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the_mistress

The Mistress

Halloween. Midnight. A storm lashes the outside world, hurling bullets of rain against the windows.
Two rose candles flutter outside the opening to her kingdom. Her entrance black, her reputation red. I step inside her bedroom, naked as demanded. Moroccan incense washes over me, casting its spell over my defenceless body.
The full moon pours through half-open curtains onto my mistress. She sits on the edge of her four-posted bed, legs crossed. Her black bra, skinny panties and killer heels glint in the ethereal light. Four red silk scarves tied to the bedposts trail in a breeze from an open window. ‘Come here,’ she says.
I obey.
‘Kneel.’
I kneel at her heels. An erection of past experience grows.
‘Remember, I am in control.’ She cups my balls and squeezes them so I don’t forget. ‘These stay full until I say, understand?’
‘Yes, mistress.’
She leans over me and her long brunette hair tumbles over her polished half-dome shoulders. She kisses me once on the mouth, longing, intense. She caresses my balls. ‘These may see some action tonight IF you are a good boy.’ She releases me and leans back. ‘Pleasure me.’ I kiss her heels, the smooth plastic cold to my lips. I begin to stiffen. Memories of previous dominations invade my mind, nights when she used me for her selfish delight, when she spent my body into hers. She lets me kiss her heels in silence. Rain tapdances the window. She reaches down and tugs my cock, reinforcing the association between my erection and kissing her heels. Increasing her domination, draining my deferences against her feminine magic. I plant kisses up her calves to her knees. She arcs her slender legs. She parts them further to reveal her black lace panties. I devour her thighs, her skin soft, inviting, welcoming me to her power, feeding my addiction, compelling me to be hers.
She strokes my hair. ‘Good boy.’
I nuzzle her panties. She moans. My cock quivers under her power. I lick the edges of her panties, brimming her feral desire. I gobble the flesh of her tummy, creamy with pre-orgasmic expectation. She opens her legs wider and I slide my tongue under her panties, scrabbling at her pubes.
Another brooding moan escapes her body. She glides her fingers through my hair.
My tongue outlines her panties, sneaking inside with a wisp of desire. I slip my palms under her thighs. I grab the outside of her thighs and pull them together so they tighten around my face, keeping me locked in place for her exclusive pleasure.
She breathes deep and long, her lustful expectation permeating her rich lungs.
I pucker my lips against the entrance to her panties, wishing they weren’t there.
‘Enough,’ she says. ‘Stand.’
I release my grip on her thighs and stand.
‘Hands behind your back.’
I obey.
She stares at me, not blinking, not breaking eye contact. She cups my balls, tight in her palm, controlling. My cock bobs up and down in front of her. She slides forward on the bed, licks the end. She sucks just my head, the heat of her mouth oozing down my shaft. She twirls her tongue over me while squeezing my balls. I am hers. Powerless. She sucks faster, to and fro, teasing me with her corkscrew tongue. I want to explode in her mouth. I NEED to explode in her mouth. She fondles my buttocks. Her fingers slide between my legs and she rubs behind my balls, the base of my cock. I feel the impending orgasm grow: the exquisite tickle in my balls, the hearty throb flooding my stiffness. I will explode.
She stops. ‘No, not yet.’ She stands. She kisses me again and again while tugging my cock, slow and rhythmic, teasing me, keeping me at the brink of orgasm. Using me. Control Manipulating my cock and balls for her delight. I am hers.
She whispers into my ear: ‘You had better not disappoint me tonight . . .’
She kisses my cheek, my lips, wearing no perfume other than the natural woman scent of a showered body.
She gazes into my eyes and tugs me harder to remind me who has the power.
She licks my lips. Her tongue darts into my mouth. She knows this makes me fantasize about kissing her wet pussy. She tugs me faster, edging me closer to orgasm. She tongues my mouth. Keeps tugging. My knees begin to buckle with the thought of coming after a month of denial. She stops. ‘You have to ask me permission to come, remember?’
