Short on time and always rushing, I was surprised when I realized I had subconsciously slowed my steps as I got closer to his address.
Iâm nervous. This dawns in me, out of character and slightly amusing, and then I notice my heart is racing as well. I roll my eyes at my own silliness, and knock on the door.
He greets me and we make small talk â a little about life, a little about boundaries and hard limits, how to navigate the annoying detail of my period. I find myself blushing and struggling to make eye contact. It doesnât go unnoticed and he tilts his head and smiles.
âYouâre a very put-together woman, arenât you.â Iâve come straight from the office and Iâm dressed smartly for my job. Not knowing what to say, I laugh and shrug. âI like that.â He says. I force myself to look at his face. I find myself thinking that the look in his eye is probably much the same as a wild predator staring bemusedly at a small animal that has no chance, knowing it will be his lunch.
The small talk ends. âGo upstairs,â he says.
Iâm now deeply aware of my own nervousness, observing it like a unusual anthropological event happening inside of me. This is strange, I think. How unlike me. He lifts my skirt as we walk up the stairs, Iâm exposed, I beat down the instinct to object. I finish climbing the stairs, and stand at the foot of the bed.
He lifts up my dress and takes it off, then gently placed my wrists behind my head. Touching my body like routine examination, he begins to explain whatâs about to happen.
âIâm going to hurt you.â His voice is level. Itâs neither mean nor commanding, heâs simply stating facts. âWe donât have a lot of time, so youâre going to feel a lot of things very intensely for short periods. Iâm not punishing you for anything, you havenât done anything wrong. Do you know why Iâm going to hurt you.â I shake my head no. He puts his hand on my chin and lifts it towards him. âYou say âYes Sir or No Sirâ when I ask you questions. Do you know why Iâm going to hurt you?â âNo Sir.â
âBecause I get off on it, and thatâs what matters most.âHe continues to undress me - taking off my panties and bra - and places a blindfold over my eyes.
I stand there naked and all but quivering from anticipation; I hear him going through a bag, implements knocking against each other as he searches through them. His footsteps come back towards me and I feel his hands touch me as he sits on the bed and says âOver my knee.â
He spanks me with his hand. âIâm doing this as a kindnessâ he explains as I squirm. âThe rest will hurt much worse if I donât.â My ass and thighs sting with each strike. He pauses, moves something in front of me. He lifts the blindfold. âPickâ he says. Thereâs a ping pong paddle and a belt laid out. I let out a whimper and point to the belt.
I start to lose myself then. The office I just came from, the clothes I wore, the concerns that raced through my head, the important-feeling adult job that I carry with pride. I was reduced to a small squirming girl, with nothing to say but âYes sirâ between my gasps and yelps.
Again a pause and a lift of the blindfold - another choice. There are two vicious looking paddles and I point to one. He lets out a laugh and says âWrong choice. Lay down flat on your stomach.â I clench at the sheets and sweat as he hits me over and over again.
Another pause and already Iâm conditioned to fear the breaks, knowing something worse is next. He lifts the blindfold and I shrink - in front of me is a shock collar.
âYou have a choice,â he offers, âthis or a mystery item.â I point to the shock collar, preferring a known suffering over an unknown one. He sits down and drapes me over his knees. âThe trick to that question,â he says as he gets my ass in place, âis that youâll get the mystery item after this anyway.â I let out a sob and he places the shock collar on my bruised and aching behind. âYouâre lucky,â he says  âit hurts much worse as a collar.â
The electricity goes through me like fire and bee stings. I squirm helplessly and hear his amusement as he says âIf you donât sit still Iâll turn it up.â Â The shocks continue - time has gotten strange and I canât remember the order of things. But I know that thereâs more to come.
âDo you want me to stop?â
âYes,â my voice is shaking âPlease, Sir.â
âYou seem like an experienced sub. You know that you can either be hit or suck cock, donât you?â I nod, sliding down between his legs, eager for anything that saves me from the shocks.
âAre you good at begging? I want you to beg for it.â
I writhe on the ground between his knees. âPlease. Please. Please let me have it. Please let me suck your cock. Please sir.â Â
He grabs my hair and puts me back over his knees. âYouâre acting like a little slut, you shouldnât do that.â He puts the shock collar on me and sends fire through me, making me scream.
He puts the collar down, stands up, and pushes my face into the mattress, almost gently. Iâm naked on my hands and knees, my covered eyes buried in the sheets Iâve been grabbing at desperately.
âSpread your ass open with your hands.â
I move slowly, embarrassed by how exposed I am, how unforgiving the daylight is. âStay like that.â He orders as he walks downstairs.
I hear noises, and have no idea what to expect. He returns and sits on the bed, his hands preparing something.
âI find there are generally two kind of people,â he muses as he works âthe kind that love sucking cock and the kind that hate it. Which one are you?â
âI thought you might say that,â he says as he slides something into my ass. I gasp at the sensation. âHave you ever had ginger in your ass?â He asks as he grabs my hair with his hands to move my head. âA long time ago, Sir.â
âIs it starting to burn?â I start to say yes but he shoves his cock in my mouth. He moves my hand to hold in the ginger. âKeep it in there and suck.â
I move my head and free hand furiously, trying to please him while the burn of the ginger intensifies. I whimper and moan as I work through the pain, knowing that the better I do the longer I get to suck cock instead of get hit.
âYouâre being a good little slut. Do you know what good sluts get?â He pulls my head up and looks at me. My blindfold had fallen off and I looked at his eyes. âI donât know, Sir.â Iâm a puddle, a whimpering mess. He could say anything and I wouldnât object.
âGood sluts get fucked in the pussy.â
I feel myself get wet and start to throb. Iâm stunned at my physical reaction, at the genuine want of my body after so much pain.
He flips me over and folds me in half, legs up like a doll, a toy, a baby. Forcing himself inside of me, he goes to work using my body and my eyes roll back.
âThank you Sirâ I hear myself moan, over and over.
He continues to use me and then abruptly stops and grabs my head.
âFinish me with your mouth.â
I suck eagerly, reduced to a sex-craved object with no room for other thoughts. He cums in my mouth and we both collapse.
Afterwards, we lie in bed and he strokes my hair. The humanness of it all begins to settle in. We smile and talk. We move the towel to make sure my period doesnât stain the sheets. Thereâs a small copper taste in my mouth since he used my pussy and then my mouth.
âIâm very fond of youâ he says. I glow inside and curl into him.
âYou probably already know thisâŚâ he says as he looks into my eyes. I smile, expecting him to comment on my beauty, my sexiness, the wonder of our scene.
âBut your face is pretty much covered in blood.â
(featuring @the-blue-of-noon and myself.)
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