Leaving on a Jet Plane

Time to go back home to my responsibilities. I have had another beautiful and perfect weekend with Daddy and Master.  I call him both now for he has become two.  More than that really.  He is my everything.  My husband-to-be, my muse though he calls me his, my protective Daddy and my stern Master.  

I have not admitted this and granted I’m realizing this as I write it but I need challenge, I need struggle, I can become distracted and bored with less.  My mind is ever active, ever working and ever analyzing.  Daddy and I are more alike in this than I knew. 

He fits me so well.  He told me tonight that I fit him like a glove.  He’s so right. Our bodies fit together but moreso than that, our minds fit together.  He challenges me.  He is relentless in exploring our chemistry.  He finds his way inside my mind, centering my passion, delving to the depths of all that is me.  He worked his way in, he broke the fortress I had become.  With his kind heart, his reprobate swagger, and his force of will all governed by his engineer’s mind he took me and made me his. 

How do I go home tomorrow?  How do I part myself from him when I am so cleaved to him that I feel half a person?  All I want is to shut the world out and live in a dream of service to this man. I want to allow him to debase me, lay me bare, then raise me up from the ashes he created to build me again in the image he sees. 

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Homework

I received this command tonight. 

I am probably heading to bed soon.  your directions. Strip. 

Kneel and insert the plug. While kneeling beside the bed think of my voice in your ears…  

When you think you have served enough climb onto the bed and caress your breasts. Pull on my nipples and feel my touch. My need.   

Then bring yourself just short of orgasm. Short of orgasm Slut. You will do this thrice. After which you will remove the plug.

YOU ARE NOT TO COME. You are my plaything. My instrument. This is my concerto. Do this for me. Do it well my love and I shall reward you.

Desecration

I knelt for him last night.  Naked in my room after the house was quiet and the world had slowed.  My thoughts filled with his presence, my breathing shallow as the pain settled into my knees.

The pain has become familiar once more.  This is my joy, my honor to bear. I sat with my ass on my heels, my arms stretched upon the bed.  I prayed as a little girl, hoping as he slept that he felt my heat and my aching desire for him over the miles and through the darkness of dreams. 

Exposed and in need, I dared not touch myself.  I have been feeling guilty touching myself of late.  It has become a perfunctory physical maintenance.  Five or ten minutes before I fall asleep or as I rise to greet the day. Is has not connected me to him.  It has not honored him or served his need.  

Today, we talked in text of our need for each other.  Master has given me a command. Tonight I am to insert a frozen wand into my pussy and then use a vibrator to come for him.  I will endure the cold pain and come for him tonight.  

I feel embraced by him now.  I feel the grip of his hand on my neck.  I will serve his dark desire as he wishes for I am his slave and no more. 

Daddy’s Not Here

We were fucking.  More accurately, he was fucking me.  We had played, I had come for him, now he was having his.  His cock stretched me wide with each thrust.  The first thrust stung.  Our first night back together we had slipped and I had torn a little.  I could feel it still. 

I knew the pain would disappear if I got past the stingy beginning.  Once he was in and my pussy swelled, I would only feel the pleasure. Liking pain, at least in the sexual arena, is helpful in some situations. 

He sped up and fucked me hard and fast.  We had been at it a while.  He wasn’t going over the edge. This was going to take something more.

“Slut, you are going to make me come. This is your job, figure it out.”  One strokes, two strokes, I had nothing.  I know me, I am a horrible actress.  If something is not my idea, not truly felt from my tiptoes on up through my sex with real passion or in subspace then it rings horribly false.  I knew he’d see right through me. 

As he was fucking me, I had desperately wanted to rub my clit. I hadn’t. I decided that was a real desire, an authentic action.  Maybe something good would come of it. 

I snaked my hand down between us and rubbed my clit.  It felt so good I rubbed it harder.  “Nice, Slut. Keep going.”  He was watching me now.  I felt his heat focusing, I felt my body quicken. I was getting hotter and needy.  Yesssss

Now I could connect with the dirty little slut inside me. She’s always there waiting.  Usually Daddy brings her out but sometimes I can too.

