I don't have a clever title... but...

[theredreaper]

These stories have a basis in reality with someone new I've been seeing... I used to write a ton of erotic fiction and she's inspired me to start doing it again. I've never been real active on the forums here (too busy with the webteases to post anything!), but I thought this community might appreciate these more than the places I normally post to.

All comments, critiques and random nude photos are welcome.



I’m a 32 year old divorced guy. I jerk off more now than I did when I first discovered it. I can’t help it. Okay, maybe I could, but I don’t really want to. I possess a hypersexual personality, and I’ve never had the good fortune of meeting a woman who I felt comfortable enough around to reveal just how much of a pervert I really am. Thus, it’s simply easier to let my mind run with whatever fantasy it’s currently occupied with and take care of business myself than it will ever be to find someone who would consider indulging me at anywhere near my level of depravity…

Or so I thought. A chance conversation with Emily changed all of that. Emily is my best friend’s girlfriend. My best friend is a womanizing prick with very few redeeming qualities, who has remained in his position as my friend more out of my own social ineptitude than any real connection between us. He’s fucked almost as many of my girlfriends as I have. Once, he even had the decency to wait until after we broke up. So, call me what you will for talking to my best friend’s girl behind his back. I have zero fucks to give.

Emily is a stunner. She’s on the short side, which I love. She’s curvy, which I love. She has shoulder length brown hair that smells like honey and feels like silk. Her eyes are a dazzling light green, and carry a glimmer that betrays her quirky, devious nature. You just know when you see that sparkle, somewhere deep inside her mind, she’s up to no good.

I’m not even certain how we wound up breaching the sex topic. But within the first few days, she had me spilling my guts about my collection of fetishes. We discussed every topic from the true nature of my submissive tendencies to cuckolding, pegging, forced feminization, my fascination with bukkake, bi-curious pursuits, watersports, tease and denial play, humiliation, exhibitionism, my experiences sleeping with my own first cousin, and so many more interests that I never thought I would reveal to another soul. Much to my surprise, she was intrigued by most of it, and she soon made a game out of giving me random little tasks to accomplish for her. She had me jerking off at work, touching myself in public bathrooms, and any number of other deviant activities, all while providing photographic proof of having fulfilled her requirements. For her part, she provided me with a steady stream of wonderful pictures of herself… the delightfully frustrating kind that showcase just about everything except what you find yourself really wanting to see. It was obvious early on that she knew exactly how to give me just enough to make me want to beg for more. I was putty in her hands from the word go.

Emily took to stopping by my house, randomly and unannounced. These little trysts never lasted more than a few minutes, and never resulted in more than a hug and a kiss. Yet, she knew exactly what I was doing with the pictures that she sent me, and we both knew it was only a matter of time before she caught me in the act. The thought of it filled me with both nervousness and anticipation. I wanted it to happen, but it also scared me shitless. We’d both seen plenty of revealing photographs of each other, but in person, the sum of our physical contact was a few hugs and kisses. Nevertheless, my hypersexual mind took control of the situation, and I found myself spending more and more of my free time at home polishing the old flute. Every time I’d hear a car door outside, my heart would skip a beat, but the sound of my front door opening sadly never followed it. Emily’s visits continued, but she seemed to always catch me in the middle of something else. This continued for weeks… and the more it eluded me, the more I wanted it, and the more time I spent back in my bedroom, touching myself and fantasizing about her.

One Saturday I awoke from a dream about Emily. Indeed, she was consuming my thoughts, both awake and asleep. Our conversations and the tasks that she set me on got increasingly depraved, and my fantasies of her followed suit. I showered, and sent her a text message to say good morning:

“Morning beautiful. Do I get to see you today?”
“Good morning! Probably not… got stuff to do :(“

With a towel around my waist, I walked from the bathroom to the bedroom to get dressed and prepare for the day, a bit saddened at the news that she’d be busy. If that was the case, I probably wouldn’t even be able to talk to her much, let alone see her at all. All the same, the lingering memories of the previous night’s dream got the best of me, and I dropped the towel to the floor and settled into my bed to relive it once more before going on about my day. A couple of minutes in, I heard a car door outside. I knew it wasn’t her, but I allowed my mind to run with the idea, thinking about what it would be like on that fateful day when it finally happened. I speculated about her reaction, the look on her face, how she would handle the situation. Based on everything I knew about her, I guessed that she would take charge of it somehow, but exactly what she might choose to do about it, I was uncertain. Suddenly, the silence was punctuated again by the sound of my front door opening… or was it? Had I imagined it? Emily just told me that she was busy. Footsteps coming down the hallway… ‘Oh, that devious girl,’ I thought. ‘But wait… what if it’s not her..?’ I had barely finished the thought when the bedroom door opened. There Emily stood, in an impossibly short pair of denim shorts, and a white spaghetti strap top. The top was tight around her ample breasts, but loose and flowing from there down. It swayed slightly as she shifted her weight from one foot to another and stood there in the doorway, a wry grin on her face and that devilish gleam in her eye. I wrestled with the instincts that wanted to be embarassed and reach to cover up.

“Whatcha doin?” she asked, playfully.

