Tag Archives: bdsm

Wine Tasting

He shut the door behind him softly, turning his face to the dim living room.   He squinted, the flickering candlelight brushing soft lines of silhouette near the window at the end of the room.

“Come in and put your things on the table.”  Her silky voice surprised him, and he reflexively gripped the small bag in his hand.  He did as he was told, hand flexing again when her voice sounded.

“Remove your clothing.”  He breathed deep as he reached for his t-shirt.  He was momentarily disappointed she would not see the funny saying on the front of the shirt.  He had worn it thinking it would make her laugh and was looking forward to her response.

His feet worked his sneakers off, the jeans and underwear followed and he put them on the chair before bending and peeling off his socks.  He stood again, the slightly cool air of the room kissed his skin with goosebumps.

He looked again at the shadow of his Mistress, flanks tensed as he waited for her next command.  He didn’t have to wait long.

“Open the wine and pour us each a glass  Then bring them here.”

He quickly complied, smelling the fruity scent of the red wine as he poured a liberal amount into the glasses waiting there.  He picked the glasses up and walked over to her.  As he approached he could see the outline of her legs.  Her curvy, strong legs were covered with black thigh-high stockings.  On her feet were a pair of black pumps.  He nearly groaned as his eyes traveled from her thigh to her toes and back.  He dared not peek further up.

“Kneel.”  One syllable and he was on his knees in front of her, naked and bearing her wine.  His cock was already beginning to swell.

He held up a glass of wine and waited.  She reached forward, her long fingers wrapping around the stem of the glass.  He could imagine those fingers wrapping around him.  The thought made a groan form in his chest.  His teeth bore down on his bottom lip to keep the sound from escaping.

She took a drink of the wine, her red lips parting as her tongue licked the traces off her mouth.  His cock thickened further.

“Would you like to taste your wine?” She asked him, gesturing to the other glass still in his hand.

“Yes, Ma’am, I would.”  He replied.

“You may do so after you take care of that hard cock.”  She uncrossed her legs, leaning forward and holding up a small bottle of lubricant.  She ran a finger along his shaft before gripping him so firmly the wine glass in his hand shook.

“This is unacceptably hard.”  Long fingers ran the length of him, grasping his thickness and squeezing until the head shimmered with precum.  He gasped.

“Yes Ma’am.”  He looked for a table to set the wine glass.  Mistress shook her head.

“No, my Pet, you misunderstand.  You must hold the wine while you stroke your cock for me.”  She smiled at him and took another drink.  “You will not spill a drop.  If you do, I will plug your ass.”

He winced. His ass was still in training and he was fairly sure she would not use the training plugs if she followed through on her threat.

“Yes Ma’am.”

He did not have to work to make it hard.  His cock was throbbing already, begging for touch.  He opened his palm and Mistress poured some lube on it. He spread the lube down over his head and shuddered at his own touch.  He was so swollen with arousal he did not think it would be long before his offering was ready for her.

He worked his hand up and down his shaft slowly, squeezing his fingers over the head of his cock.  His breathing quickened, and a small gasp escaped him as he caressed his head again.

“Look up at me,” She commanded.  He obeyed, raising his eyes to hers.  He could feel his heartbeat racing, his hand working his shaft faster as he allowed his mind to envision her receiving him.  He momentarily closed his eyes as pleasure began to overtake him.

He was not aware of her movement until her fingers caressed his cheek as they traveled to his jaw. She pulled his face to the side abruptly.  “Open your eyes!”  They flew open in surprise.  Her mouth was so close he could have leaned forward and kissed her.  But he did not dare.  His hand continued its increasingly frantic pace on his cock.  It would not be long now.

“Please Mistress,” he gasped, cords in his neck straining as he held back his orgasm.  “May I cum please?”

“Not yet.”  She smiled and moved to his other side, one hand caressing a trail from his shoulder to his nipple.  She grasped it tightly.  He fought back the orgasm, thinking about accounting, baseball, dishwasher repair.  Anything to keep from cumming before his Mistress allowed it.

“Please!” He was beginning to feel a burning sensation in his balls and knew he could not hold back much longer.

“You may cum,” She breathed softly, her mouth caressing his ear.  “In your glass.”

His brain barely registered her words in time, he thrust the glass down to his crotch, as desperate not to spill it as he was to cum.  He groaned loudly as his thick, creamy fluid squirted into the glass.  He stroked the last drops out, shuddering and nearly laughing in disbelief – he had not spilled a drop.

