Posts tagged ‘gag’

April 15th, 2014

Tied and Teased

I have you strip for me, your eyes not meeting mine.  You stand, waiting for me, goosebumps forming on your skin, even though the room is warm.  My hand gently strokes your face, my lips skimming over yours, not quite touching and I pull back as you try to kiss me.  A pout from you, a grin from me and my hand runs down your body, ever so gently.  As your eyes close in the moment of pleasure, I push you back onto the bed and straddle you so you can’t even think of moving.  I grab my rope and bind each of your limbs to a corner of the bed, simple, quick, secure.
Now I have you where I want, I can take my time with you.  I kiss you deeply before pushing the black ball gag into your mouth. A snort of derision, a slap across your face. You pull at the ropes that hold you down, unable to fight back, unable to move much.  My hands trace across your chest, down your arms, barely touching.  Another shiver.  I continue to tease, lightly caressing you, focusing on your upper body for now.  A gentle flick at your nipples and you shiver again.  I can feel your cock twitching against me, knowing what it longs for, knowing that you can feel the heat from my cunt as I am playing with you.
I move downwards and grasp your thighs.  Fingertips drifting up the insides, stopping before I touch your balls.  Another shiver, a moan of disappointment muffled through the gag.  So I shall carry on like this for as long as I can manage.  I want you on edge, I want you to be desperate, I want you to have no other thoughts than your deepest desires.  My hands continue to trace across your body; along arms, up legs, down sides and still I avoid the obvious parts.  My touch is getting firmer, yet, I drift my hand so gently across your balls, your cock, it twitching and hardening. You whimper through the gag and so I pause.  My hands start to roam my own body, hunting out my sweet spots, moaning as I catch them, my desire heightened by the look on your face, the twitch of your cock.
I grab the paracord from the side of the bed and pull it around your genitals, a make shift cock ring.  I wrap the cord around the top of your ball sack, stretching you, pulling your balls down.  I can feel how aroused they are as I tie the wraps off, leaving a length of cord.  My nails scrape along the underside of your rock hard cock and dig into the skin of your scrotum.  Your muffled gasp and moan, your twitching cock, all turn me on that little more.
I lean over the side of the bed to grab the nipple clamps, making sure you get a clear view of my arse, a glimpse of my cunt.  I straddle you, pushing my wetness against you, letting you know how much I enjoy this.  I grasp your nipple and pinch it between the clamp, releasing slowly.  You wince.  I repeat it with the second one then sit back.  I flick each clamp to see you flinch in pain, then run the extra length of paracord slowly up your stomach and attach it to the chain between the clamps, making sure it is just tight enough to pull at both ends a little.  I pull slightly and grin, seeing you gasp.  I press my knee up between your legs and you pull back, tightening the cord, pulling on the clamps, moaning in pain and pleasure.  I giggle sadistically and you snort.
“You love it, Boy.  Your cock betrays you to me.  Now I want you to suck on cock for me.”
I switch the gag to a dildo one, fastening the straps securely so that I can mount your face and push the dildo into my aching cunt.  I hover, teasing you with the smell and the sight, until I slowly lower myself right onto it.  I can’t help but let out a groan of pleasure as I feel it filling me up.  I ride it, slowly at first, taking cues from your moans of desire until I lose myself and fuck it as hard as I can, coming hard and fast, over and over again, my come dripping all over your face.  I take off the gag and brutally force it to the back of your throat, wanting to see you lick it clean, wanting to see how easily you can take cock in your mouth.
“That’s right, my little slut.  Show me what you’ll do when I get you a real cock to suck!”
You whimper but continue as you have been told until I am satisfied.
I pull on a black latex glove and run it over your lips.  You take it into your mouth and get my fingers nice and wet.
“Good boy”
I gently push into your asshole and start to milk you slowly.  Another finger easily slips in and I continue, backing off every time I feel you clench tightly around me.  Soon, I have four fingers in there and you’re begging me to come.
“Not until my whole fist is in there, Boy” and I reach for the lube.
September 26th, 2013

Fear Him

Tied down
Gagged
Naked
Sat up but baring all
Restrained
Rope across my neck, no pressure until I strain
My fear
Brutal canes
Haphazard hits
My obvious arousal
Random marks
His cold eyes
My fear
And still my arousal
The threat of the gun
The warning shots
My fear
His cruel laughter
My heart racing
His mind games
His blows with words, with taunts
Searching his face, searching his eyes, searching for something
Finding only my fear
Eventually my tears
His smile at that
Unbound, still gagged
Begging to be used
Begging for him
My broken body
My adrenaline filled shakes
My smiles
His arms, his safety, his comfort

September 5th, 2013

Consequences for a brat

This is a sequel to The Brat. Again, I’m not 100% about it but it has got me writing again, plus there is a possible 3rd part to come too.

Alone, crying to myself in my confinement, I long for you to come back now. I want to apologise, to say I’m sorry for my indiscretions, to beg at your feet. I hate to disappoint you. Time passes and the tears dry on my cheeks. Where are you? I want to shout out for you, but I know better now. I have to wait, be patient, to learn my lesson.

I must have fallen asleep as I am suddenly aware of a crick in my neck and the clatter of metal against metal. I open my eyes and there you are, opening the door. A smile breaks out on my face, until I see yours. There is a cold, hard look in your eyes and your lips are drawn in a thin line. I don’t think you are about to forgive and forget and why should you?

