Okay here's the scoop, I've joined the Spanking Challenge A-Z. The idea is to start with A and make your way through the alphabet, a letter a day. So this is how it will work. I will post a new letter each day...except on Saturdays which is already full with two other weekly posts. By the end of the month, I should reach Z...so why not join me and root me on?
A word of warning however...although it's not necessarily supposed to be sexually themed challenge - just an effort to get me blogging more frequently, Livvy may have other ideas. We all know that rascally muse of mine won't let me get away with posting something mundane or platonic, so don't be surprised if most, if not all my posts have a sexual vibe to them.
With that being said....lets welcome letter G!
Today we're talking all about gags. A sexy little piece of equipment in the bdsm world. I still can remember the first time I read about a ball gag in an erotic romance. At first, I was like...really? Then as I read the scene, I saw the appeal of it. Especially in those role-playing fantasies where one partner wants to play the unwilling captive. Of course it can be used as well to muffle a submissive's cries. Either was, though it can be very hot. Like this piece of a flash I wrote almost two years ago...called A Master's Due: A Submissive's Choice. Enjoy!
Below her the glittering lights, the loud cheers as the crowd prepared to count down to the New Year, was nothing but a blur as Miranda strained against the bonds holding her arms above her head. Pressed up against the glass in Sir’s apartment overlooking Times Square, she could see every bit of the festivities below while in the other room she could hear Sir’s guests getting ready to celebrate the dropping of the huge crystal ball. She didn’t know if his guests realized he had a trussed-up submissive in his bedroom, but even if they did there was nothing she would do about it. It was her Master’s right to show her off if he wanted to. She lived to serve him and had for the past seven years.
The slender toy he’d inserted inside of her panties was buzzing away against her most sensitive flesh as her nipples rubbed against the cool glass. A low moan built behind the ball gag as she heard a sudden burst of sound when the bedroom door behind her opened. In the reflection of the glass she could make out the tall form of her Sir as he entered the room. She barely noticed that he’d left the door slightly ajar as his voice, low and hard, wrapped around her.
“There’s my little slut. Trussed all up like a gift for me birthday.” His Scottish accent, which only came out at times like this, sounded in her ear as he nipped it.
She nodded helpless, unable to say anything, her only way to communicate with him, the small red rubber ball she held in her left hand. If she dropped it, all of this would stop. Not that she wanted it to, when every one of her senses was alive. The feel of cold against her breasts, the fiery burn of the lubricant Sir had used on her pussy, the sound of the people less than twenty feet from her, reminding her that that there was a very real chance of being caught in this position. The sight of her own face in the window and thick burnished gold of Sir’s hair as his mouth made its way down her shoulder. Even the taste of the ball gag against her tongue was fused with the scent of her Sir’s cologne - both powerful sensations to be savored. This was where she belonged and she knew it.
“You’re so damned hot in your submission, Miranda.” His fingers traced over the sides of her breasts. “So different than when you order me around at work. It makes me wonder how the rest of the office would react if they knew what a little submissive slut you are.” His fingers slid between her and the glass to squeeze at the tips of her nipples. “I bet they’d be shocked. How the high and mighty Miranda Lewis, CEO extraordinaire, allows her Head of Security to tie her up…” The rough denim of his jeans scraped over the tender flesh of her inner thighs. “…begs him, no, begs me, to allow her to feel the sting of the lash against her skin, to strike over and over until she’s hoarse from screaming because the pain and pleasure of it. “
She cried out as one finger slipped under the edge of her panties and flicked the toy on high, sending intense vibrations over her clit. Then the heat of his body was back. “You’ve been beautiful in your submission, Miranda, but it’s time to decide if you want another year of this…” his fingers traced over the slender leather collar around her throat. The same one he’d placed around her neck seven years ago, when she accepted her position in their private lives as his slave. “…or if you want to be free… to return to your old life of calling all the shots…” Her heart stopped as he toyed with the lock on the back of the collar. “…of being responsible for everything that happens in your life.” He stepped away, his voice cool as if it didn’t matter how she responded. “You have less than three minutes to decide. You know the cost.“ His hand brushed down her spine. “Ten strokes from my crop, here and now, with our guests in the other room as we count down to the New Year.” His hand abandoned her. “I respect your need to be discreet, but this is the due you must pay to have your pleasure – and to be mine for another year.”
Bending her head, she didn’t have to think about her choice. There was no way she’d leave him willingly. He completed her. Gave her a release no other man or Dom had been able to achieve. Simply put, he was her home. Opening her right hand, she allowed the green ball to drop to the floor.
“So be it.” The whoosh of the crop through the air was her only warning as the word “ten” echoed from the living room. The sting, the burn as another blow closely followed the first. This time it landed on her opposite shoulder blade. Relaxing into the blows, she felt the agony, embraced the pain as her due, and let her body float towards subspace as he moved his strikes around her back. By the time the crystal ball kissed it’s base, declaring the New Year had arrived, she was soaring, barely aware of her Sir’s removal of her bindings.
As she came back down, she found her back on fire, a pleasant reminder of the due she paid to be his, as he slowly dressed her, righting her skirt, sliding the silk blouse he’d bunched at her waist to bare her back for his crop back into position. As his thick fingers easily slipped the buttons back into their holes, she realized the pleasant buzzing between her thighs had stopped. Against her hip she could feel the press of his erection. He hadn’t taken his pleasure yet, but then neither had she.
“You’ll be coming soon, sweetheart.” His dark emerald eyes soft but glowing as he gazed at her, his thumb gently rubbing over her slightly swollen lower lip. “Once we see our guests off, we will share our first pleasure of the New Year.”
“Yes, Sir.” She nuzzled his hand, everything was right in her world once more.
©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.
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