“Was just… thinking… of you,” I stammered, doing little to hide my nervousness. The shock had paralyzed me, all motion had ceased save for my heart pounding in my chest. Yet, there I was, completely exposed to her eyes, my hand wrapped around my cock. ‘What I was doing,’ was quite obvious. I felt somewhat sheepish, but there was no denying that I was extremely turned on.
Emily nonchalantly took a seat at the foot of the bed, and turned towards me. After taking her sweet time in giving me the elevator eyes, she stared me straight in the face.

“Well? Go on,” she stated, quite matter-of-factly.

I started timidly stroking my cock, studying her countenance as her eyes darted back and forth between studying my face and watching my hand. A wry grin crossed her face as she locked eyes with me again.

“Faster,” she whispered.

I complied with her instructions, increasing the speed of my stroking. I felt so wonderfully vulnerable, exposed before her in this way, at the mercy of her whims. My breathing quickened, and the muscles in my legs began to tighten involuntarily.

“Faster!” she demanded again, louder and more commanding this time. Her eyes still had not left mine.

I was putty in her hands. I did I was told, increasing the pace yet again. My breath came in short gasps, I knew I couldn’t maintain this much longer. She looked down again and back to my eyes. She giggled. I felt my balls contracting… I was on the edge. She saw it too.

“Stop!” she commanded. I complied, but I’m certain the frustration and disappointment must have been showing on my face. She giggled again, “Awww… poor baby.” She sat still, eyes surveying my body as I began to catch my breath. She looked down to my cock again, grinning with devilish delight at the sight of it beginning to soften. She changed positions, crawling over me to the other side of the bed. She leaned back against the wall, legs spread seductively.

“Come over here. On your knees.” She beckoned for me to take up a position between her legs. Once she was satisfied with my position, she reached out and took my hand, placing it upon the button of her short little denim shorts. “Undo me.” My hand shook as I fumbled with the button, but I got it undone, and unzipped the fly. “Now, as you were.” She winked at me as my hand returned to my cock. I was unsure of what she had in mind, and a little uneasy. I loved this feeling, and she knew it.

“Come on, stroker boy, I don’t have all day!” she exclaimed with a chuckle. The view of her wonderful inner thighs spread before me and the authoritative manner in which she spoke to me were enough to get me instantly hard again. I got back to stroking, praying she wouldn’t stop me again. “Mmmm. That’s right. She made no effort to engage me in eye contact this time, her gaze fully transfixed on studying the motion of my hand against my erect cock. She slipped her own hand inside those little shorts, and though they obscured my view of her pussy, I could imagine what she was doing. She licked her lips as I could see her fingers circling, pressing against the denim that shielded her activity from my eyes.

Her gaze turned again to meet mine. There was an urgency in her eyes now as she breathlessly uttered, “Go faster for me.” Her eyes remained locked on mine as we both increased our pace. She looked down to watch my hand again and I was quite pleased to hear a soft moan pass her lips. “Faster… it’s time… for you… to cum for me,” she insisted between quickened breaths.

My arm was pumping furiously as I studied the movements of her hand inside her shorts, the rise and fall of her breasts in time with her breathing, and the way she seemed to be struggling now to keep her eyes open. With the index finger of her free hand, she pointed to spot high on her inner thigh, right near where her soft skin ended and the denim of her shorts started. “Right here, baby… right here.”

I quickly shifted position so that I could indulge her latest demand of me, and not a moment too soon. My cock erupted, thick strings of cum pouring out across her thigh. Again and again I shot, and I knew my balls had never been so drained as they were going to be this day. “Yes! Fuck yes!” she exclaimed as the first of it touched her flesh. Her back was arching now.

I doubled over, spent from the effort. This movement brought my face closer to her as I watched her still furiously rubbing her clit. She reached out and grabbed my by the back of the head, forcefully pulling my face down against her inner thigh where I had just deposited my seed. “Lick! Clean it up!” This particular command made me more than a bit uncomfortable. Could I really do something like this? Sensing my hesitation, she said nothing, but pulled harder on the back of my head. My senses were overwhelmed, the feel of my own hot sticky cum against my cheek and the forcefulness with which she pulled me into her, the sight of her fingers working on her clit just inches from my face, the absolutely enchanting aroma of her wetness, the stark absence of sound as she seemed to be holding her breath, poised on the edge of an orgasm, and yes, finally, the taste of myself as I resigned myself to my position as her willing servant and reached out with my tongue to clean the sticky mess from her thigh. The second my tongue touched her skin, her body absolutely erupted in climax, and she broke the silence. “Yes! Fuck! Oh my God, yes! Clean that shit up! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” The string of obscenities pouring from her mouth had a profound effect on me. I found myself quite turned on to hear her talk that way. The knowledge that she was pleased with me caused me to redouble my efforts, and I greedily lapped away at her thigh, chasing down every last drop.

Finally, I felt her body relax. She looked down at me as I continued to kiss, lick and suck. She unceremoniously placed her palm on my forehead and shoved me off. Then, rezipping and buttoning her shorts as she stood up, she winked at me and walked out without a word.

[theredreaper]

The following week...

