She groaned as his teeth tugged on the sensitive flesh of her bare shoulder, her entire body tingling with gooseflesh. Only this particular man: her lover, her husband, the father of her children, and her Master had this effect on her.
“Master…” The soft plea passed her lips unbidden. She knew she wasn’t supposed to give into the temptation to speak, but every nerve ending was crying out for more. More touches, nibbles, and more of him. She was a wanton slut, and she knew it, but it didn’t stop her from begging.
“Shhh,” he whispered against her skin, holding her closer to him. Against the back of her arms and her back, she could feel the rippling muscles of his chest as he held her tight against him, with one strong arm pressing but not rubbing over her aching nipples. She wanted to squirm, do something that would give them the friction she desired.
“Do you need another round on the spanking bench, slave?” His whispered threat stirred the silky fine hair at the base of her neck.
Her breath caught at the thought, even as her already warmed bottom clenched. Her last round was still fresh in her mind, and as much as she loved the feel of the paddle against her bottom, she desperately wanted – no needed - for him to fill her with the hard cock wedged between her ass cheeks. “No, Master…I’ll be good.”
“Yes you will. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” His teeth tugged on her earlobe for a brief second before he bent her over the desk in front of them with a gentle shove, his arm cushioning her landing. She whimpered as he kicked her legs apart far enough for him to step between them. “My good girl.” The possession and pride in his voice settled her like nothing else could.
“Yes, Master.” She panted, her arms flexing at the base of her back where he’d bound them.
“Too tight?” His voice became husky with desire, as his fingers traced over the rope holding her, checking it for tightness. In her new position, it had tightened a bit more, but not painfully so.
“No, Master.” She wiggled her butt hoping to draw his attention away from her bindings. She wanted him to fuck her now. She’d been wet ever since they entered their special playroom, kept carefully under lock and key, over an hour ago. It’d been too long since they’d played.
“Hmmm…” the rumble from behind her was followed by a slight pinching of her fingertips. “This won’t do.” His tone grew colder. “You lied, slave. I will not risk your physical well-being because you’re horny.”
She wanted to cry out in protest, as he pulled her back up by her arms. “I’m sorry…it’s just I need you in me…” Her concern grew as he freed her wrists. Surely he wasn’t going to stop… “Master?”
Her ass lit up as he brought his hand down sharply on the already tender flesh. “Bad slave. I should walk away, send you to your room, but…”
She latched onto his ‘but’ like it was a lifeline, despite his deep, icy tone. “But what, Master? I’ll do anything for you.”
“…but I was looking forward to fucking this tight little ass. It's been too long since I've felt it around my cock...” His fingers ran down her crack to brush over her rosette. Her hips lifted of their own accord, especially when he buried two fingers in her pussy to wet them, before returning them to her tight back hole. Using her juices as a lubricant, he breached her with the inevitable slight burn welcome as she panted.
It was always like this. She was a freak. She knew it. She loved the bite of anal sex even as she shied away from it, craved the erotic pain like it was air she could breathe, but at the same time fought her need. She wanted it, but didn’t…and thank heaven above her Master understood – understood how she wanted to be pushed out of her comfort zone, to be made to do nothing but feel. No worries about getting the kids to soccer practice on time, no PTA meetings to attend, grocery shopping to finish, or bills to pay.
“Please…Master.” Tears coursed down her cheeks.
“Oh I’m going to.” He pressed her back down. “Grab the edge of the desk and no matter what I do - you will not let go – do you understand?”
She nodded as she obeyed, wrapping her fingers around the polished wood. “Yes, Master.”
His body heat left hers, and she could hear him on the other side of the playroom, opening up drawers and closing them. A few moments later he returned. There was a snap of a bottle opening followed by the scent of cinnamon filling the air before she felt the press of something large and slippery against her pussy, then it slid inside of her. “This will keep that pussy happy while I play.”
She groaned as the vibrator buzzed to life. The vibrations and the slight tingle of the self-heating lubricant had her moaning softly. Behind her she could her his raspy breathing as more cinnamon filled the air.
“Son of a bitch, I forgotten how much that stuff tingles.” His groan told its own story as she felt the wet head of him press against her anus. His cock was followed by another squirt of cool lube – which instantly heated up. Not potent enough to do physical harm, it was more than sufficient to warm super-sensitive nerves and send her right out of her mind.
“Master!” Her head tipped back and her fingers tightened on the wood, as he inched his way inside until he was finally seated to the hilt. She was full: her pussy packed with a vibrator, and her ass stuffed with her Master’s cock. She would’ve flown away if his body hadn’t held her down.
“Gotta fuck.” He withdrew almost all the way before slamming back inside, his movement rocking the vibrator inside her and rubbing her clit against the edge of the desk. She whimpered softly, her body straining towards release.
“Do not come, slave!” He warned her as his hips moved faster and she flew closer to the edge. Hanging on took all her concentration, but she couldn’t disobey her master. She had to please him. She mentally began to recite the multiplication tables in her head – anything to keep from coming. It was working too, until he lifted one of her legs off the floor to spread her further, allowing the cool air coming from the fan behind them to wash over their joined sexes.
“Master!” Her cry didn’t seem to be lost on him, because as she slid into the abyss, she heard him order her to come. Giving in, she allowed herself to fly higher and climax more deeply than she could ever remember, knowing that even as he shuddered through his own orgasm, her Master would be there when she came back down.
©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.