Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
The first thing you remember from Saturday morning is the light in the bedroom becoming far too bright as I had flung your blackout curtains open. Actually, that’s not right. The very first thing you remember is the dim image of my silhouette hovering above you, kissing your neck and then your ass, and tucking you back under the comforter. You’re not sure how long ago that was. I can tell you’re a little discombobulated when you finally peek out from under the covers and notice it’s already ten-thirty. You’re normally such an early riser.
“Good morning!” I say.
With eyes closed and a smile that took no small amount of effort, you reply “Good mormuf, Dahhh”, and flop back onto your pillow.
I walk back around to your side of the bed and readjust the tray with your breakfast. “Wouldn’t want this getting cold,” I hint. Your eyes finally open wide enough to see that I’ve prepared a brunch solely from items on the “approved” list that we decided upon a couple months ago. Overnight oats with fruit, a small egg scramble with onions and chives, and some toast. A little something to break your fast but let you stay ready for what’s in store. As soon as you smell it, you realize how hungry you are.
“Mmmmm, Daddy! You’re so good to me!” you say, suddenly wide awake as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and dig in. After a few mouthfuls, you pause and a confused look comes across your face. “Wait. You didn’t make this, did you? Where’d you get this?”
“Easy, I called Whore Dash!”
It takes a second for that one to sink in.
“God. Dammit.” you reply as the fork falls from your hand and clatters onto the plate. “You set this all up just so you could use that horrible pun!” you say accusingly, pointing your knife at me. Once again, all you get is my ‘awww-shucks’ look, and no effort on my part to deny it. Shaking your head, you return to your food. I pretend to be busy on my phone, waiting for you to finish.
Its instinct for you to be the one to clear your dishes, but I stop you. “I’ve got those. Why don’t you pop into the bathroom and see what’s in there for you?” Half of you wants to crawl right back into bed but the promise of yet another surprise is too much to ignore. As you walk to the bathroom you try to remember which present this is. Eight? Nine? Whatever it is, you’re starting to feel spoiled! Sitting laid out on the counter is a new set of underwear – a black open-cup bra with dark red ribbon running all around it and a new pair of panties that read “anal princess” across the ass. You disrobe and put them on right away, realizing the panties are made with an opening in the back that’s invisible unless you pull both sides apart, revealing more than enough room for easy backdoor access. You busy yourself by taking last night’s plug out and washing it.
As you prepare for the day with a quick splash from your trusty enema bulb, you notice two other presents tucked away on the side of the counter: a box, and an envelope tilted along side it. It’s all too easy to guess what the box is – yet another toy, this time a nice weighty one made of light purple silicone. Instead of reinserting last night’s plug, you lube the new one up and squat down, pushing until the flared end rests against your outer sphincter. Right as you’re about to stand back up a knuckle bumps the controls and it starts vibrating. “Oooohhhhh!” you squeal.
I appear in the door to the bathroom. “Sounds like someone found her next presents!” I can hear the buzz of the vibrator as it massages the inside of what you so perfectly called your “pleasure hole” the last time I spent the weekend. That phrase definitely caught me off guard, and I had replied by asking what you call your vagina if your ass is your “pleasure hole”.
“What, this disgusting cunt? My pointless pussy?” you continued. “This miserable thing that’s only good for producing lube? This meaningless opening and my stupid little clit that keeps tempting me to play with it instead of being a true anal-only girl, letting you give me orgasm after orgasm solely through the only entrance that matters? I call that my dead-end hole because physically, mentally, and sexually it truly is a dead-end. Please ignore it.” One time you called it your “vestigial reproductive organ”, and spent a few minutes comparing it to your appendix or your tailbone. You even made me cum once when we were being naughty over FaceTime by zooming in on your pussy and punishing it – spanking, slapping, poking, and clamping all the while telling me how much you needed to have it removed because it just gets in the way. Not that I’d ever think you would actually do something permanent, but you sure do know how to push the envelope when you talk dirty.
I watch you play for a moment with the newly-vibrating toy and then help you up to your feet. You step backwards and pull me with you until your ass is touching the edge of the vanity and you haul yourself up onto it, legs wrapping around me. “Play with me until you’re hard, Daddy?” you ask. Instead of giving into your temptation I stand firm, reaching down and turning Etiler escort off the toy off which elicits a sigh of antsy disapproval from you.