The morning started as most Saturday mornings do for me. I rose from my bed and sauntered into the bathroom for a shower. I reveled in the hot steam and just relaxed for awhile, before sleepily completing my morning routine. Still not fully awake, my body was running on autopilot as I exited the shower. Out of habit, I reached for the towel that should have been hanging on the wall just beyond the shower curtain, but didn’t find it. I would have shrugged it off, thinking that I’d just absent-mindedly forgotten to replace it, if not for the fact that the bathroom door stood wide open. I blinked in disbelief, wondering if I’d been so asleep as to have left it open and not remembered. Mulling it over for a second, I tried to mentally retrace my steps. I was nearly certain that I had closed the bathroom door.

Naked and dripping wet, I peeked out the door to look up and down the hallway. I saw no one. “Hello?” I inquired. There was no response. I cautiously stepped out into the hall and made the corner to my bedroom door. As I stood there in the doorway, water still dripping off my naked frame and pooling around my feet on the hardwood floor, my eyes landed on Emily seated on the edge of my bed with a smirk on her face and that devilish twinkle in her eye.

“You’re making a mess.” She tossed a towel at me as my mind connected the dots. I made a mental note to start having my coffee before my showers.

She was dressed in a tank top with pink and white horizontal stripes and a short white pleated skirt. Her feet were bare, and I guessed that she must have kicked her shoes off to better sneak her way through the house. As I toweled off, she got to her feet. As she watched me dry myself, she ran her fingers slowly up the outsides of those delicious thighs, the hem of her skirt rising along with them. Before I had a chance to make anything out, her hands were moving downward again, her fingers hooked into the sides of a lacy black thong that she seductively slipped down her legs and dropped to the floor.

“Get on the bed,” she commanded.

I had no idea what she had in mind, but reminded myself that it didn’t really matter. I was becoming strangely comfortable with my descent into submission and would comply without question or complaint. I stretched out on the bed and considered my situation for a second. Here I was, for a second time, completely naked and at her mercy whilst she remained (mostly) clothed. Such a simple thing, but the power and control that it represented were not lost on me. I wanted to see her naked. I really wanted to see her naked, but I knew that if it came, it would be at her discretion, not mine. She expected complete obedience, and that made my role rather simple. Some part of me took some comfort in that. Yet, I was beginning to understand that there were often devious intentions behind that fire in her eyes, and I wondered if my nerve would break before her well of twisted fantasies ran dry.

Suddenly my train of thought was broken as I was treated to an upskirt view of Emily’s wonderful ass. She was climbing on top of me, facing towards my feet. Her knees pinned my shoulders down hard into the mattress. It was a bit uncomfortable; not painful really, but it would certainly prevent me from going anywhere should I be taken with the urge to do so. Without warning, the room disappeared from view as she lowered herself down onto my face. Her pussy was already dripping as it pressed against my lips. The smell and the taste excited me, even as it became clear that she was quite unconcerned with whether or not I was comfortable. She asserted her complete dominance over me by grinding herself down hard onto my face. It became very difficult to breathe, but I knew what she wanted, so I opened my mouth and began to explore her wet folds with my mouth and tongue. She leaned forward and moved her hips backward. The new position allowed me to reach her clit with my tongue, but it also pressed my nose up against her anus, and completely deprived me of my ability to breathe. Panic gripped me as I made this realization. I tried to turn my head; Emily responded by pushing herself down firmly onto me, holding me in place. I tried to roll my body over, but the weight she was placing on my shoulders made the struggles ineffective.

“Can you breathe?” she inquired.

I couldn’t breathe, and I certainly couldn’t speak. All I could do was forcefully shake my head from side to side. I couldn’t help but notice the tip of my nose tickling her rear entrance as I did so. She shuddered. “Uuungh… that was nice. Now eat me!” I had expected her to shift positions, to allow me to breathe! It was clear to me in that instant that I was just a plaything to her. A toy to be used. There was only one course of action for me to take. All I could hope for was to please her enough that she’d see fit to not suffocate me! To this end, I greedily licked and sucked at her clit, literally as if my life depended on it. I was soon rewarded with a soft moan as she was gripped with the pleasure I was providing for her. She raised herself up, just long enough for me to gasp for a breath before resuming her position and cutting off my air again.

I could do naught but return my attentions to her clit. Her juices covered my face and I could feel drips running down across my cheeks. Suddenly I became aware of a new sensation. Despite my obvious plight, my cock was hard as a rock, and I felt something touch it now. I was confused at first. Was that… lace? She paused again to allow me another breath and I snuck a glance downward as I gasped for air. Emily had collected her little black lacy panties from the floor before crawling on top of me, and now she had them wrapped around my cock, stroking me with them. Even in my current predicament, I did not fail to pick up on the irony. She had not up to this point ever touched my cock, and she still wasn’t!

I felt a squeeze suddenly as Emily’s ass and thighs tensed up all around me. I heard her cry out, “Oh fuck!” Her entire body shook and lurched above me as she lost control of herself. She pulled away again and I got to breathe once more. The motions of her hand had ceased, but this wouldn’t be the case for long. She recovered quickly and gracefully from her orgasm and sat down firmly on my face once more as she returned to stroking my cock. At no point did she shift enough weight from my shoulders to give me any chance to escape.

