determine my limits, my abilities and you know instinctively what it is I need.
Whack!
Again you repeat the process, only now you have changed canes. This one hurts slightly more until you begin to cane me with greater force. The pain is there now, sharp and stinging, a slight burning that spreads a tiny bit and then fades. Again and again you hit the same spot until you decide to move on and hit another spot.
Taking your hands and fingers you caress me. I am your property and the thought of objecting never enters my mind. Nothing enters my mine except the pain and the pleasure my master allows me to have.
“Your cunt is wet slut.” You state the fact and I am pleased. I know you are pleased to find me wet as you stick your finger into my panties and rub my juices into my clit. But my release must wait, you do not want me to cum yet and I will not disgrace myself by cumming without your permission.
“Are you excited?”
“Yes Master.” I hear the response and I know it has come from me. There is only honesty between us here in this room. I am wet, the caning and the pain has excited me. An inner being has taken control and it is she who responds to your question with brutal honesty, there is no reason and no purpose to lying here. I am a slave to my Master, a body to be used in His pleasure.
Whack!
Whack!
There is a passage of time, but I am unaware. I feel only the biting pain as you cane me again, stopping to rub my cheeks and thighs, rubbing the pain in.
Smack!
Now you alternate, caning, spanking, caressing. I feel pain and pleasure, you reach up and twist my nipples, harder than you had earlier and the pain and pleasure wash over me. You have in steps removed my panties and I know you can see my wetness. You have already taken your fingers, rubbed them over my wet cunt and offered me your fingers so that I could smell and taste myself.
I hear something and through the haze I realize you are undressing. As always you have remained in charge, but made me feel as though only I mattered. The caning was hurting, hurting me badly. I embraced the pain, anticipated it, looked forward to it. It hurt and I felt that soon I would cry. You had stopped, knowing I had reached my limit.
“Ready to get fucked slave.” You ask and I barely hear you even though you stand next to me. The canvas has been painted; the black has many strokes of hot white pain. It is beautiful and now my Master will finish it.
“Yes Master.” I respond again not recognizing my voice. I know deep down that it is me responding, there is no one else in the room and yet it is not me. It is my Master’s slave and she is I and I am she, she is the real me but I am slave to no one. If you think on it dear reader it is confusing, that is the joy and pleasure of my world, do not think…simply be…simply feel…fly free.
You enter me from behind. I know we exchange dialogue, you pinch my nipples and spank my ass. I am rushing, rushing towards my orgasm. You hurt me, but there is no pain only pleasure. You hurt me more, you pinch harder, spank harder, a thousand novels could not describe the pleasure I feel.
“Please Master, may I cum? Please Master, I want to cum. May I cum. Oh please Master, please Sir, may I cum?” I am begging and pleading, I will not cum without your permission. I want to cum NOW!
“Play with your clit!” It is an order and I obey. I do not think if this will bring me pleasure, I do not think if it pleasures my Master, I simply obey. Obedience is a forgone conclusion on both our parts.
There is noise, moaning and screaming. If I thought about it I would know that the noise is coming from me, but there is no thinking only feeling. Bliss.
“Cum for me. Cum for me now!” You order and my body obeys. My body belongs to you, I do not even think of it as mine. It is your possession and if you want it to cum, then cum it will and cum it does.
You wait until I have ridden each powerful wave of my orgasm. You withdraw from me and I stay bent over the couch, my body awaiting it’s Master’s orders. You move me so that I am standing up and you sit on the couch in front of me.
“Suck my cock whore. You cum-slut, taste your cum bitch. Suck my cock.”
My mouth engulfs you, I revel in the taste of my earlier pleasure. You have gathered my hair in your hands and with one hand pull it tightly, painfully and I moan my pleasure. You reach with the other hand for the ring on my slave collar and pull the collar up and down, my mouth following the pace you set as I suck your cock. I do not know how much time passes, I have no thought other than submitting to your desire, pleasuring you, the beautiful taste of my cum on your cock. You pull up on my hair and the slave collar until my body has risen to a standing position before you. I do not know what you want next, I do not think on it and I do not care. You will order me and I will obey, there is no thought here only feeling and it is bliss.
“Put my cock inside of you.” My body obeys it’s Master’s order and I am riding you. Faster and harder, according to the pace you set with your hands on my hips and ass. You reach up and pinch and twist my sore nipples. PAIN! I feel another orgasm approaching as the pain inevitably translates itself into pleasure.
“Please Master, please.” I am screaming incoherently, begging Master’s permission to cum. He is kind and grants it. My body experiences another orgasm, the second or third of the evening. I have already lost count, it doesn’t matter. Master is good to me and I always lose count.
You stand, your penis still sheathed within me. I wrap my legs around your waist. I do not know what your intention is, I do not care. You will order and I will obey. I do not feel self-conscious or awkward. I simply feel, to define it would ruin it and so I don’t.
You lay me on the couch and begin to fuck me in earnest. You are slamming yourself into me harder and faster and I begin to return to Earth. You are nearing your orgasm. I am the most powerful, beautiful woman on Earth, only your orgasm will complete this creature you have created. Our pleasure has filled the canvas and there is only bright white and deep, dark red painted on what used to be my mind.
You cum in me, signing the canvas of my mind and I am complete.
Thank you Master.