Because She Loves Me….

It’s probably been a good half hour, likely more, before she comes back up the steps. I arch my neck up to take a look as she crests the top step. She has changed; my innocent lace covered angel has transformed into a leather clad dominatrix. It is an outfit I know, thigh high boots, tight corset laced up tight in the back pushing her boobs up and out, collar, and cap. All black leather. Evil looking but hot. She wears this occasionally during our normal sex encounters and then on previous birthday bondage play. Added to the outfit today is a strap-on around her waist and a flogger in her hand. That clues me in on what to expect next. Mixed feelings when I see both.

She comes right up to me and yells, “You Son of a Bitch! You raped my innocent little sister. Filled her with your dirty spunk. Ate her out! You’re going to pay big time.” She tried to sound convincing in her roleplay, but acting was never her strong suit. Singing, she has a beautiful voice, but an actress, no. That doesn’t mean the physical aspects of this play falls short as she begins to swing the flogger targeting my cock, balls and nipples. In our past bondage play, one of the things that disappointed me most was her hesitance to provide punishments. She didn’t want to hurt me and thus her attempts to paddle me, whip me, whatever, fell well short of satisfying my wants and needs. It would make her feel bad and not wanting to play at all. Someone has given her a pep talk. I’m not whipped like I was by the Doms in the Vegas dungeon, but I am being effectively thrashed. I’m pleased. I’m proud of her.

It doesn’t go on long, I crave more actually. She has other plans for me, and she wanted to get on with them. I am released from the floor, helped up and directed back to the Workmate. This time she has me stand up in front of what one would consider the front side. She has put a pillow on top of the work surface and wrapped it in place with plastic wrap. Not sure when she did that. She secures my ankle cuffs to the front legs and then bends me over the top so my chest rests on it and secures my wrist cuffs to the feet of the front legs. I am now in the perfect position to have my butt fucked and that is exactly what I expect.

It is, however, not what she does first. This position presents my butt cheeks well too. She is still playing the vengeful dominatrix hell bent on punishing me. I can’t see what she is doing but upon the first swat I know. She has my leather paddle from the trunk. She has hit me for real, and it smarts. Then a second swing lands on the other cheek. Though startled, I still don’t cry out. I have been previously trained. Third and fourth hits land. I feel her rub the cheeks as she checks out her work.  I must be getting red. Then five/six and seven/eight. Real hits. Another rub and a comment that was something like, “Cool, bright red, nice, I think I can get into this.” I then here another hit and it’s not me; I think she just took a swat on her own ass. Her words this time sounded real, I think, at least for the moment, she meant it, even tried it. Wack numbers nine and ten come in maybe a little harder. Is she done at ten? No, as eleven and twelve land. Still at full force. Is she counting? I think she was, as she stopped at twenty, ten each cheek. I know my cheeks must be beet red. She then utters to herself “Nice work girl, I think he liked that just like they said.” Then to me she says, “You OK, happy?”

“Yes Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am. Your Toy loved it.” Selfishly I wanted to provide positive praise and encouragement.

I feel the butt plug go silent and feel her pull it out. It comes out easier than it went in, but still not pleasant, it is large. She puts it somewhere. I’m a bit relieved. In Vegas it would have been put in my mouth to be cleaned. She wastes no time. She is at my mouth. “Make it wet, real wet, or expect some pain.” This time she said her lines with a little more punch but still words that I haven’t heard her say before. I do what I’m told. I am proud of myself because I know I did a good job of lubing up the dildo. I have had practice that she is unaware. I also have practice of taking it where she is about to put it.

She moves to my butt hole. I feel her place some lube around and inside my hole; she cares about me. And she pushes into me. A strap on isn’t as good as the real thing. They flex a little too much. But it does get the job done. She is plowing me good for a person with limited time in pegging her husband. I confess she has done it before to me, once during bondage play and once during regular sex. She is using her whole body. Thrusting hard, rocking on her toes, pushing off them. She goes deep and makes long full strokes. She is even changing up her speed, sometimes going slow and deliberate, other times fast and hard. Occasionally she pulls all the way out, rubs my butt, then smacks it with her hand, I guess to remind me about my recent spanking. Then she plows me some more.

Eventually she finishes and pulls out. Finishes the fucking that is. She has been coached by the boys. She is now moving around the bench to my face. “Open. I want my dick cleaned.” I am used to this too. I don’t like it, but I have been subject to it many times when the boys were abusing me. But this is different. When out west, I would be internally cleansed at least once if not twice a day. That was not done today. I was woken and we got right to playing. No bathroom stops for anything. Instead, I had my ass plugged and vibrated for hours and hours. This prick about to be pushed into my mouth must be soiled. “I said open and clean me,” she demands as she slaps my cheek with the dick. So, I open. I wanted to be the sub; this is part of it.

I am right. The dildo is well coated, especially the tip. I take it in. I can’t object, it’s me who wanted to play. If I balk, it will wreck the scene.  I clean it off for real, not just going through the motions. She stands still so I must do all the work moving my mouth up and down the shaft. It takes both my lips and tongue to get it done and that takes some time, certainly longer than I want. It feels clean, it’s my mouth that now feels dirty. She backs away from me. And I see her taking it off. Something tells me she is a little put off from what I just did. You could say she made me, but I do have safe words. I know this wasn’t her idea, this was suggested to her, strongly encouraged, I’m sure. Probably under the story that I want this. A guy thing. Not the truth. I hope she doesn’t think less now of her once perfect husband.

What has been left in my mouth surprisingly isn’t that bad. It’s more psychological than anything. It doesn’t taste awful. Not something you’d want to eat every night, but some of the cum and piss I’ve been forced to take in at times has been worse. And I have had to taste myself before, just not in the quantity that was loaded onto the dildo today. I know the slight bitterness it has. New to me is that I notice that there is a bit of texture in the little clumps I licked off. As they dissolve in my saliva there are a couple pieces of grit left behind on my tongue. I find myself subconsciously licking my lips, drawing into my mouth what was left on them. And I’m not puking or gagging. I don’t feel sick to my stomach. I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy. It’s just ‘me’ in my mouth. Better certainly better to swallow than someone else’s ‘me’. The bride comes over with a bottle of water and tells me to drink.

“Do you need to rinse?” she asks.

“No Ma’am, I’m fine, really, the drink of water will be enough.”

 “OK, you still want more? More play, I mean. We are done with you sucking my strap on.”

“Yes Ma’am, please don’t stop playing with me unless you don’t want to continue.”

“Oh, I’m still good and some of the fun stuff for me is still coming.”  I’m not sure what that means but I’m pleased. I’m not ready to stop, this is my ongoing fantasy coming true.