She turns and pads onto the bed. She kneels on all fours and sticks her buttocks into the air. ‘Pleasure me.’
I kneel behind and her buttocks magnetize my face to them. I mouth their pristine feminine curves.
‘Kiss my panties.’
I kiss her panties, now soaked with her delight.
‘Does that make you hard?’
‘Yes, mistress.’
She reaches back and grabs my cock. ‘Good boy.’ She gives me a few quick tugs to remind me I am powerless against her sex. ‘If you disobey me tonight I will never let you come. Remove my panties.’
I curl my fingers inside her panties and ease them down her hips to her knees. The moonlight bleaches her buttocks ghost-white. Her oval of darkness entices me in. My cock pulses.
She flicks her panties to the floor. Her legs part so I can see the power of her wetness, the source of my drug. ‘You are not allowed to kiss me there. You kiss me there only when I say, understand?’
‘Yes, mistress.’
She drives her pussy into my face to tease me, knowing if I kiss her without her consent I will pleasure her each night for a month without coming.
I want to dive into her inviting wetness, be controlled by her womanly aroma. I kiss her cheeks, bordering her pussy with my mouth. ‘Smell me.’
My cock pulsates. I breathe her scent in deeper, wanting the orgasm to knock me unconscious.
She tugs me, knowing her perfume strengthens her conditioning of my vice. She controls me so I stiffen when she commands, so I remain obedient to her feminine demands. ‘Do you want to kiss me there?’
‘Yes.’
‘BEG me.’
‘I beg you, mistress. I need to kiss you there. PLEASE.’
‘You may pleasure me.’
I delve between her cheeks; into her waterfall darkness. Her dripping heat bathes my face, granting my wish. Strawberry kisses. My cock jitters; I am home. Her odour washes over me, addicting my senses to her feminine scent.
My mistress groans. She grabs my head and skewers my face deeper into her drizzled lips. I bombard her with kisses, assaulting her lips with mine again, again. I find her clit, inviting, swollen from her gluttonous pleasure. She tugs my cock, conditioning my desire so I derive joy only from her inner core. I kiss her, faster. Her moans build to a crescendo. She shouts, gasps. Her clits swells on my tongue. Her cheeks shudder either side of my crushed face. I lick quicker; she squeals orgasmic delight. Her uncontrollable hips rock as an earthquake of bliss shreds her mortal body. Her shrieks ebb. She releases me.
I sit back, await her command.
‘Good boy.’ She reaches around, grasps my balls. ‘But these empty only when I say.’ She sweeps her fingertips over them, caressing, checking they remain full for her. She fondles the tip of my cock and eases it into her. Her internal fervor surrounds me, swamping my hardness.
I push: slow; rhythmic. Her moist passion lines my shaft. I want to plunge deep inside until I explode. I grab her hips and thrust quicker, my balls banging against her ripe cheeks. I want her to take me, to fuck the life from me until I am drunk from her desire.
She groans. ‘Harder.’
Sweat layers my body. My breaths quicken, my heart struggling to cope with her exquisite demands. Her wetness teases me, corroding my will, compelling my cock to harden inside her. I cannot stop her. Woman versus man. Woman dominating man using her sex. She is fucking me.
Controlling me. Her pussy tormenting my fat cock into orgasmic submission for her own selfish demands. I never want her to stop. My orgasm builds. I simper with each steel thrust, her slick womanhood edging me to orgasm, commanding me to firework inside her. My balls constrict, ready for the release.
She grabs my sack, feels its tightness. She snatches at the base of my cock, yanks me out. ‘No. You come when I decide.’ She turns round on the bed to face me, her mighty thighs creating a pyramid of pleasure rising to her dripping, fucked, pussy. Her breast bulge out of her bra, orbs of delight ready for deployment.
We kiss. Her forehead streams with fresh thunderous sweat.