“A good slut is also a patient slut,” I pontificate. “I don’t think I’m going to fuck you again until tonight. Plus, you have one more morning present to open.” I pull your panties up for you and then hand you the envelope which you rip open. Initially, the writing on the sole piece of paper within makes no sense. “Come,” I demand.
I’ve rearranged the bed while you were busy. There’s a mound of pillows in the shape of a C which I have you sit right in the middle of. I then hand you your laptop, and the piece of paper makes more sense. There’s a website open, and the paper has a login code of some sort. You log in, and see a list of thumbnails. I tell you to click the last one.
You immediately know what you’re watching and stare silently in disbelief at yourself being led up on stage by Violet. It’s the video of last night but the camera is shooting from behind the crowd, showing the whole stage. “But how?” you ask. “How do you have this already?”
I lean forward and pause it. “Well, the cameras weren’t just there for the crowd’s benefit. They recorded all three feeds, including the one in the back of the room you never noticed. Oh, and I did some searching and found a woman who thinks you’re super hot and just so happens to be a really good video editor. And she works for a reasonable rate, too!” I sit next to you on the bed. “I paid extra to have this one ready by this morning.”
You press play with one hand and turn the vibrator back on simultaneously with the other. You can’t help but notice the quality of both the video and the editing; this is not a grainy cell phone capture. The shots transition seamlessly as you watch yourself come up on stage, get stripped of your dress, and have your hook removed. You grind on the vibrator and increase the speed as you watch yourself being led by a leash to the bed. Even though you lived what you’re watching only hours ago, you’re shocked at how exposed and vulnerable you feel seeing your naked figure bent over the bed as we begin taking turns spanking your ass. It’s only now that you truly realize how animated the crowd was even from the beginning. In a flurry, you stab at the pause button again and toss the laptop to the foot of the bed. “I can’t do this.” you say.
For a split second my mind races as I try to figure out what line we’ve crossed; watching yourself do what you did willingly the night before wasn’t something I was worried about. If anything was going to be over the boundaries we’ve established, that wasn’t it.
“I can’t watch this without you inside me,” you say as you lunge across the bed and pull me towards you by my belt. I mount a feeble protest, reminding you that I had promised to save all my energy for the main event tonight but my defenses crumble. I made this monster, and these are the consequences. As you strip me naked, I think to myself that these are consequences I could live quite happily with. After my clothes are off you push all the pillows together and flop down on your stomach, laying on a pile of them with the highest point of your body being your ass, head and shoulders propped up by your elbows, laptop in front of you. The video’s already restarted and your eyes are locked on it. “You can use that useless pussy for lube and then fill me up.”
I hop onto the bed and pull the vibrator out, watching the screen as we finish spanking and flogging your ass. It slides out easily and I hand it back to you. Your eyes never leave the screen as you place it into your mouth. Three quick balls-deep thrusts in your soaking pussy brings no reaction at all. “That’s enough” you mutter around the plug as I pull out, knowing I’m fully lubed. I hover over your ass and lower myself at about half the speed I’d entered your pussy, eliciting deep pleasure-filled moans as you grind back against me. You’re so well trained at this point that I can drive my whole length inside on the first push and you still shove back, trying to take it even further as I bottom out. I begin slowly as we both marvel at your deep throat skills to the delight of the crowd, double-ended dildo disappearing in your ass.