I rocked my hips as he fucked me. I began to lose my grip on reality and only felt him.  “I love your cock in me Daddy.  I need you fucking me. Please keep fucking me.”

Out of nowhere his hand came up and slapped my tits hard.  I whimpered piteously.  The harsh sting expanded out from my nipples.  “No Daddy, please no!” I cried.

He looked down at me all hardness and sin. “Do NOT tell me NO.  Daddy is not here anymore.”

My protective Daddy was gone, sadistic Master had arrived.  He would not put up with any bullshit or back talk. “Yes D-d-daddy…Sir. Yes Sir.” I stammered.  In my state of arousal I had a hard enough time controlling my words but Sir and Master are so rarely used they feel foreign.

He gripped my neck and fucked me with force and heat and intensity.  When he loosened his grip on my neck I gagged my breath back into my throat.  But some evil thought was bouncing around in my oxygen deprived mind. Tell him no.

His hand slapped my tits again. “What slave?” Fuck, he could see every damned thought in my head.

The pain shook that thought away. “Ahhh, it hurts!” I said. By God it stung. 

“You poor thing. You’re mine. I’ll do what I want until you make me come.  What are you?”

“Your slut.” He fucked me continously.

“What else? Keep your hand moving.”  I kept rubbing my clit.

“Your slave.” 

“Yes, my slave but what else are you?”  He was looking for something but what?

It finally occured to me. “Your wife.” I whispered. 

“That’s right. My wife. That makes you mine…mine forever. And you will take what I give you.  You will take my come.”  At that he shuddered and filled me full of his seed. 

Worship

We watched a movie and had lunch.  The apartment had every amenity except a couch.  I was using Daddy’s big chair.  The legs had broken in the move so it was quite a bit lower to the floor but still comfy.  He was sitting in a camping chair next to me.  A very nice camping chair but still not ideal. The dining room table sans legs was propped on a box and made a serviceable coffee table. I told him I loved that set up so much I wanted to permanently cut the legs shorter.

I took our dishes to the kitchen and when I returned he pointed to the floor in front of him.  I sank gracefully to my knees.  I put my arms around his waist and held him for a moment.  

I looked up to him knowing I was here at his feet at his beckoning. “I’m going to answer a few work emails but first you’re going to suck my cock.” I smiled as he pulled down the front of his pants. 

“Do you want to suck my cock slut?” 

“Yes Daddy, I love sucking your cock.”  I do.  There is something so incredible about him allowing me to touch his most sacred part. I want every time I pleasure him to be as amazing as I can make it.  

Sure, I could be crass and say, all men want you to suck their cock.  What’s so amazing?  But why be like that?  It serves no one.  I love to give him pleasure.  I love to have a goal and a challenge.  My challenge is to make every flick of the tongue cause a reaction, every deep throat push deeper, every tongue caress hit the sweet spot.  Otherwise, why bother?  Giving my Dominant pleasure is an honor so I treat it as one.

I was languishing in the feel of him on my tongue.  I was tasting the cleanliness of him.  Aching for a drop of his seed to taste.  This wasn’t a blowjob with a direction.  We were both sated.  This was cock worship.  I could blissfully take my time. 

“Hm, you’re so clean.” I said with a little something in my voice.

“Too clean for my slut?  You want that man musk, do ya?”  He knows me.  I smiled with cock in my mouth and pulled out to answer.

“Well, yeah.  I love me some man musk.  Mm hmm.”  I licked him and chuckled.  I refocused on my task.  I love the girth of him, his cock pushing down my throat, stopping my breath, sucking and working my mouth on him.  

Damn, I was getting turned on. I felt the banter fall away and the heat overtake me.  I looked up to him with a mouthful of cock, eyes glazed with passion. I was struck by the intensity of his steely blue stare.  He was watching me and now he had me captive.  My heart jumped in my chest.  

He pulled me up and kissed me.  The fire between us blazed hot and fierce.  I became nothing more than a cinder in his embrace.  Our kissing drugged me.  I fell into a love-induced trance.  His lips trailed down my chin. He gripped my hair pulling my head back to expose my neck. His lips and teeth blazed a line down my throat. I whimpered and tried to pull away. “Stay.” He said, halting my escape. I trust him but the instinct for survival is undeniably animalistic. The fear rolls over me and I become prey.