I want to please her. I need her to use me, to take me, to bleed me until I am dead. Her tongue threads into mine; I want her hot lips grinding my face, coming on me while she ignores my agonizing stiffness.
‘Lie on your back,’ she says.
I stretch out on the four-poster, my arms above my head. My cock vibrates in the moonlight, denied its liberation.
She flicks off her heels. She undoes her bra. Her mighty breasts bounce out, another teasing weapon to use against me. She leans across to each red silk scarf and binds my wrists and ankles with them.
‘Can I—’
‘Oh, naughty boy. You talk only when I tell you to, remember? I must keep your mouth quiet.’
She slots her knees either side of my hips and edges forward over my body: the scrape of pliant flesh upon flesh, lust flowing into me. Her thighs teeter over my chest. I try to lick her but she leans back and wags her finger at me. She stares into my eyes, powerful, beautiful. She fondles her breast, rubbing, squeezing, teasing me with what I cannot taste. She circles a nipple with a fingertip. She shadows her finger down to her belly, swollen with desire. Her finger slides through her pubes into her pussy. She rams herself again, again, tossing back her head, moaning. She pulls her finger out, soaking with her essence. She smears my lips with it. My cock spasms. She traces my lips, carving lust into my face. She leans down, her face above mine. She stares into my eyes and guides her finger into my mouth. I suck it, wanting more, craving her heat. I am hers. She sees me trapped in her spell; she smiles. She withdraws her finger and clutches my face with both hands so I can’t move.
She lowers her pussy onto my face. ‘There. You can’t talk now. Pleasure me.’
Her lips feel rich and full. Wet with life. She grinds herself into my face, smearing me with her spirit. I feel her hands behind my head, pulling my face deeper into her. I kiss her lips, lick her. She squirms, moans. ‘Good boy . . .’ She gyrates, spiking me with my addiction. I lick a figure of eight into her. She comes over me, her thighs shaking either side of my head. She prises herself off, does a 180 and squats on my face. ‘Another. NOW.’
I kiss her. I want to enter her, to be with her. For her to use me, tease me, control me.
Her hot breathe carpets my thighs. She licks my balls. She sticks moist kisses up my shaft to my head. She licks around it and I raise my hips to thrust into her mouth. She removes her mouth from me; she will decide when. She tugs my cock, bringing me closer to orgasm. I want to burst. Her hot mouth envelops my cock, twisting round my head, taunting me to spurt in her mouth. She sucks, drawing me into her. I lick her faster. She groans, her mouth full, hectic with adventure. My balls constrict; the twinge. My cock thumps with the impending orgasm. She stops sucking. ‘You come only when I say. More pleasure.’
My cocks jolts without her mouth, lost from pleasure. I lick her faster, suffocating with desire beneath her. My lips melt into hers, my face saturated with her controlling perfume. I nuzzle her; her body convulses with another orgasm.
She eases off me. She spins round and lies next to me in the moonlit. She stares into my eyes. ‘I don’t know whether I want you to come tonight.’ She strokes my shaft with two fingers. She kisses me, her tongue penetrating my mouth. ‘Is this nice?’
‘God, yes.’
She stares at me. ‘Want to come now?’
‘Please let me come.’
‘This is so nice, isn’t it?’ She yanks a few hard strokes, followed by ones soft and slow. ‘What would you do to come right now?’
‘Anything . . .’
‘Do you love me controlling you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Shall I let you come tonight?’
‘Please, yes.’
‘You are at my command, here only for MY pleasure.’ She jerks me faster. ‘Shall I make you come now?’
‘Yesssss.’
‘No. I don’t want that. I want you to come in me. Do you want to come in me?’ She tugs me fast, rhythmic, to the point of no return, conditioning my pleasure to her control of my cock.
‘Yes . . . in you.’
‘Good boy.’
