"Do You Want More Pain?"

"Do you want more pain?"   This was the question the Sadist (Master) asked the masochist (me).  Such a loaded question, asked at such an inopportune moment, seeing as I was on teetering on the edge of an orgasm.  What's a greedy pain-slut to do?  Delay the orgasm while He rains down another round of stinging blows on my already swollen and aching pussy, or fore-go the pain and slip into orgasmic bliss?

Perhaps I should begin at the beginning...see, it started like this:

He took me in the bedroom and told me to lay face-up on the bed, legs spread wide.  Once I was in position, He fastened my wrists and ankles to the bed, leaving me open and exposed.  Satisfied that I wasn't going anywhere, He left me lying there, and went to gather some "toys."  He took His time, and I lay on the bed, bound and helpless, my pussy already throbbing from the anticipation of what was to come.

Finally, He came back to the bed, arranged the items He'd gathered, and moved next to me on the bed.  He was so gentle at the start.  His hand moved softly and slowly along the inside of my right thigh, a really light touch.   His fingertips moved from my thigh to my pussy lips, lightly brushing against the soft, smooth skin.   With a slow, deliberate motion, He teased me as His fingers circled the outside of my pussy, over and over and over.

It was a delicious torture, and it seemed to go on forever.  He swirled His fingers around and around, ignoring my moans and the fact that my hips were raised in a vain attempt to get Him to press just a little harder.  He teased me right to the brink of orgasm without ever parting my pussy lips or touching my clit.  That soft, gentle, teasing touch was all it took, and as I was oh-so-close to cumming, He stopped.

The gentle, swirling touches were replaced by a hard smack as the palm of His hand landed squarely on my pussy.  Once, twice, three times, over and over, all hard, all sharp, all showing no mercy.  The orgasm that had been looming instead receded.  Now my pussy throbbed from the pain of His stinging blows, and He spanked me there until I started to twist against the ropes holding me in place and yelp in pain.

Then He stopped.  Apparently we had reached the end of round one.

While I lay there, trying to catch my breath, He moved His hand back between my legs.  He rubbed my pussy, softly, as if to make it feel better.  This time, however, He parted my pussy lips, His fingers exploring the wetness.

His touch remained gentle, and now He traced soft, slow circles around my clit, and it didn't take long for the pre-orgasmic levels of excitement to return.  Once again, He brought me right back to the brink of orgasm.

And stopped.

He shifted His position on the bed, moved so that he was kneeling next me.  He picked something up off the bed, from where He'd set the "toys" He'd gathered up before we started.  I felt something cool rubbing against my pussy, and I knew what it was:  the long-handled plastic shoe horn.  He loves that thing, because, as He says, it gives great aim.

This was going to hurt.

And it did.  It hurt a lot.  He smacked my bare pussy with the shoe horn for what seemed like an eternity.  He enjoyed Himself, too, because at one point, I twisted my head to the right and I could see He had His left hand on his cock, stroking Himself while He spanked me.

Once again, He hit me down there until I was twisting against the rope, begging Him to stop.  After a few more hits, He stopped.  This was the end of round two, and my pussy felt like it was on fire.

He put down the shoe horn and moved His hand back between my legs.  Yet again, His touch was so gentle, fingers lightly swirling around my clit, teasing my pussy right back to the edge of orgasm.  I was ready to cum.  I wanted to cum.


But it wasn't time for me to cum.  It was time for round three.

He grabbed the shoe horn and landed several rapid shots, right on target, right on my clit.  The pain was exquisite.  And as with rounds one and two, round three continued until I pulled against the restraints and cried out, "It hurts!"

The shoe horn was set aside, and He moved in between my legs.  He commented on how my pussy was swollen and puffy.  This seemed to please Him.  He grabbed another "toy," and once again I felt a cool sensation in between my legs.  When it buzzed to life, I knew it was a vibrator, and He rubbed it over my clit and teased me with it, bringing me right back to the border of an orgasm.

Then He asked, "Do you want more pain?"

And I said, "Yes, Master."

Sometimes, It's What a Girl Needs...