She sat up straighter now, sliding forward again. This freed my nose and I could now breathe somewhat normally, but it was clear she wasn’t through with me. She did a little wiggle and put her weight down on me, which forced me even deeper into her, and at the completion of this maneuver, my mouth was pressed firmly against her asshole. She challenged me now, reminding me of a previous conversation.

“You said you’d lick me anywhere I wanted, remember?”

I had said that very thing. I parted my lips, a bit hesitant, but not wanting to fall short of delivering on anything I had said to her. As my tongue reached out and touched her, the effect was profound.

“Ohhhh… yes.” I could sense the chill going up her spine as I felt her hand wrap tighter around my cock. She increased the pace of her stroking slightly. I opened my mouth fully and pressed my tongue against her. She shuddered again. I began to flick the tip of my tongue back and forth across her anus, teasing her. The more my efforts persisted, the more she sighed with pleasure. I pressed my tongue out, exploring, probing, even pressing against the entrance, and was treated to more of her soft moaning. I was a bit surprised at how the activity turned me on. Her responses to my licking and probing excited me, and I was thrilled to please her so. She was moist and relaxed now, and I could actually almost get my tongue inside of her!

I was lost in the excitement, the taboo of it all, and my body responded in kind. My hips bucked and my back arched as my cock erupted. Emily’s little black panties were covered in my cum. Unphased by this, she continued to pump and squeeze my member until the twitching finally abated and all my seed was spilt.

She rose from the bed, freeing me at last from my captivity. She held her panties up at arm’s length, studying the sticky mess they had become. With a slight shrug, she pulled them back on as if she were dressing for any normal day. And then, as before, she turned to me, gave me a wink and walked out without a word.

[elvisomar]

I hope there is more to come, because I really enjoyed this so far. Just the right mix of exposition, plot, and erotic description for my taste. I'd love to know what else Emily has in mind. Thank you for sharing, and keep it up, please!

[Green2814]

More please more

[theredreaper]

I hope there is more to come, because I really enjoyed this so far. Just the right mix of exposition, plot, and erotic description for my taste. I'd love to know what else Emily has in mind. Thank you for sharing, and keep it up, please!

More please more

Ask and you shall receive. There should be several more installments at least. "Emily" is rather insistent that I continue to record the saga. I do take some artistic liberties with the stories, as I feel it would be awfully boring for her to read if it was simply a direct accounting of events. But they all have some footing in reality. I'm hoping to get her to join these forums, so please continue to share your comments!

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 3

The following night, I was in my easy chair winding down for the evening when I got a text message from Emily:

“Need you to do something for me in the morning.”

“Anything for you. :) What’s up?” was my reply.

“You’ll need to get up early. Showered and ready by 7:00. I want to see you for awhile before work. Good night. ;)”

With an early morning ahead of me, I decided to turn in. I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to imagine what she might have in mind. The thing with Emily was, there really was no telling. Deciding it was fruitless to speculate, I drifted off.

The alarm rousted me at 6:30, about 45 minutes earlier than I was used to rising. I didn’t need to be in to the office until 8:00, but Emily had been very specific about wanting me ready for her by 7:00. My thoughts dwelled on her as I showered. I stepped out of the shower with about 10 minutes to get ready. Suddenly I wondered what she meant by “ready.” She hadn’t specified. Ready for work? Ready for… what, exactly? I honestly wasn’t sure if I should put clothes on! I decided to err on the side of not being presumptuous, and dressed for work. My calendar showed no meetings or appointments for the day, so I would dress casually. A few minutes later I was standing in my kitchen, having donned jeans and a black polo, and was putting on the coffee when Emily bounced through the front door.

“Ah, good. You’re ready.” She smiled at me. I said a silent thank you to no one in particular for having guessed correctly.

“Coffee?” I offered.

“Sure, bring me a cup and let’s chat.” She took a seat on the couch and patted the seat next to her. I poured a couple of cups of coffee and went to the living room to join her. As I got seated, she began speaking.

“So look. This whole D/s thing is really new to me, but I have to say, you’ve really got me intrigued. I have been enjoying this immensely. And I’ve been reading a lot. Studying up, if you can believe that.” She paused to sip her coffee before continuing. “So like I said, this is new to me, but based on what I’ve been reading, I think that I’ve been quite easy on you. So, I want to lay down some new rules.”

“Rules?” I questioned. “Like what?” I had read an awful lot of material online myself and I could only imagine the sorts of things that she had been ‘studying.’

“Well, I don’t know exactly what your expectations are. I’ve read a lot of stuff on the Internet, and I don’t really care for all this ‘Mistress’ stuff. The word mistress has dual meanings, and I’d feel like someone’s piece of ass on the side if you called me that. But I do like the concept, so I put some thought into it, and I landed on the Latin term, ‘Domina.’ There is no mistaking the meaning, and I just like the way it sounds. So when we’re together under these terms, you will refer to me as ‘Domina.’ Clear?”

“Okay.” I replied. I was surprised at how quickly she was taking to her new role in my life. In response, she just looked at me rather crossly. It took me a second to realize my mistake.

