Dirty Erotic Oneshots, Mistress_ Red [autobiographies to read txt] 📗

corners even as she sucks him hard again.

The searing heat from her bottom makes her realize she just had her first spanking and she wants more. She's never felt so known. Every pore. Every hair. Every delicate cell. Her first time lying over the edge of her bed being taken. The first time penetrated to such depths and the first time told to hold back from orgasm. She thinks wryly, the first time she could have cum from being fucked.

 

She almost drifts away wondering how you can be married for twenty years and have so many firsts from the next man you're ever with. She would simply have floated off into amazed and detached consideration if he didn't take that exact moment to jerk his cock out of her mouth again.

"You like your spanking." It's a statement. She isn't sure whether to answer or not, but wants to tell him. Wants him to know what he does for her. To her.

"Yes." There's more in her words, but she is unable to express it.

"You want more."

"Yes."

"You want whatever I will do to you."

"Yes." With this, however, she has a moment of trepidation. She isn't as certain. There is still something about him that she should be afraid of. All the worse, probably, that she isn't. She fears nothing he might do to her. She will accept any hardship, any pain, any hurts. Anything he gives. She wants it all.

"You're going to be such a good little sub for me." He has told her how he practices Dominance as a sexual preference. How he is capable of a "vanilla" or regular type of relationship but that he is simply not willing to maintain one without all his needs and wants being met. He's told her how he gets so aroused by the lifestyle she had never heard of before. Not really. How it is the overwhelming presence he exudes during intimacy that gives him such excitement that she feels from him now.

She had never encountered it. Married for so long with so little experience, she had no idea such a wide and delightful world existed. She knows she can't live without it now though. Only her second time under his ministrations and she has had so many firsts that she can't imagine herself going back to the person she once was anymore. Before they'd actually met in person, he had told her that he would push her boundaries beyond anything that she believed of herself then, but she had no idea how far there was to go past the place where she'd always lived. Possibly, even he had no idea how far she would be from where she started after only the first few moments with him. She stepped off into the space of a new world when she opened the door to him the very first time.

He backs up and allows her to rise from the floor. Takes her hands in his and guides her gently to the bed. She's unfooted by the sudden change in sensation. His gentleness is only matched by the violence coiled within him and she knows only that she wants them both. She wants to see and feel it all.

He turns her to the side, face to face with him. Their chests meeting first, before he presses forth and their bodies fully melt. Leg to leg, hip to hip. Face to face. She is stunned by the intensity and dissolves into heat and water.

His hands run up and down her, over every inch and nook. Hers, bound together, can do little but press her palms against the muscles of his chest. His fingers work into her organs. Delve so deeply into her skin that they reach tendrils into her very heart. She can't catch her breath. Panting, gasping, sighing, she strains just to remain with her feet beneath her. His hands finally take her up, just when she doesn't think she can stand any longer. That she won't be able to keep from melting into a puddle of her own at any time. He takes her up by the knees and the back and sets her onto the mattress.

He reaches down where he earlier set the belt and the sports wrap, brings them up and wraps her thighs together. Then her ankles. The belt, he uses to strap her to the headboard and he steps back a half pace to admire his work.

She twists side to side. The belt acting like a pivot point she dangles from. She is afraid to turn over and present her back to him, not wanting to anger him, yet she is also afraid to stay as she is. She cannot remain still and so she arches her body one way then the other. She pulls at the tape, the belt. She chafes her thighs, rubs at her ankles, tugs at her wrists. All to no avail. He has secured her too well.

He groans and she realizes she has been doing exactly what he has told her turns him on so. Writhing. Fighting it. Torturing herself in her need to get out of his clutches. Her heartbeat stills. The entire room holds its breath. The corners of her eyes fill with his wavering hard on. It jumps and drums to the beat that should be pounding through her veins but has stopped cold. The hard staff has taken the rhythm from her thoughts. She doesn't notice until too late the cloth in his hands.

As he silences the sweltered darkness down over her eyes, he kisses her lips in a way that leaves her completely blank. His softened lips close, just pressuring her mouth. Dragging over the top to one corner. Across the bottom to the other. Matching hers evenly and touching, then releasing. Again. She wants him to bite at them, drive his tongue into the back of her mouth and, at the same time, keep the tender touches. She is going mad in the darkness. Her body shooting off in all directions and floating up and away all at once.

The sensations pouring out of her feel like her heart pumping her life away. Every lump a moment further from the person she used to be. Every thump draining the last of her will and sense of self. She soon has nothing left inside her but desire, ache and need.