His Mistress was still kneeling behind him, her hands on his skin and her sweet mouth trailing kisses down his neck.

“Very well done,” She said, kissing his neck and allowing him to feel her teeth sinking into his skin.  He felt the burning pleasure of his nipple being twisted in her fingers.  She stood abruptly, the sudden lack of touch making him miss her proximity already.

She returned to her chair and crossed her legs again.  Her wine glass was once again wrapped in her fingers.

“Salute,”  She said, holding up her glass.  He mimicked her gesture and ignored the disbelief he felt at what he was about to do.

“Salute” he echoed back as he tipped the glass and drank it down.

10 Comments

Filed under Erotica

Who’s the Sub?

I agreed to meet you at the bar.  I told you I’d be the one in the black tights with the growling pussy.  You laughed and said I should be easy to find.

I’ll admit, my approach was less than subtle.  But the hunger was rising like a burning tide inside me.  Demanding release, needing touch.  There was no way I could hide it so I figured the safest bet was a full-frontal assault.

We met and relaxed over beer and conversation.  I caught my gaze as it locked on the outline of your nipples through your t-shirt.  Mmm…my mouth tingled at the thought of their hard outline between my lips.  I momentarily lost track of what you were saying.  Mesmerized by the fantasy reel playing in my head, I watched your lips move and picture that motion on my swollen clit.

We made casual conversation while I killed you in a game of darts.  That’s it, you announced with a smile, the handicap is over.  Next time, we both play straight – no slop.  I grinned back, the competitive spirit inside me alight and reveling in a heady rush.  Just one of many heady moments to come.

We headed out, my stomach rumbling with hunger that nearly matched that of my craven pussy.  In the parking lot, your mouth found mine, your fingers making a beeline for the V between my legs.  I opened my thighs and welcomed your touch, stopping myself just shy of grinding into your palm – there were people on the sidewalk behind me.  We discussed stopping for something to eat on the way to my place.  We made it a only a few blocks from the bar, when I texted you.

Forget the food.  Take me home and fuck me.

Your response:  🙂

I felt myself flirting with a dangerous edge.  My hunger had an unbidden quality that worried me.  I didn’t know you well enough – didn’t know if you would receive the full brunt of that danger well.  I fought for control even as my hands found their way into my pants. There were no panties to navigate, just the full lips of my pussy, already swelling and moist.  The beast had arisen…

We arrived at my place.  I continued to struggle for control of the animal urges while I poured a drink and flipped on a CD. But you read my signals.  You knew what I needed.  You wasted no time, stripping off my blouse and freeing my breasts to your touch.  You kissed and sucked them, twisted and pulled them in that way that makes me exhale in a slow hiss.  You squeezed them tight, trapping blood in my nipples and increasing the sensitivity.  I wrapped my leg around you, peeling off your shirt so my hands could touch your skin.  You leaned me back over the couch, then changed direction, pulling me by my nipples to the other side of the sofa.

You waited for me to remove your pants and laughed when I lacked the initiative.  I made an embarrassed mental note: next time, examine the belt – so I can rip it off with accuracy and not make a fumbling mess of it.

Take me to the bedroom I asked you.  I needed to have room to move, this passion could not handle the confines of the sofa.  You stood and grasped my taut nipples in your fingers, pulling me like a dog on a leash.  I obediently followed my master’s footsteps.

In the bedroom, I felt the swell of passion rise inside me like turbulent seas sluicing up in a punchbowl.  I pushed you down on the bed and my lips found your cock.  I licked the salty fluid from your tip, savoring the flavor of your desire.  I want you to cum on my tits I said breathlessly as my mouth worked its magic and your cock grew full and hard.  I was drunk on the power my mouth had over your body, seduced by the way you moaned and worked your hips beneath my face.  I went too far.

But you can’t cum until I say so.

Who is in control here?  The velvet softness of your voice belied the steel beneath.  I felt your hand clench into a fist at the back of my head.  You pulled me up, denying me the feast of your cock, pulling my face back up to yours. I am the Dom here you said with a silky growl.  You brushed your lips across mine, tightening your fist in my hair and giving me a little shake.  Who’s the sub?  You pulled me close, your mouth closing over mine in a kiss that swept over me like an inferno. I am, I sighed against your lips.  My mind fought for control, part of me wanting to push that boundary further, craving the knowledge of your dominance over me.  The other part of me wanted to please, wanted to retreat from the animal within.  That part won.