“I mean… Yes, Domina,” I corrected myself.

“That’s better.” She smiled at this before continuing. “And further, I feel like it’s time that you relinquish control of your orgasms.” She giggled a bit. “I suppose I should thank you for turning me onto that Milovana web site. They have a lot of great ideas there. So from now on, you will not cum until or unless I allow it. You can stroke all you want when I’m not around, and in fact, I encourage you to do just that, but you won’t be cumming without my permission. Any issues?”

I swallowed hard as I pondered this. My head was reeling. Just a couple of short weeks after our initial conversation, we were sitting in my living room discussing the terms of my surrender over coffee. I had often fantasized about entering into just this sort of relationship, but with the reality of it staring me in the face, I was struck by the gravity of just what I was getting myself into. But even as I considered it, I knew there was no way in hell I was going to disagree with her.

“No issues, Domina.”

“Good!” Her eyes positively lit up. Whatever was to come, I would gladly endure it to see more of that look. She sat her coffee down and reached to take mine from me and place it on the table. “Now take off your clothes,” she demanded.

I snuck a look at the clock. The conversation had only lasted about 5 minutes. Work was about a 10 minute drive away, which left 45 minutes for… whatever it was she had in mind. I stood and disrobed. I still felt a bit nervous undressing in front of her. She made no move to get up or remove any of her own clothing, but motioned for me to sit back down. As soon as I was seated, she reached over and took my cock in her hand. This was the first time that she touched me, not counting the episode with her panties 2 days past. My cock instantly rose to the occasion. She laid her head on my shoulder and slowly stroked me. Her touch was light, and her attitude very relaxed. She continued in this way for a few minutes… in complete silence. I was awash with sheer bliss. Suddenly, her head shifted from my shoulder and before I even realized what was happening, she had taken me into her mouth. Her technique was incredible. My eyes rolled back in my head as she continued, steadily increasing her pace. As the tips of her fingers brushed lightly over my balls I started to shudder. Seconds later, my legs were twitching. “Oh fuck,” I whispered in anticipation.

Before the words had fully escaped my lips, Emily’s head snapped back up.

“That’s all you get,” she said. She stood and began to wriggle out of the tight fitting jeans she was wearing. She wore nothing under them! She seated herself and leaned back into the corner of the couch. “I, however, am not going without.”

I dropped to my knees before her, expecting her to enlist my service. She shook her head at me. “Just watch,” she instructed.

I remained where I was, on my knees before her as she leaned back into the couch, legs akimbo. Despite the fact that her pussy had been all over my face just two days hence, I had not really gotten a good look at it like I was now. It was magnificent. She was shaved smooth, and just then she parted the labia with her slender fingers, revealing deep pink flesh already glistening with moisture. I found the sight of her simply breathtaking. Even my fantasies could not have put her together more perfectly! Her middle finger disappeared inside and she moved it slowly in and out of herself a few times. She removed it and it emerged covered in her wetness. She ran it slowly up the length of her slit before nestling into her folds near the top, coming to rest on her clit. I looked up to meet her eyes as her finger traced small circles over her sensitive little button. Her lips parted slightly as her breathing deepened, and she locked those dazzling green eyes onto mine with such intensity that I felt as though she were daring me to look away. Her free hand fell to brush against the pale, creamy flesh of her inner thigh. Her gaze left mine as her eyes closed and she laid her head back. I watched her quietly, as she seemed to be ignoring me now, focusing on the busy workings of her fingertip across her now swollen clit. The room was silent save for her soft moans and labored breathing. I could have watched her forever. Just then, her legs began to shudder. An urgent “Oh God!” escaped her lips and I saw her body tense. Her back arched and the shaking of her legs intensified as she climaxed. Her body would relax only to buck again and again and again as she was struck by the waves of her orgasm. For my part, I felt very privileged to witness the spectacle.

At last, she came to rest and her eyes met mine again. “Come back up here,” she commanded. As instructed, I returned to the couch where she immediately pounced on me. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she pushed me onto my back and promptly straddled me. She pulled her dripping pussy up and down the length of my shaft a couple times. Then she reached down and took me into her hand, rubbing the head of my cock up and down the entire length of her slit. She made a show of meticulously aligning my erect member up with her entrance, and held that position for a few seconds before abruptly standing. She was already pulling her jeans back on before my mind caught up with what happened.

“I want you back here at 12:00, sharp. You’re meeting me for lunch.” And then she turned, gave me a wink and walked out the door.

[theredreaper]

Chapter 4

I walked in my front door at 12:00 on the dot. Emily was already there waiting for me.

“Hey, there’s my favorite slave boy,” she greeted me with a smile. She leaned in to kiss me as I seated myself next to her. I cupped her cheek with one hand and we lost ourselves for several minutes in the passionate embrace. The tip of Emily’s tongue circled around my own, our lips pressed firmly against each other as she began tugging at my belt. Her fingers deftly unclasped it and soon thereafter my already erect cock was exposed to the air as she hastily jerked it from my pants. She wrapped her soft hand around it and giggled as I moaned with my lips still pressed against her own.

“Sensitive, are we?” she inquired.

“You left me wanting, Domina,” I answered.