The kisses go on so long that she feels him still on her lips when the first strike of his belt lashes across her stiff nipples. The shock is so complete that she doesn't believe at first that her breasts are being whipped for the first time. Her body is loose, twisting and flailing all on its own. She still hasn't grasped that the sound of the belt smacking delicate and raw flesh is happening to her. Is the cause of all the fires erupting everywhere on and in her chest.

He sits calmly astride her bound thighs, carefully placing each lash. His arm raising, pausing, then whipping out and down, spreading flares and spears of sensation throughout her wild body. She fights for escape, but only succeeds in swinging her full breasts to present a better target. The tender sides open up to him as they bounce side to side. When she arches her back, the fragile underneath is given to the snap of his leather belt. She can't even cry, so sudden and vicious is the assault on her mercies.

The slashing and burning goes on so long, she becomes numb. Her arms too weary to pull at her bindings anymore. Her legs trembling in fatigue. Her skin shredded open and she imagines blood oozing from welts. Red lines like fields burning in criss cross patterns making her moan in an agony not from pain - that she doesn't feel but for a heightening of all her senses - but from a picture in her mind off her creamy skin battered and torn. She realizes even as she grimaces at this vision, that far from a hideous pain tearing through her, she feels her consciousness sharpened. Trickles of sound echo clearly in crystal stinging air.

One final snap and she feels his hips lift from her shivering thighs. His balls drag over her smooth legs and she feels it acutely. They bounce slightly and she imagines his cock standing straight out, waving.

Her nipples are so hard, they'll never again be pliant. His lips kiss them and shoot electricity ravaging through her organs. The slicing arc of lightning sears her being, burns a wide path and ends in a blazing conflagration in her groin. She screams with intensity.

His fingers have already traveled to the point, even as his lips nibble their way down. She has no illusions about where he is heading. His digits have dug their way between her trapped upper legs and spread the muscles to bring her center into the light. 

She feels a dripping mess. Her light, trimmed pubic hairs matted with wave upon wave of her drenching fluids. Her need overflowing even yet. A steady drizzle keeping her ass soaked and the stream of wantonness making her embarrassed at how her body is responding. Seemingly without consulting her mind or reason.

He manages, somehow, to unveil her clit and to poke it with the tip of his tongue. The explosion from his kiss to her tortured nipples was nothing to this. Her back leaves the bed and slams back down in a whole body manifestation. Her mouth works in silent devastation. Her mind blank and black as her sight.

The sensitive nub shivers at the ruffle of air from his nostrils. A sigh. His tongue pokes again. Her body opens up and runs rampant. The muscles of her limbs flexing in all directions while the skin reaches out for his touch. He has settled his shoulders over her thighs, divided her center with the strength of his fingers and his mouth is tending her garden with heavy breaths and hardly felt nudges.

It's the first time she's felt a mouth taking her clit and driving it to raging destruction. She has never felt so captured. The bubbling starts in her toes and threatens to boil over without her realizing it when he withdraws everything from her. All sensation. Even the weight of his arms around her hips.

Now she hears the screams come. She knows they're from her own core, but she is somehow disconnected from them. They are hanging, out in the room somewhere, in open air, like a mobile of her frustrations, dangling and bumping into her wants, desires, hopes and aches. Moans, sighs, groans and squeals all waving in the loose breeze.

The sensation of loss is debilitating. "You're not to cum without me telling you." He makes it clear to her what will happen if she disobeys him. Punishment. As severe as anything she has ever known. Her imagination flies off the handle. As unbelievable, as incredible, as delirious the sensations he has produced in her to this point, she recognizes that the punishment will be even more consuming. She is afraid.

"If you presume to cum on your own, it will be the last time you cum today." His voice spreads chill through her and he moves to her ear to whisper hoarsely. "I will make you suffer such need that you will beg me to forgive you for days."

"No. Please. I won't cum until you tell me." She has such a tiny, plaintive noise coming from her that she doesn't imagine it as her own. "I'll be good." She squirms on the bed. "I'll do whatever you say. Whatever you want."

"Yes you will." He says simply. His hands grip her firmly and turn her over.

"Crack"

This one so hard her body tries to jolt off the bed. Her shoulders pull at the sockets and her back arcs until the strain sends her into spasms. She cries out. A long, drawn out "oooooohhh!" Liquid flows from her in a steady rush of feeling.

He's kneeling atop the backs of her thighs and his