Sunday, February 2, 2014

wet, wild & punished

I am in need!
Tomorrow is the cure for my needy girl.

Last week he punished me with the cane. The first time ever for the cane.
He lay me on my back, chains pulled my legs open and back, wrists joined to those ankles. He took the cane and applied it to my mound. Gently at first. I thought this is easy! The strokes got harder but not unbearable.

'But Sir I thought you were going to cane my cunt. My pink soft slick flesh.'

'So I was'.

I squirmed as the cane came down and the sting made my breath heavy. When he was finished he unchained and unstrapped his girl. He removed my cuffs but left the little black suede strap around my throat that cried submissive in metal script.

'Outside.' he commanded.

What! outside! nekkid! but for the throat strap that belies my nature.

He took my arm and as I was staring at him in disbelief, man-handled me to the door, threw it open and pushed me out into the bright sunlight. It was an enclosed space. He directed me to the lawn where I stood, waiting while he unravelled the hose a little. He pointed the hose at his girl and turned the pressure on. I felt a sharp breath enter my lungs as the cold hit me. The water poured over his girl drenching her head to toes. I stood and though it was a warm day, began to shiver, my hair plastered to my head. Black trails running down my cheek from my eyes. The delight on Sir's face was plain to see.

He drove me back inside. Under the air conditioning unit I began to shiver even more. He tied my wrists, winding the rope three times around each and binding them together. He strung me to the ceiling, my wrists stretched above my head.

He worked my body with the soft flogger. Each strand stung on my cold wet body. I whimpered as the leather curled around my body forming welts on my icy skin.  He worked with a deft hand over my chilled breasts and nipples sitting proud. With each stroke I squealed and groaned. The pain is different when the skin is wet and cold I was discovering. This flogger that he used was usually meditative for me. It massaged my flesh on a normal day. Today, it felt like it bit into my flesh. It grabbed at my skin and pulled, threatening to take my skin with it as it flew away from me. I didn't care. This was a whole new experience and I was lost in it. There was no respite from the blows, I turned this way and that, hung from the ceiling like a beast in a slaughter house. He kept the blows coming, working every square inch of my body.

He leant into me from behind, his voice though only a whisper, filled my ear with his lust and raw energy.

'I'm going to fuck your arse.'

He pulled me toward his hardness and push into me. Whimpering, my eyes watered from the pain as he pushed the bulging head of his cock past the tight resistance of my arse. I willed myself to relax, to let Sir in, to let him claim my arse as his own. Dripping, sodden on the concrete floor he place my hanging body on his cock. He pushed into my arse until he could go no further and fucked his girl so hard she thought she might split in two.

I was wonderfully grateful and spent. I had been used for his pleasure in the most raw of ways. I was lustful and raw myself. Lost in being a true fuck toy, His fuck toy. A rareness enveloped me. I felt Mastered, Owned, Property. My head spun with all the wickedness in me.

'I'm Yours, I'm Your's.' I whispered to him.

'Yes you are,' he confirmed as he held me, still hanging from his ceiling.
 
 
 
photograhper unknown

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