His lips at my throat, locked together in mutual torment, he said,”Amazing. You are incredible. Three years later and you still have me rock hard and on fire for you.” His teeth dug into my throat.  
“Daddy…” I entreated. My pussy was throbbing and yet I was about to hyperventilate with fear.  “I want you.”  

“Come with me.” He stood and pulled me to my feet.  I thought we were headed to the bedroom but he led me to the other room.  He opened the door.  It was empty and cold except for the spanking bench  in the middle.

“You are mine. My prize. Present yourself.” He said.  I pulled off my pants and mounted the bench.  I knew what was coming.  All his toys remained packed in the other room.   One hand went to my neck the other my ass.  Gripping the hair at my nape, he spanked my ass twice…then four times in quick succession.  It was hard, it was fast.  The pace matched our pheromone fueled heartbeats.

His fingers pushed into my sex.  God, I wanted him.   The more he spanked me, the more I would do anything to have him.  Damn, I had missed him.   After warming my ass and my pussy he propelled me to the bedroom for a sound fucking. 

Altered States

He gave me time.  We were full from breakfast.  We sat and read email, blogs, etc.  I didn’t think anything of it.  Life as usual. 

He got up to do some laundry and then he was by my side in the living room. “Strip.” He said with no emotion, no explanation.  I unzipped my jeans vest and pulled off my shorts.  I stood naked before him. “Nice.  Follow me.”

Into the bedroom we went.  There were ropes everywhere.  He had been busy while he was doing the laundry.  “Get into the center of the bed,” he said as he adjusted the ropes at the headboard.  A large O ring was centered at the top of the large wooden headboard. I recognized it as a piece of equipment that is usually used under the mattress so that you can tie a person spread eagle to a bed withiut a frame.  This was going to be different. 

I laid on the bed in the center.  I was nude and felt the air from the  fan play across my skin.  He took one of my wrists and looped black rope around it several times tying a knot below my palm.  Then he tied the other wrist in similar fashion.  Each wrist was then secured to a ring an each side of the headboard.  Now I was unable to move my hands.  When I pulled on one the other would become secured closer to the wooden frame.  Oh, they are linked behind the bed.  I thought. The more I move the tighter I’ll be pulled on one side or the other. Devious.

Then he looped more black rope around my thighs.  Each thigh had many loops of rope, then each was tied off around the loops at my inner thigh.  The rope would secure me but not pull on my skin. Finally he pulled each leg up by ropes through the O ring in the center of the headboard right above my head.   As I looked up I saw a network of ropes strung from the upper corners of the bed and from my thighs.  I was trapped with my knees at my breasts, my hands bound and my sex wide open to him. 

He stood over me and surveyed his work. He smiled with approval.  “I can smell your sex.  I think you like this.” Then he took out the implements he had hidden by the bed.  A crop, a feather duster, and other items I couldn’t see.  Oh, I was in for it.  He mounted the bed and settled himself between my legs.  He blew air on my pussy.

I felt his nose first.  He ran his nose over my sex and up around the clit.  Then his tongue flicked over my labia, caressed my sensitive skin.  My senses were already heightened from being tied and now his tongue lit me up. Soft fluttering caresses that set me on fire. I was whimpering and pulling on my bonds to get to him. 

He pulled back, I hoped to mount me, but he picked up a crop instead.  He smacked the top of my pussy with it.  I jumped with every strike.  I tried to calm myself and bear the impacts but I was slipping away from my control. The binding ropes trapped me yet set my mind to flight. 

As the stinging sensations accelerated so did my need to beg for mercy. Before I reached my limit he knelt again to lick my pussy.  I was out of my mind.  First gentle flicks of the tongue, then hard sucking, then back to gentleness.  I was moaning loudly, unable to stop myself. 

He picked up the crop again.  My sex was wide open, my thighs tied back, my toes barely touching the bed.  The sting of contact shot through my pelvis jolting me. “Daddy!”

