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Open (BDSM Erotica)


pomonagirl

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i'm kneeling on the big black pillow that He has placed in the middle of the large, sparse space. hands bound behind my back, the red blindfold covering my eyes.

i hear Him step away, then return. sightless, i gaze up at Him, adoringly. waiting, peacefully and with perfect trust.

i feel it first on my cheek, the rough edge of the tip of the crop. caressing and teasing me, He slides it down my face, to my neck. to the tops of my breasts, straining against the too-tight red bra.

the tip leaves my skin--just for a second--then He brings it back down. hard. not too hard but, hard enough. a pepper of quick smacks on one breast, then repeated on the other.

"Open", He says. i open my mouth.

i feel the thin shaft of the crop against my tongue and teeth. "Close." i close my mouth, holding the toy in place.

He steps back, and for a moment...i peek...(is it a kink to sneak the occasional peek through blindfolds?)

i am rewarded with the sight of His body: His muscular, golden brown torso, ending in the ubiquitous tight black jeans. i watch as He unbuckles the fly...i watch as He takes His cock--His glorious, thick, long, hard cock--in His hand. rubbing it, admiring His work. admiring me.

"Open."

the toy is taken from between my lips. again, i feel the tip of it, now tracing my breasts, down to my stomach. up along my sides and back. again, i feel it leave my skin, and come back down, hard. again, and again.

He is a Master at His craft; and i, His willing canvas. submissive and Dominant, in perfect harmony.

"Open."

i open my mouth. this time, it's not the thin shaft of the crop i feel, but something much larger, and warmer.

i open my mouth wider to accept the head of His cock. without sight, or the use of my hands, i am truly at His mercy. i wrap my lips around it, and try to relax.

He nudges it in, slowly. i try to make my mouth supple, elastic, as He begins to thrust. He is moving slowly--so very many things i admire about this Man; His restraint, His timing, chief among them.

am i thrusting back, against Him? i'm not sure...i am lost in this moment, blind, and bound, existing only for His pleasure.

He withdraws.

this time, it is His hands on my body, slapping me, striking my breasts, my thighs. the feel of it hurts more than the crop, i think. the sound it makes, as it reverberates through the hundred year old brick and hardwood, is different. louder. thunderous.

"Open."

again, the thin, metallic shaft of the crop. He steps behind me, crouching low. He unhooks my bra. my hands are still bound--i am *** as He takes each strap from my shoulders, pulling it down. freeing my breasts.

"Open."

i open my mouth, the toy is taken from it's holding place. my now-exposed breasts are peppered with strikes from the crop. am i smiling? i start to feel giddy.

"Open."

this time, i feel it before the word is fully out of His mouth. His cock. i open to accept. how i adore the feeling of His cock in my mouth. how it conforms to His shape. how the whole entire world just slips away and i am warm, and wet, and He picks up speed, never thrusting too hard though. no gagging tonight; just acceptance.

"Open."

again, the sharp sting of the crop, again, the quick flurry of blows. He is above me, then behind me. He crouches low, circling me, landing the crop with His experts' touch. in my minds eye i try to picture it.

over and over again--the crop, His hands, His cock.

"Open."

such a simple word, to denote a simple action. but is anything so simple, with Him?

"Open."

i open for Him; my mouth, my body. my mind, my trust, and heart.

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epilogue:

sometime during this little game, i had lost my balance a bit, the weight repositioning itself on my calves and feet in such a way that my feet began to fall asleep. once i feel Him step away, and i feel this part is over, or ending, i smile big, sheepishly, and tell Him what has happened.

calmly, He unbuckles my wrists, and i use my hands to take some of the weight off of my tingling feet. He waits...He is so patient. after a few moments, He asks if i am ready to try to stand.

"Yes Sir" i say, and suddenly, His arm is around me. He helps me up, so tenderly, carefully. i stand and stretch against Him, enjoying this unexpected embrace. slowly, i flex my feet and calves, grimacing through the odd sensation as the *** flow returns.

"Are you ready to walk?" He asks, the kindness so clear in His voice. "Yes Sir" i say, with a bit of a giggle in my voice. honestly, i would be happy here, in this embrace, feeling so safe in His arms. but i know there is more to come, much more, as He leads me to the low black futon bed.

 

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written by pomonagirl, 2019

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