“It pleased me to do so,” she replied. “Are you complaining?”

“No, Domina. I exist to serve.” I almost couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of my own mouth. The time with her moved so fast, I was still not quite certain that it wasn’t all a dream.

“Indeed, you do,” she responded. Every touch, every little wink, every exchange of words just brought me further under her power. She began to slowly stroke me. Her touch was exceptionally gentle. She was barely even touching me and it was driving me absolutely crazy. She looked at me with a mischievous grin as I half fell, half melted back into the couch. She leaned over me and took the head of my cock into her mouth just long enough to wet it. As she sat back up she focused her stroking solely on the head. Though she still employed an extremely light touch, the sensation was incredible, and I knew I couldn’t take it for long in my hyper-sensitive state! Indeed, it was only a couple of minutes before my body gave her the sign she was looking for. I grunted and sighed as my stomach tightened and my leg muscles seized. And again, she abruptly removed all stimulation! I felt as if I might break down into tears.

“Not today, slave boy!” She giggled again, obviously taking great enjoyment from my discomfort and the absolute power she held over me. She took my hand and kissed me again. After a moment, she broke off the kiss and simply stared at me. She absentmindedly traced the contours of my hand that she was holding with the index finger of her other hand as she blew me a kiss and whispered, “I love you.” I was lost in her gaze as I began to regain my breath, and soon, even my erection was lost to the serenity of the moment. I barely had time to be conscious of this fact before Emily was back in action. She let go of my hand and bent over my lap again. Her lips touched me as she gave the tip of my cock a little kiss. I was instantly hard again. Her tongue touched the glans and she made several slow little circles with it before withdrawing again. She lingered mere millimeters away from me, and I could feel the warmth of her breath. In my super aroused state, it seemed my cock was sensitive to things that may have gone unnoticed under normal conditions. Another gentle kiss… and another and another. Every touch of her lips was lighter than the one before it. She withdrew again and blew on me in the manner that someone might attempt to cool a hot bowl of soup. My cock twitched in response. She giggled, which produced short pulses of breath that caused my cock to twitch yet again. I felt the tip of her tongue touch me again, and again she used it on the sweet spot on the underside of the head, but this time it was short light touches. Over and over she repeated this, just barely touching me with only the very tip of her tongue, sometimes pausing for a bit to let me feel her breath on me again. At one point she parted her lips and moved as if to take me into her mouth, but instead just hovered there for a second with her open mouth poised around the head of my cock, making no contact whatsoever. Pulling away, she gently kissed it once more and went back to torturing me with the tip of her tongue. She reached down with her hand and brushed the back of one finger lightly back and forth across my balls. I almost couldn’t believe it when I began once again to feel an orgasm building inside me. It was building slowly, but surely. The pace of Emily’s touch was excruciatingly slow, her touch so light that I might not have believed it was happening if not for being able to see her, yet somehow, she was pushing me closer and closer to the edge. That familiar feeling was back, and more intense than ever. Emily knew it, too. She backed off and straightened up. Her lips met mine and she put a hand on the back of my head, pulling me into her kiss. My eyes closed as I was enveloped in her embrace, and then I felt it. She wrapped her hand around my cock once more, touch as gentle as ever. She gave one long slow stroke from the tip to the base, and even with her mouth pressed against my own I moaned aloud. Much to the chagrin of my poor, throbbing cock, the motion ended and she removed her hand a hair’s breadth from pushing me over the edge.

“Time for you to go back to work. Sorry, babe.” She smirked at me. I could not help but sigh as I rose to my feet and did my pants back up, with no small amount of difficulty. She smacked me on the ass, playfully. “7:00 tomorrow morning. Be showered and ready.” She winked at me as I turned to head back to work.

[Hagel]

really amazing, but i like it, and i wish there come more?

[theredreaper]

So... the literary saga of Emily has yet to be continued... the good news is that I have been too busy with the real life Emily to really get any more writing done! It's not really part of the tale, but here's a short piece I turned out this afternoon. Here's my fantasy of a moment inside Emily's mind.


She demands nothing short of the complete and utter submission and obedience of her subject. She owns him, and he exists for one purpose… to produce. His chief exports are pleasure and happiness; her pleasure and happiness. Like the overseers of yesteryear, she controls him, keeps him producing. She’ll work him to the point of exhaustion and beyond if she feels like it. But it’s not the rod or the lash she holds over him. Denial is her whip, chastity her binding chains. To some, her treatment of him might appear to be harsh, but she’s no sadist. The cruel torment she imposes on him is to his benefit. The more she keeps the satisfaction of release from him, the more dedicated to her service he becomes. And so, she mercilessly and repeatedly brings him to the very edge of orgasm without allowing him to go over.