Last night, as we lay in bed, trying but failing to go to sleep, I started to think about sucking His cock.  Really thinking about it, how it would feel at first in my hand, then in my mouth, hard and excited.  I thought about how I would use my lips and tongue to arouse Him and make Him moan with pleasure.  I thought about the taste of those first drops of pre-cum...

Then I realized, I wanted needed to suck His cock. 

So I rolled over to face Him, put my hand on his arm and began to lightly stroke.  I kissed His arm a few times.  When He rolled over on His back, I knew He'd gotten the message.

I moved my hands up under the blanket and toyed a bit with His nipples.  He likes that; they are quite sensitive and playing with them is a turn-on.  Eventually, I slid my hand down His torso to find what I was really after:  His cock.

Using the palm of my hand, I rubbed up and down, letting my fingertips graze against His balls.  Over and over I massaged His cock, and with each pass of my hand it grew harder and harder.  When it was nice and stiff, I said to Him in a very soft voice, "I want to put my mouth on you."

He replied, "Oh, you do?" as he placed His hand on the back of my head and guided me towards His shaft.  I cupped His balls as I placed my mouth around the tip of His cock.  He moaned a little, and I liked that.  I like to please Him in this way.

I worked my mouth up and down His cock, getting it nice and wet, pressing my tongue against the underside.  Soon I found my rhythm, the tempo of motion that's just-right, the swirl of my tongue around the bottom of the tip, up and down...He was moaning, and soon I tasted those first drops of pre-cum.  That made me moan.  It excites me to know He is so excited, to know that I am bringing Him so much pleasure.

He moaned some more, I moaned some more, and then He came, with His hand on the back of my head, pressing my mouth down on His cock as He shot His load into the back of my throat.  He kept me there for a few moments, while His orgasm finished, His cock pulsing in my mouth.

When He removed His hand, I released His cock from my mouth, and swallowed all of His cum.  I felt happy.  He felt good. 

We both felt sleepy.  We talked for a little while afterwards, then drifted off to sleep.

This morning He told me it was a wonderful blow-job, and that He likes it when it's my idea.  Then He added that He also likes it when it's His idea.  Then I pointed out, most accurately, that He just plain likes blow-jobs, no matter whose idea it is.  He laughed and agreed.

Basically, around here, it's blow-jobs FTW! *

*(FTW=for the win, in case you didn't know, or thought it meant something else.)

Tracks of My Tears

This morning the stars and planets aligned, and  He and I found ourselves home alone.  It was unplanned and unexpected, and we decided to make the most of it.  Up early, I showered, shaved, and made myself pretty.  Once I was ready, we met in the bedroom.

No rope or restraints were used.  He bent me over the bed and exposed my bare ass.  While I waited, He reached for His belt.  Without ceremony, the beating commenced.  I did my best to maintain position, but the occasional extra-sharp whack of the belt caused me to raise up off the bed.  His hand in the middle of my back pushed me back down.

After a few minutes of this, He kicked my legs apart.  He reached in between my legs to see if I was wet, and I was.  With one quick thrust, He entered me and fucked me.  But just a little; there was more beating to be had.  And on it went--beating and fucking, beating and fucking, until....

Until the final round of beating, harder, faster, more intense than before, His hand on my back pushing me into the mattress, this round of beating gave Him want he wanted:  my tears.  He beat me until I cried.  As I sobbed, still bent over the end of the bed, nose running, tears flowing, He fucked me some more.   His delight in my tears was very apparent in the urgency of His thrusts. 

He stopped after a few minutes, ordered me onto the bed, and I was rewarded with an orgasm, His mouth on me, sending me over the edge.  I returned the favor, and He came hard and deep down my throat.

I should add that I enjoy my tears, too.  I like it when He makes me cry.  It isn't easy to do; as much as I like it, as much as I know He wants it, I tend to fight it.  I hold back the tears for as long as I can.  So when He takes me to that point of no return,  it's a rush, a relief, and His excitement is a turn-on for me.

Anyway, it was bliss, all of it.  I needed it.  He needed it.  And my ass still hurts, which makes it all the sweeter.