“Out”

There is nothing in your voice that hints at warmth and I stumble out of the cage, hugging my near naked body, shy and desperate for your caring arms around me.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. I really am. I won’t do it again. I’ll be good.”

You don’t even look at me as I talk to you, your back turned, moving furniture around, tidying the room.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what I was doing.”

Still you ignore me and I shiver, feeling myself on the edge of tears again.

“Please let me make it up to you, Sir, please. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything? Really?” you question, with the hint of a smirk.

“Of course, Sir.” Desperate to please, eager for you to forgive me.

“Hmmm” you don’t sound convinced and I try to look at remorseful as I can. “You need to prove that you have learnt your lesson. Brats are not worthy of my attention and I won’t think twice about locking you back in that cage if you disappoint me again.”

My head bows and I feel tears silently running down my face. A fist in my hair and I am being dragged across the room. You pull me up to face you and I am suddenly scared. A hand across my mouth and nose, held there until my fingers are trying to pull you off me. I can’t breath and am starting to panic.

Released and I gasp for air but I have barely recovered before you start the process again. My head is getting fuzzy, my mind blanking and suddenly I can breath again. Once more, I feel you at my throat, once more my breath taken from me. Controlled by you. One of my basic human needs and you have taken its control away from me. A reminder of exactly who I belong to.

“Be thankful I am letting you breath at all.”

You bend me over the back of a chair and nudge my feet apart slightly with your boot. My knickers are ripped off and I feel ashamed, degraded, used. I feel you trailing a cane across my skin, my back, my arse, my thighs.

“100 strokes. One for each minute I had to keep you locked in that cage.”

I let out a whimper and you tut. Breathing deeply, I know this is going to push me but I have to take this for you. I have to show you I can behave. I have to prove I am still your good girl. Waiting, anticipating, fearful. Feeling exposed as a draft skims across my naked cunt. Hoping you have changed your mind, that it’s all just a game to mess with my head but I know, deep down, that is wishful thinking. Waiting for the cane is almost as excruciating as the physical pain it can cause and I stand as still as I can. Still waiting. You must have gone to do something, I get fidgety and move out of position, glancing around the room, just as you come in through the door.  You’re carrying restraints, a heavy wooden paddle and something else, black and bulky.

“You can’t even stay still for a minute, can you.”  It’s not a question, more a statement of my disobedience.  “I thought I might need these.”

He attaches straps at my wrists and ankles without care, padlocking them shut.  A leather hood placed over my head removes my sight.  I am just thinking that I am lucky to be able to breath through my mouth when a ball gag is shoved in there and buckled to the hood.  I will myself to breath slowly, knowing how small the air holes by my nostrils are, knowing you will be displeased if I panic.  You bend me back over the chair and fasten my legs apart, my hands together.

“You shall count each stroke for me.  If you forget where you are up to, we start again.  If I can’t understand you, I will assume it wasn’t hard enough and we won’t count that one.”

My whimper comes out as a muffle.

“What was that, girl?  I couldn’t hear you.” Amusement obvious in your voice.

You start to beat me, slowly, with force and I manage to count well enough for you, numbers uttered once the initial pain subsides, once my brain clears enough.  Each blow sears through my backside.  A leather filled intake of breath follows and I struggle to stay still against my fastenings.  Another number, another stroke.  We’re at about 40 when you seem to kick it up a notch and I start to falter more.  The pain isn’t subsiding enough to let me think even the simple act of counting and I can barely make clear sounds.  I am trying to not cry with both the pain and your certain disapproval.

“Hmmm, I don’t think I heard that.  What number are we on, girl?”

“I don’t know, Sir.” Tears pricking at my eyes.

“Oh, dear.  You know what that means.  Start counting again.”  You sigh, as though you expected me to fail.

On the next few blows, I try to count but I know you can’t understand me.  The blows continue.

“Quit counting, pathetic girl.  They obviously didn’t teach you very well at school.  I will continue until I am done with you.  Until I make you bleed.”

I slump and you beat me, the cane biting into my skin, my arse stinging like I’ve never felt before.  I feel defeated, broken, helpless.  I try to take it as well as I can, knowing that I deserve this, knowing that I should never have acted the way I did.

You pause for the briefest of moments and I take the chance to try and slow my breathing.  I don’t assume you have finished but what comes next was not expected.  A series of strokes down the backs of my thighs, feeling as though a blade has been drawn across my skin.  My breath is stuck in my throat, my head is swimming with the pain but there is no more.  You have stopped.  You are unchaining me, helping me stand, carefully taking off the hood.  Once my eyes are used to the light again, I dare to look up.  Your face is hard to read.  Not blank, exactly, but it’s not obvious how you are feeling.

“Get dressed” as you turn to tidy up. “I want to take you on a little car ride.  Think carefully about what may be a suitable outfit.”

Immediately, scary but slightly exciting thoughts run through my head.  I take myself out of the room, wincing slightly with each step, thinking of the perfect outfit to show off my new marks to the world.

May 22nd, 2009

See No Evil

One of the things I love the most is sensory deprevation, especially being blindfolded. There’s just something in that anticipation of what’s going to happen to you, not being able to see…your hearing perks up and you start to second guess those little noises around you. Was that the click of a lighter? Will I feel the drip of hot wax hitting my bare skin? What about the clank of his belt hitting the floor…will I be feeling his hard cock slam right into me or is he just going to use me and come all over me?

Combine this with gags and restraints and I am completely yours.