I marvel at your receptiveness this morning, continuing my long, deep strokes as the pace increases. I put both hands on your shoulders and start to pull all the way out for the briefest moment before plunging balls deep. You cry out at the intensity of all eight inches slamming down with each thrust, stabbing at the volume so you can hear your recorded screams of pleasure just as loudly. A tight shot of your asshole being double penetrated by both toy and man meat brings a flood of sensations and you blurt out “I’m gonna cum for you Daddy! I’m gonna cum with my ass like a good girl!” Your hands are both locked on the computer as if to prove to me you’re denying your sweet spot. The strong, involuntary contractions around my cock force me to close my eyes, overwhelmed by hearing two of your howling orgasms simultaneously. Beşiktaş escort I bury myself as deep as I can, pushing all of my weight forward and forcing you to collapse into the pillows, pinned down and helpless yet eagerly taking every drop of my ejaculate. Your asshole continues in fits of convulsions as you grind circles back against me, squeezing as you watch yourself being face fucked on the screen as I cum down your throat until finally you stab at the computer to turn the sound down, both the recorded orgasm and the real-life one ebbing at the same time. I move my mouth to your ear and whisper “that was quite a performance by you.” It’s hard to tell if I mean what’s on the screen or what just happened.
The video ends and you collect yourself, cleaning off with the cum rag that hangs from a hook on the edge of the headboard, then returning the new vibrator to its rightful place. It takes a few tries for you to get a good grip on it; it’s not as easy to hold as some of your other ones partly because of the wider neck and partly because your ass has been so well used this weekend. Being the resourceful whore that you are, you grab your plug harness from the drawer where you keep all of your restraints and put it on. As you slide into the dress I requested you wear as well as your new panties, you think of something. “Oh yeah! So what are all of those other videos?” I grab the laptop and hand it to you, saying nothing but standing behind you and watching eagerly. The first one you click on happens to be Thursday night’s training session where we played with the two sets of beads. The next one you click on is the night you tried so hard to take a whole fist in your ass and came ever so close, but couldn’t quite do it. The one after that is a well edited, two-camera shot of our first DP session.
“I had these made for us. Every video where we’ve used two or three cameras? Well, now they’re edited down into our own personal pornos. There’s eleven so far!” You browse through them in wonder, reliving a night of passionate lovemaking here or an afternoon of piss play there. You always get so turned on watching yourself submit to my whims. “There’ll be more time to enjoy these later.” I can tell you’d like to stay and watch them all but after staring for one last moment you close the laptop and stand, flicking your dress up with your butt towards me.
“Oh yeah? Do you have even more plans for me, Daddy?”
“Who knows,” I retort while spanking each cheek. “I sure might. Or maybe it’s time for you to play with MY ass for a little while!” I can tell you weren’t expecting that but a sly grin creeps a cross your face as you mull over the possibilities. “Just kidding! You know this weekend is all about *your* ass and nothing else. Just making sure you know that’s always an option. Gotta keep you on your toes.”
“I know, Daddy. You deserve some attention too sometimes!” you say as you grab my ass and pull closer for a kiss.
This is one of the things my dom friends don’t understand. I have two friends in the lifestyle who consider themselves dominant. One of them is coincidentally named Dominick, which naturally led to the nickname “Dom the dom”. The other one’s name is Ted. They made a low-budget amateur porno years ago called “Dom and Ted’s Speculum Adventure” which was not nearly as good as the title might imply. Both of them scoff at our relationship. They tell me over and over that if you let her do anything that puts you in a submissive position (like taking a strap on every once in a while or letting her finger you), you lose standing in the relationship even if it’s something you really enjoy. They can’t fathom that being the one in control can include handing over power for a little while, with the understanding that your “sub” must stay within the precise boundaries you’ve set beforehand. You, however, not only understand this aspect of the relationship but excel at it like no woman I’ve ever been with.
They’re both adamant about needing to inflict real pain occasionally, too. “A sub doesn’t know their place until they’ve been pushed past the point where excitement gives way to suffering,” Dom’s said multiple times. I’ve agreed to differ with them on this one, and left it at that. As I’ve said many times, there’s no greater pleasure than watching you push yourself past your boundaries and overcome the limits you thought you had, then experience ecstasy you never knew possible. There’s no joy in seeing you endure something if the end result is screaming the safe word in a shower of tears. Maybe that’s just me.
By the time we’re ready to leave, it’s early afternoon. You noticed me stuffing a number of things into a backpack, but I made sure you couldn’t tell exactly what I had with me. You ask if we need a car, and I say we don’t – we’ll be on foot until we return later in the afternoon. A few blocks away from your apartment is a well-gentrified neighborhood filled with restaurants, boutiques, and all manner of other stores. We spend an hour or so hopping from shop to shop and enjoying the beautiful fall Taksim escort weather. Near the end of the street where it turns back into old apartments and older houses is the spa you love going to. We stop right before it and I take your hand and spin you towards me.