You pushed me back down, thrusting my face down onto your cock and pumping into my throat with a few deep thrusts to drive your point home.  I accepted you, accepted my place, yielding to your touch and giving up my pussy to you like an offering on an altar.

Our bodies engaged in an erotic performance; a dance of sensation punctuated by sighs and groans, grunts and strangled sounds, the deafening clap of your hands reddening my ass as a reminder.  In the end you kept the beast in its cage, you fed the hunger and ignited a new craving.

I have touched myself countless times since then – eyes closed, lips parted as my body thrusts and strains for release all the while repeating your words:

Who’s the sub here?

I am…for now.

 

10 Comments

Filed under Erotica

Cum Like a Whore

Can you do it?
Do you have the power?
Can you bend me to your will?
Grind deep?
Pump hard?
Can you make me feel like
You possess me?

Tongue lashing, flicking, swirling, lapping,
Creating a juicy cocktail of desire.
Will you drink me in and taste my essence?
May I sip from yours?

Fuck that.
Sip this.
On your knees and listen up.
Open your mouth,
Stick out your tongue,
and flay my pussy now.

Grab it.
Grab that cock.
Squeeze yourself for me, Little Bitch.
Show me how you like your nasty.

I’m going to taste you, tongue you, finger you.
I may even grab a dildo and fuck you.
And you will thank me.
Pumping hot loads of cum into my palm,
Across my tits and on my ass,
You will thank me.
As you lick yourself up off my skin,
And feel your cock get hard again.

You growl and roll me, now control me.
You press me down beneath you.
Spread me, fingers deep, fuck that spot,
The one

That makes me

GUSH!

I dribble and shudder, you finger and sip,
I quiver and moan as you drain me.
Then you rear yourself up,
Jerk my hips to yours,
Bend me back,
Fuck me deep.
Deeper.
Deep and hard.
Harder.
I clench, scream writhe, twist, moan, laugh, twitch.
I cum like a wet, fucking whore for you.

And you love it.

 

 

 

8 Comments

Filed under Erotica, Poetry

Domination Calling

“Do you like that, slut?”  His voice was soft, deep with a rough edge to it.  I could hear his breathing, heavy and uneven.

“Yes.” I panted into my headset.  My hands were far too occupied to hold my cell phone.

“You like it when you fuck yourself in the ass, don’t you whore?” His voice was trembling slightly.  I could hear his excitement and it fueled mine.  His arousal reached across the distance between us and scorched my skin.

“Yes.” I gasped, barely able to hold back the moans long enough to answer. “Oh god, oh fuck yes!”  My hand pumped the plug into my ass, my body writhing as my excited pussy oozed moisture everywhere.  My other hand was gripping the headboard with white knuckles.  It was the only thing maintaining separation between that hand and my hungry clit.

“Good girl.” He said, fighting to maintain control of himself.  “Now, pinch your clit. Hard.”

I did as he commanded, my sounds serving as confirmation of my obedience.  “Good,” he breathed raggedly, “Very good.”

I couldn’t stand it.  I needed to cum.  I needed to finger my clit, to plunge something, anything, into my pussy.  It had been almost an hour.  Pinching, pulling, teasing, his voice the strings that dictated the movements of my erotic dance.  He had brought me to the edge and let me teeter there, listening to me as I breathed, moaned, cried out to maintain my balance.

“Please.”  The words left me as a whisper but ended as a groan.  It was all I could manage.  It is hard to talk when your body is on fire.  I could feel the tears in the corner of my eyes as I heard the primal need in my own voice.

“Please what, whore?” He prompted.

“I need to touch my clit! Please!”  I struggled to speak.  I didn’t care if I sounded pathetic.  I didn’t care if I sounded whiny or desperate.  I just wanted his permission.  Needed it.

The silence dragged out as I continued fucking my ass, switching hands quickly as one grew tired.  The moisture of my body coated my fingers.  I could still feel and smell the dried moisture on my face from earlier, when he made me smear my pussy juice on myself.

“You may touch it.”  He was breathing harshly now and I sensed his own struggle was taking place.

I gasped and my fingers flew to my clit, rubbing it slowly in contrast to the furious pumping of my ass and I moaned my thanks.  It was only a minute before I was gasping that I was going to cum.