He cums only when it pleases her, or when she needs him to be able to focus on something besides his unconditional dedication to her for awhile. Occasionally she’ll give him just half a graze more than it takes to put him over that edge before removing all stimulation and cruelly ruining his release, just to remind him who is in control. If he pouts when he’s ruined or denied, she prolongs his torment, to remind him that he exists to serve and that he should take his pleasure from her satisfaction, and not his own. She reminds him that his orgasms are not strictly necessary to his role in life. Yet she knows they are not without their place, at times. She’s known to enjoy the sight of his cum across her perfect tits, or deposited on her feet as tribute to his absolute worship of her and all she represents in his life. Still, she thinks with a cruel smile, even at these times she doesn’t have to give him a full release. Just because she wants his seed doesn’t mean he needs to enjoy it…

In fact, why on earth would she allow him his own pleasure when he serves her so much better in chastity? The more she denies him, the more attentive he is to her needs! The inferior mind of a male is so easily controlled. She has only to hint at the possibility that she might let him cum, and she can get anything she wants from him, a fact she is all too willing to exploit. After all, his purpose is please her. He said that he wanted her to be happy. He practically begged her for this. And as long as she keeps him denied, his mind and body respond to her in precisely the way she wants them to. His cock gets hard at a whisper, his hands are eager to touch her. He’ll massage her amazing body for hours… she doesn’t even have to wash her own hair anymore, and why should she when she has a perfectly good willing servant to attend to such needs for her?

No, the teasing, the torment, the denial is good for her. It makes him the sort of man she needs. And what’s good for her is good for him. She’s fickle, which keeps him on his toes. Her rules aren’t always consistent, her needs and desires change from day to day. She makes it nearly impossible for him to get it right all the time, and she punishes him for the slightest transgression. Should he fail to deliver exactly what she wants, precisely when and how she wants it, she simply extends his sentence of chastity. Sometimes she extends it simply because it pleases her to remind him that she’s in control. And the sentence is never easy, as she takes plenty of opportunities to tease him, to bring him within a hair’s breadth of the orgasm he thinks he wants, just to make sure he remembers what it is she’s keeping from him.

The more she forces him to endure, the easier he is to train. The culmination of his conditioning is evident in the fact that she rewards him for good behavior by allowing him to touch her, to worship her body, to please her. Her orgasms become the source of his satisfaction, his own denial making him hungry for it. He’d bring her to climax a hundred times a day if she willed it, and thank her for the opportunity!

Yes, his training has been good for both of them, she knows, even as she wonders if she’s been too hard on him. Maybe it’s time to truly reward him again after these last several weeks. After all, for the thought of finally getting a real orgasm to continue to motivate him, she needs to give him just enough to keep him believing that it can happen. She’ll make him earn this one though. She’ll tell him tonight that if he can give her a hundred orgasms before his birthday in two months, she’ll let him have one of his own. That should fetch just the kind of behavior she wants from him…

[Cherome]

Awesome story, please keep on posting. Enjoyed much...Want more...

[theredreaper]

It's been a few months since I had anything to add... sorry about that. But here's a new chapter(ish). Enjoy!


I had no idea how long it had been since my last orgasm; Domina’s rules forbade me from keeping track, but it had certainly been many weeks. My thoughts and attention were to be always on her pleasure, her happiness.
“Lord, she’s even controlling my thoughts now,” I mused. The idea excited me. I craved her authority, to know that she and she alone held dominion over my mind and body. Even amidst the frustrations arising from the marathon period of denial, my only regret was that I had but one mind and body to give.

It was late evening and I lounged on the sofa waiting for Domina to emerge from her bath, hoping that she would permit me to serve her in some way or another this night. Perhaps she would entreat me to provide a long, slow, deep-reaching massage. She often demanded this treatment, and while applying lotion or oil to her perfect silky skin, I would rub her down until my hands cramped and my shoulders burned from the exertion. “Don’t you dare stop,” she would scold me if my efforts began to abate before she was ready. Some nights she just wanted to be rubbed down from head to toe until she drifted off to sleep, and only the coming of her slumber would release me from my duty. I would collapse, exhausted beside her, delighting in her satisfaction even as my frustrated cock throbbed against the side of her naked body. Other nights, I would serve her as she bathed, providing company and an extra pair of hands to do the scrubbing. My favorite part was washing her hair. I would take my time, enjoying the feel of it between my fingers and the smell of her conditioner. After this, she would have me brush her hair and I would often attend to this duty until her hair was well and fully dry and sometimes longer. Whatever service Domina expected of me at any given time, I always needed to remember to attend to her incidental needs as well, which means I made her drinks, fetched things for her, ran errands, did chores and basically ensured that she was relaxed, pampered and that her every whim was serviced.

Some nights I found myself fortunate enough to see to Domina’s more intimate needs. Always, I was expected to forego and forget my own desires in favor of indulging hers. My own pleasure was the tool she used to train me to serve her in the ways that pleased her the most. The promise of a fully satisfying release was always alluded to, hinted at, but more often than not, ultimately denied. Over time, I began to understand and accept that my orgasms served Domina absolutely no purpose, and as such, were entirely unnecessary. As it sank in, I realized that her moans of pleasure and the tension in her body as she shook uncontrollably in the throes of her own orgasms and the way she looked at me after were more rewarding than a few seconds of my own selfish indulgence. But that’s not to say I didn’t miss cumming. I missed it a great deal, and Domina took every opportunity to use this fact against me. I couldn’t have been more in love with her.