She stops. She undoes my ankles. She unties my wrists while allowing her breast to dip into my mouth. I suck on them. She sits back. I sit up. She lowers herself onto my cock. She fucks me. Slow. Deep. I lean forward to kiss her breasts but she slides back, teasing me. She smiles. She grabs my face and smothers me with her cleavage. She rides me. I kiss her breasts, hard, erect. I lick, suck, scrabbling to come inside her. I grab her waist and bury my lips into her breasts. Lust ripples through me. I kiss her neck, finding her mouth, her wanton lips. I need her to fuck me, to drain me inside her. She grabs my shoulders, returns the kisses. Her tongue enters me. She arches her back and comes again with a scream. A matrix of sweat frames her face. She stops rocking and rises off my trembling cock. She rolls onto her back. ‘Kiss my tummy.’
I lean over her. I kiss her tummy.
‘Yes, just there. Nowhere else.’
I kiss her tummy, her container of life.
She scoops my balls in her hand. She could squeeze them to reinforce her power. Instead she fondles my buttocks, gives them a quick slap. Her delicious odour pulls my lips to hers.
She squeezes my balls. ‘You’re not allowed to kiss me there until I say. Tummy, nowhere else.’
My mouth shunts across to her tummy, her acreage of skin. I kiss her hips and the flesh over her bone bows to my attention.
She slides two fingers up my shaft. She grabs my rigid head and gently tugs it. I am delirious. She tugs me slowly; not enough to come. But enough to WANT to come, to crave the earned release.
I lick her tummy, the close border of her pubes tormenting me.
‘Pleasure me.’ She grabs my hair and pushes me into her pussy. ‘Another.’
I snuggle between her legs.
She strokes my cock, bringing me to close orgasm but never letting me release.
Her wetness drenches my face. I might shatter with bliss.
She tugs me enough to keep me simmering but not boiling over. Her control is absolute. I lick her fast and she comes again. She says nothing for a few seconds. The storm outside lashes the windows, trying to penetrate. ‘Fuck me.’
She allows me to get on top of her. She grabs my cock, guides me in. She feels oily with echoes of her multiple orgasms. I thrust slowly. She bends her knees. She raises her muscular legs and slots her ankles over my shoulders. She pulls her thighs back to deepen the penetration, to maximise her pleasure.
‘I said, FUCK me.’
I force myself in faster, deeper. I lean down, kissing her neck with droplets of pleasure. I lick her ear lobes. Cuddle her wobbling breasts with my lips.
She grabs my buttocks and pulls me into her, driving my head in deeper.
My cock is a lead pipe
‘Yeah . . . Faster. Fuck me.’
I bury my stone stiffness inside, sweat flicking from my face. Her heat corrupts my masculine defences, drowning my rational thoughts. Our mortal bodies meld into one.
‘Come in me . . . NOW.’
Rain bombards the window like hammers against metal. A cacophony of elements.
I pound her; my balls tighten. I gulp lungs of moist air, fighting the fear of pleasure. Her pussy teases my cock: taunting it to explode; asserting its feminine power. I’m helpless within her. The tickle of orgasm wraps my body.
I explode.
My cock pumps spurt after spurt. My eyes lock tight with pleasure. I continue thrusting, desperate to please her animal needs.
There is no more.
She has used me for what she wanted. She controlled my orgasm; controlled me. My cock is hers; I am hers. Always.
‘Good boy. Maybe next time you won’t have to wait a month to come.’
I lie still on her for a moment, my spent body quivering with concentrated delight. Her heart vibrates me. My lips brush her shoulder. My face burns with the acid of orgasmic sweat. I withdraw; my cock twitches in the still midnight air. My pubes tinged with her demands. The storm has passed.
I drop to her side. I wrap an arm around her scorching waist. I kiss her burning cheek. ‘Thank you, mistress.’
She squeezes my hand. ‘Goodnight, husband.’

the_mistress.txt · Last modified: 2015/03/05 05:50 (external edit)