“Stop.”  I almost ignored his command but the steel in his voice was like an invisible chain, yanking my hand away.

I did as he instructed, even though it pained me to do it.  He repeated the ritual a few more times, bringing me to the edge and yanking my hand away with his iron words.  It was a physical ache now.  The need was howling but I still obeyed.  I panted, slowed my pace and waited the eternity between his last command and his next question.

“I’m going to cum soon, slut.  Tell me where you want me to cum.”  His voice grew raspy and the sound of it was like a hot tongue flicking over my pussy.  It twitched in eager response.

“Anywhere you want.”  I said, “Except my face. Not on my face.”  I could hardly wait.  My body had been riding the edge of this wave for so long, I felt as though I was going to explode.  I breathed deep, trying to calm myself as my hand continued delivering strokes into my ass with the plug, long and slow.

“Where?”  He asked again.  He needed me to be specific.

“My pussy.”  I told him, laughing out loud.  The torture I felt was so exquisite, so complete.  All I could do was fuck my ass and laugh.  “I want you to cum inside me.”

“You want to feel my cum in your pussy?” He asked unevenly.  I could hear him teetering on his own edge and the sound of it gripped me.

“Mmm hmmm.” It was all I could say, my attention was entirely focused on the sounds of his arousal, the sound of his cock being pumped by his fist.

“You may touch your clit again.”  He grunted at me.  My fingers flew with lightning speed to the center of my urgency.  “Rub it fast and hard.”  His voice was growing tight and I could sense his orgasm was nearing.  I could almost feel his swollen head inside me and my hands worked faster, pumping my ass quickly as I rubbed.

We reached our crescendo together, my cries reaching a fever pitch just a stroke or two before his.  I could almost feel the heat of his cum inside me.  I could hear his shudders wrack his body, the sound of his release thrilling me just as mine had done for him.  And before I knew it, I was laughing with delight.

Utterly spent.  Satiated.  Finally given permission to cum.

Copyright 2013 CJ Riordan – Originally Published March 19, 2013

17 Comments

Filed under Erotica

Dear Master

Dear Master,

I gave myself to you as a gift.

Thrilled by your excitement, I couldn’t wait for you to unwrap me.

When you played with your new toy, I felt satisfied and content.

I felt loved and purposeful.

Eventually though, you grew bored.

My luster faded.

I was set aside with your other forgotten playthings.

I began to feel lost.  I became invisible.

As I sat untouched, collecting dust and cobwebs,

The yearning flame inside me nearly extinguished.

I almost lost the fire within me.

Withering in that dark lonely place you exiled me to.

But then a new flame began to burn.

Resentment.

Indignation.

Anger.

Fury.

Wrath.

Who are you to decide what I am worth?

While you feasted on my offerings,

My soul starved for intimacy and connection.

For the loving touch of my companion.

So why was I waiting like a dutiful dog?

For a Master who did not feed me?

Galvanized, I threw off the shackles.

I cut the ropes that bind and tie.

I packed my life into cardboard boxes.

Leaving empty spaces in your house.

Where colorful treasures once awaited.

Now only dust and cobwebs lie spread before you.

This dutiful submissive is climbing down from her shelf.

And ripping her freedom from your uncaring hands.

In a final act of sensual disobedience.

But that is nothing compared to the crime of neglect.

Submission is a gift.

Submission is a choice.

And the true power lies within the choice.

So I exerted my dusty power.

I made my choice.

This submissive only yields to a Master she deems worthy.

8 Comments

Filed under Erotica, Poetry

A Pivotal Act

“Come here, Pet.”

The deep baritone of his voice summoned me.  Without question, I set my e-reader aside, rose from my chair and went to his side.

“Kneel.”  I complied.

He gazed at me silently, his dark eyes hard to read.  There was a pensiveness about him I could not put my finger on, but I knew better than to question him.  I simply waited.

He leaned forward and gently removed my reading glasses.  His thumb a featherlight caress on the high arch of my cheekbone.  Finally, he spoke.

“You will remove my pants and pleasure me with that sweet mouth.”  My mouth watered in response.

“Yes, Sir.” I replied, eager to begin.  I could feel the warm rush of heat coursing through me at the mere thought of his hard cock in my mouth.  I reached eagerly for his belt.

His hand stopped me.  “I’m not finished,”  he said firmly.

