My mouth closes involuntarily at his words, the response Pavlovian and automatic.
“This is a flogger,” he says, holding it in front of my face so I can see. “Do you trust me, pet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck, you know what that phrase and your obedience does to me.”
My eyes travel to his crotch, and I can see the outline of his cock pressing against his pants, aching to be free.
He drops the flogger and grabs his belt with one hand, removing it in one fluid motion as it cracks in the air, his tattooed bicep flexing with the movement. Immediately I clench my thighs against the bench. I can feel my arousal dripping from me.
“Look at me. Eyes on mine.”
My gaze shifts up to his and I’m stunned by the affection I see there. “Such an obedient pet. You’re doing so well. Always the best student for me, giving your attention to what edifies you.”
When he bends down to pick up the flogger, I watch enraptured, waiting for my next command.
“Place your cheek against the bench and close your eyes,” he says, and I comply.
I can hear the rustling of the strands of the flogger, and I imagine him stroking it in his hand. His movements halt and I feel the leathery fringe tickle my arms and back. He takes his time, pulling the braids against my body, lighting up my flesh with each pass as goosebumps prickle my skin. I let out needy whimpers each time he circles my bottom.
Please. Please. Please.I need more.
More pressure.
More of him.
More bites of pain only for him to soothe it away with his tongue.
Suddenly my backside is assaulted with tiny sharp pricks of pain. It’s oddly comforting, the discomfort lasting a second before my skin tingles in a delicious sensation. And then his warm hand caresses and cups each cheek. His touch feels reverent, and I fight to stay lucid as a surge of pleasure courses through me like a tidal wave threatening to pull me under.
“You like that,” he muses, and I nod slightly against the bench.
He repeats his movements with the flogger. Spending several minutes punishing my ass, gradually increasing the intensity and duration before lavishing me with soft touches, kneading and kissing my skin. I don’t realize how much I’m bucking against the bench until his words pull me back.
“You only come when I tell you to, pet. And from what I can tell, you’re three seconds away from humping that bench into completion. Can you feel the mess you’re making rubbing that perfect pink cunt all over my bench?”
“Yes, sir,” I whine. I’m needy and out of breath, stilling my movements. Barely holding on. I need this man inside of me. I need him to make me come.
The sound of his zipper opening is loud in my ears as I squeeze my eyes tight, bracing for the sensation of him filling me.
When the tip of his cock brushes my lips, slowly gliding back and forth through my wetness, I shudder. And when he pushes in seconds later, I gasp.
We’ve yet to try this position, and it’s an entirely different sensation than the ones we’ve done before. It feels like he’s everywhere, filling every inch of me, his cock impossibly huge as he gently pulses in and out so I can adjust to him.
“I will never, never get over this,” His words are choppy, strained as he pushes in, punctuating each word with a thrust. “This.”Thrust.“Perfect.”Thrust.“Fucking.”Thrust.“Cunt.”Thrust.“The way it stretches for me.”Thrust.“The way it flutters and pulses around me.”Thrust.“The way I feel when you’re stuffed so full of me, I can’t tell where I end and you begin. Fuck.”
His words are my undoing as I fall over the edge, my orgasm crashing into me in wave after wave, as bursts of light explode against the backs of my eyes. It’s so intense, so unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
“That’s it. Come on my cock, pet. Squeeze it, show me how good I make you feel. Make a mess all over me. I want to be covered in your cum, knowing I’m the only man to ever make you come undone.”
I can feel his movements slow as I come down from the high of my orgasm. When he pulls out of me, I whimper loudly. The number of times this man has drawn that kind of sound out of me tonight should be embarrassing.
His warm hand caresses my cheek and my eyes flutter open. He moves slightly, blocking the overhead light from shining in my eyes as I squint up at him.
“Are you still with me?” He presses his mouth to my forehead, placing several soft kisses there. I nod my agreement.
There’s gentle tugging at my wrists and ankles as he loosens my restraints and helps me sit up. Bending down to look me in the eyes, his stare is penetrating as though he’s trying to peer into my soul.