“What baby girl? Don’t you like it?” He said with a devilish smile.  He knew I liked it. The stings were harder and deeper now.  The first round was to bring the blood to the surface. This was the main event. It seemed that crop strikes followed by the more subtle torment of licking were the order of the day.  Each round pushed me closer to climax.

His finger hovered around the entrance to my pussy.  Caressing the pouty lips on each side.  I arched forward.  Finally!  Some kind of fucking! As sexual play ramps up, I have a one track mind.  Fuck me! Put it in, fill my hole, fuck me! My pelvis pounded forward propelling towards surcease.  His finger lazily dropped down to my asshole.  No! Not there! He rubbed little circles getting it wet then he pushed it in my ass.  

“Daddy! Fuucckk….” I’m not sure if that was a request or an expletive.  Either way, he wasn’t listening. His tongue bathed my pulsating clit.  His finger kept prodding my ass.  My throbbing, aching, hungry pussy sat forgotten on the edge of the dance floor waiting with her cocktail glass dripping sweat down her dress.

“Daddy please.” Pitiful. He ignored it.  “Daddy please fuck your slut.”  His eyes rose to look at his trussed up prize then went back to his work. “Please fuck your dirty whore.” He finally took notice. 

“You want to be fucked, do you?” His voice dripped with his Cheshire smile. “Hmm.” Noncommittal though he feigned, he finally he rose.  Yes, yes, yes! 

“Yes Daddy, please!” I was gone.  I looked up to him through atmospheres of dreamy landscapes.  

“You are mine.  I own you. Do you understand?” 

“Yes Daddy. Yours.”  I was laid bare to him.  Raw and exposed. 

“You are my dirty little whore.” He was poised at my clutching hole. He thrust forward cleaving me with his meaty cock.

“Yes Daddy, god yes!” The feeling was indescribable. Shivers of pleasure covered my body.  My mind sang.  I gripped the rope that bound my wrists to the bed. I wanted to wrap myself around him but was denied.  Thrust after thrust filled my needy pussy with the cock I so desperately wanted. 

“Take it!” His face above me, his hands on me.  His intensity broke free. 

“Fuck your little slut, your whore, fuck my cunt.  Please Daddy, fuck me, fuck me.” On and on I rutted in a hypnotized frenzy.

“Take it, take my seed!” He thrust to the hilt and pumped hot come deep inside me.  I felt it spurting out between us as his cries and grunts played across the room. 

Afterwards, he untied me in sections.  I cleaned us up while still in a stupor, ropes dangling from my wrists.  I came back down sometime after that. 

Elust #83

My post Power On is in Elust #83.  Check it out and read all the other amazing posts from other sex bloggers from around the net!

Elust 82 Header Holden and Camille
Photo courtesy of Holden and Camille

Welcome to Elust #83

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #84 Start with the rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

London Crows and London Kisses

I am Her. She is Me.

You Say You Want to Cook for Me

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Unusual Liaison

Community. Respect. Friendship. Fucking.

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Dirty Little Secrets

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

 

Poetry

You Know
O

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

My Bed
Secular Submission
My therapy
from “hard limit” to “want”
We Measure the Nostalgia
The Cure and The Cause

Events

Smut in the 6ix – Porn Conference & Gala

Erotic Fiction

Typing Errors
La Belle Dame
Sex and chocolate
The Imprisoned of HIM-HER-THEM
The Gift
audience
Becca’s Story
Rope and Fixtures
As salty as his cum…
Dominating the Doctor

Erotic Non-Fiction

Teen Sex in Woolly Tights with 60s Beat Music
Dear Sadist: Your Cruelty Is Your Love
A male dom, the straight girl and the bi girl
Owned, Leashed, & Beaten
Jan 2015 Owned & Collared by Mistress Claire
Rinse The Days Filth Away
Power On
Keeping tally

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Formative Kink Epic Fail: “Buck Rogers”

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

If it was easy anyone could do it
What’s a service submissive?
Prescient Words

Writing About Writing

What if aspirational meant something else?

 

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