“Here’s your next surprise. You have an appointment booked, for an hour massage”.
“Awww, you shouldn’t have! But thank you! I don’t know if this thing is going to stay in if I take the harness off though. It’s a little on the small side.”
You’ve done a massage while plugged a few times before. The very first time you tried it, the masseuse noticed it when you had to reach back to readjust. You were mortified but he never stopped, only saying matter-of-factly “If it helps you relax, who am I to complain!” as he continued like a true professional. It was the first time you’d let a stranger know your secret. You’ve gone back to him ever since.
I open my backpack and show you two options with a better ratio between width and stem and you choose the stainless steel one. Grabbing my hand, you walk backwards to a bench and tell me to stand in front of you. Your hand disappears for a moment, sneaking through the opening in your panties and in one motion unbuckling your harness and replacing one toy with the other. You clean the vibrating one and hand it back to me as you stand up. “All set. I’ll take the harness off inside”, you say in a low, sensual tone. Inside, I pay and give you a kiss goodbye, agreeing to meet up in an hour and a half or so.
While I’m walking up and down the street killing time, I’m constantly texting with David. It wasn’t long after we’d started seeing each other that the talk of a three way came up. I think it happened on the second date. Looking back on it, our sex life really did move at lightning speed at first but when you do the sorts of things we did our first time together, talk of being double teamed on the second date doesn’t seem so crazy.
It had almost happened to you twice before: once in college when the other guy got cold feet on the day it was supposed to happen and another time in a relationship a few years ago when everything was set up but your ex-boyfriend got too drunk to perform. You were so mad that after he passed out you spent the entire night fucking his friend, mostly without either of you paying any attention to your pussy. Even though you didn’t get doubled up that time it served as an awakening in other ways as you’d never done so much anal in one night. Every time he came, he’d get hard again in ten minutes and you’d find yourself right back at it, staring across the room at your passed out boyfriend, drunk on the revenge you were getting without him knowing, ass raw from use but still screaming with pleasure. That relationship didn’t last long after that.
Your third time was definitely the charm. At my encouraging, you found David on a dating app and explained in no uncertain terms what we were looking for. He was more than a little enthusiastic and unlike pretty much every other person we’d made contact with on the various sites we used, could actually string a full sentence together and reply to messages with more than two words. Add in the fact that he had some previous experience from a regular threesome he was once a part of and we knew he was a keeper right away. There were four separate rounds of fucking that first night. Now, a bit over a half a year later, you and David get together at least once a week when I’m not in town and you both love teasing me with pictures and videos of your escapades.
I talk back and forth with David for a while about the rest of my plans for the day, how the evening will go, and his part in it. I give him a few details about last night and hint that there’s a video he absolutely has to see. He jokes about how crazy our relationship seems sometimes and tells me how steamed up he is to be a part of it all. I triple check he knows where and when to meet us and the last thing I send him is a picture of you walking out of the spa, refreshed and glowing.
As we start walking, I ask how the massage was and you chuckle. “He asked if I had one in as soon as I got in the room! He wouldn’t touch it though; so professional and such a gentleman! Not sure if he noticed the panties.” After a couple beats you add “Oh, the massage was marvelous too.”
We walk past the end of the shopping area down a street lined with quaint old homes and hundred year old tenements and eventually come to a path that heads to the right into a park where we’ve walked many times (and had sex in at least twice). The path is lined by forest at first, but soon starts to open up as the underbrush disappears. As you keep walking the trees become more dispersed, eventually opening into a large rolling green space a couple blocks wide and at least six blocks long. From this end where the hill is a little higher you can see dozens, maybe hundreds of couples and families dotted throughout the open space, with a walking path that winds in a long C shape from where we’re at to a larger patch of trees on left side of the far end of the park. I grab your hand and pull you to where the trees are more plentiful for a little privacy. “Stand there as I get you ready,” I command. This is the most risky and outlandish thing I’ve dreamed up to date and even I’m a little nervous.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32