“Yes, Sir.” I replied and dropped my hands back into my lap.  I crossed them, my hands forming a V of overlapping fingers, just as I had been taught.  His preferred pose of supplication.  Hands in lap, eyes down, back straight.

“When I am ready,” he continued in a voice tinged with steel, “I will cum on your face.”

My heart skipped a beat and I gasped involuntarily.  He will what???

The words alone made tears spring to my eyes.  The thought was like a fist grabbing my entrails in a cramp of pain.  I did not understand how my beloved Sir could defile me that way.  I mentally flashed through the last several weeks, grasping blindly for anything that I had done wrong to warrant such punishment.  I could come up with nothing.  A sob bubbled to the back of my throat, where I held it fiercely in check.  I could feel his eyes on my face, gauging my reaction.

I struggled with the revulsion, the horror that accompanied the mental image of hot, sticky cum squirting onto my face.    I struggled to maintain my composure, to be the dutiful, obedient submissive.  I fought for control of my disgust.  I fought and I lost.

The sob burst free as I reeled back, rising to my feet and backing away quickly.  I tried to scramble to the safety of the sofa; I wanted to run.

He anticipated my move and sprang out of his chair.  His large hands gripped my arms tight and he jerked me towards him.  “You will kneel!”  He commanded darkly, his iron grip on my arms pushing me to the floor.  ” You will kneel and you will listen.”

I had no choice but to kneel before him.  His hands released my arms and one wound tightly into my hair.  I cried out, more from fear than pain, and my breathing began to edge toward hyperventilation.  He pulled my head back, forcing my eyes up to his.

“You must accept this.  It is my command and you will do as you are told.”  He said quietly.  “I have waited long enough.  You will never experience the true freedom found in submission unless you embrace it fully.  I can’t call myself your Master without placing my mark upon your beautiful face.”  His voice softened then, and one hand released my hair and cupped my chin.  “I know you are frightened of it, of your reaction to it.  I wouldn’t demand it unless I thought you were ready.”

I felt my near-hysteria ebb slowly as his words sank in.  His hand caressed my face as he waited and watched the struggle of emotions play in my eyes.

Was I really ready for this?  Could I handle it?  It was my hard line, my absolute boundary.  And now, he was ordering me to cross it.  I took a deep breath and tried to stop myself from shaking.  The fear licked at my insides.

“It is time.”  He said, loosening his belt.  He settled himself in the chair and crooked a finger at me.  I hesitated then crawled to his feet.

“It is your most pivotal act of submission.”  He acknowledged with a smile.  The smile faded.

“Now suck, my little slut.”

I placed my hands at the small of my back, forming the reverse V he preferred.  My body began to shake again as I leaned over his hips and opened my mouth.  His cock was already nearly hard.  He exhaled softly and his head fell back against the chair as my mouth performed a pleasure-filled dance across his cock.

In s pite of the ending, which I was not looking forward to, I could still feel myself getting wet.  My body responded to the sensation of his hard flesh in my mouth just as it always did.  The act of sucking him was both thrilling and terrifying.  Yet even as I savored the feel and flavor of him, I was not sure I could do it.

As he neared his orgasm, I could feel the fear pulling at me.  With every masterful stroke of my lips and tongue, I knew I was one step closer.  His hand fisted into my hair and he drove himself deep into my throat, holding me perfectly still for a moment while he struggled for control.  He pulled out of my throat with a groan and I shut my eyes as my stomach began to churn.  In an instant, I knew I was going to submit.  When I realized it, the feeling was like that moment at the crest of a roller coaster, just before the earth falls away beneath you.  Suspended, terrifying bliss.

Hot liquid shot across my mouth and cheek and I flinched reflexively.  As the second and third streams poured across the same path, my face remained upturned.  The rush of emotion was unlike anything I had experienced before.  Somehow, he had managed to avoid coating my eyes and I opened them fully when I realized it.

The look on his face was complete joy and satisfaction.    As his cum oozed down my jawline, dripping onto my tank top, he reached a hand forward and wiped a thumb across my cheek.  He smeared a dab of his cum on my forehead, then another smear across my other cheek.  He repeated this over and over, until my face was carefully and lovingly painted in his cum.  As he anointed me, his joyful expression turned solemn.   He leaned forward and kissed me.

“You are mine.”

11 Comments

Filed under Erotica