As this final thought passed through my head, Domina finally emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a silky robe hemmed at about mid thigh. Even after all the time I’d spent with her, I was still prone to gawking at her, and having her beautiful toned legs exposed in this way was doing nothing to alleviate the frustration she had been carefully building in me for months. She carried her hairbrush with her, and she handed it to me as she sat cross-legged on the floor between my legs. I did not need to be commanded, and began brushing her hair as she reached for the remote. The television didn’t interest me, however. My eyes were busily studying the way the hem of her robe had inched farther up as she seated herself, exposing more of the milk white flesh of her inner thighs. We sat mostly in silence, she watched a show as I brushed her hair until it was dry. Her episode ended and she turned to me.

“You serve me very well. But something’s been missing,” she stated.

I was horrified to think that I had somehow been negligent in my duties. Domina had some cruel and humiliating ways of punishing me if I displeased her. “I’m sorry Domina, what can I do?” The words came out nearly as if I was begging already, and that may not have been far from the truth. I was truly her willing servant, and needed nothing in my life more than to make her happy.

“Well, I’ve heard you call me a goddess, and I’ve heard you say that you worship me. But I don’t really feel that I’ve ever actually seen you worship me.” She smirked at me as she explained.

I suddenly realized that she was probably right. In my heart and mind I did feel that I worshipped her, but it was difficult to manifest those feelings in a physical way. I tried to think on my own of what I could do, but the only thing that came to me was just to serve her as dutifully as possible, and I was doing that already. “What do you have in mind? I’ll do anything,” I finally replied.

She laughed at me. “Of course you will do anything. Your purpose for existing is to be my little bitch, isn’t it?”
I started to nod my agreement, but caught myself. Domina’s rules demanded that I always acknowledge her verbally. “Yes, Domina.” I hung my head at her use of the word bitch. It didn’t offend me, but it did reinforce her point. She owned me, and she would dictate me however she saw fit. In truth, I was always thrilled by the way she spit the word “bitch” from her mouth when she addressed me as such. So I hung my head, not out of shame, but to concede my absolute submission.
“Get up and strip,” she commanded. As I hastily complied, she rose and took the spot I had just relinquished on the couch. “On your knees. And get a couple of pillows for my feet.” Again, I did as I was bid, and found myself kneeling before her her, completely nude, with her pretty feet propped up on two pillows right in front of me, and still having no idea what exactly she had in mind. I must have been wearing my ignorance on my face, because she gave me a wicked grin as she began to explain. “Your Domina demands a tribute.” She winked at me as she continued, “You may even call it a sacrifice. Start stroking yourself for me.”

She watched me intently as I wrapped my hand around my erection and started to stroke. She glanced back and forth, eyes darting between my hand and staring me straight in the eyes. Her fingers traced slowly up and down the front of her robe. She eased it back just slightly, exposing just the edge of one of her breasts. My breathing quickened in response and she giggled at me. “That’s right, keep going. Tell me how much you want to see what’s under my robe.”
“I really want to see it. You have such an amazing body, Domina, I just can’t get enough of looking at you,” I half stammered between ragged breaths.

“Hmm… I’m not convinced. I think if you really wanted to see, you would have asked me by now.” Her wicked grin returned.

“Please Domina… I do want to see. Will you take your robe off?” She was right, I was currently desperate for a look.

“No.” She continued to grin. “I just wanted to hear you ask.” She raised her left foot off the pillow and teased it slowly back and forth across my balls for a few seconds before raising it to my eye level. “Now kiss my toes.” I complied, kissing her offered toes as I continued to stroke myself, feeling the pressure slowly building in my balls. After a moment, she pulled her foot back from my lips and rested it again on the pillow before me. “Does it feel good? Do you want to cum?” she asked.

“Yes Domina… I want to cum so badly. Will you please let me?” I pleaded.

“Just keep stroking, bitch. You may ask me for permission when you get close.” She still wore her wicked grin, and still stared into my eyes so intensely it was as if she were trying to look through me. I knew it wouldn’t be long. It wasn’t.

“Oh please, I’m getting close, please let me cum?” I begged her again.

There was a short moment of silence while she gave the appearance of considering it before she spoke. “No,” she stated quite matter of factly. “I want you to get right there and then ruin it for me. I want to see your cum dribble uselessly out of your dick onto my feet. I want to watch you give up a real orgasm for me.”

I was truly desperate to cum at this point, but even through all my frustration, I was more desperate to confirm the power she held over me. I wanted to demonstrate my devotion to her, and she had provided a perfect opportunity for me to illustrate it, so after a few more firm strokes, I removed my hand. She looked down and watched as my cock twitched, once, twice, three times, and then began to dribble. There was no spurting, it was more like a stream leaking from the end of my cock. She smiled and lifted her feet, moving them around so the wasted cum covered her pretty little toes, running between each of them. In my mind, I imagine the sensation must have been nice for her, and that made me happy, even though I wanted to cry in frustration over finally achieving an orgasm after so much time, only to be forced to ruin it. It seemed to take forever for the dribbling to finally stop. As it did, she raised her feet up and offered them to me. “Mmmm, that was quite nice, actually. Now I want you to suck each one of my toes clean so we can go to bed and you can rub my back ‘til I fall asleep.”

God, I love this woman.