This was our first weekend away. Our first weekend in a hotel together. But when I saw her bag of tricks I knew that she had other things in mind besides relaxation.
Something told me that this time was going to be vastly different. My hands were bound behind my back, as opposed to our previous encounter. Perhaps she felt that she was too liberal before. Whatever the case, there was an apparent lack of sensuality.
She asked if I remembered the rules as she blindfolded me but I must have answered too casually. Her tone suggested that she knew I was feeling all too comfortable and there was nothing gentle about the way she clamped my nipples. It was as if she were completely detached from me. As if I were nothing but her play-toy.
As her hands moved along my body, I could feel my mast quickly rising. I was expecting pleasure. I was sadly mistaken.
“Did I give you permission to be hard?” She said.
“No Miss,” was my reply.
She responded in a serious tone. “You’re not allowed to be hard. Get soft right now.” She began smacking my cock in the direction she wanted it to go.
I began to wonder why she tasked me with such a difficult feat. The pain was my pleasure. My arousal was the result. However, this wasn’t about my pleasure. It was about hers. I wasn’t losing my stiffness fast enough.
“Didn’t I tell you not to get hard?”
Before I was even given a chance to respond, I felt the stinging pain of cold ice against my manhood. My underwear was now filled with more than a dozen ice cubes. As I concentrated on letting the cold take effect, she tortured my nipples some more.
Eventually she removed the ice, and my erection was no longer present. I breathed a sigh of relief. She must have heard me, because she quickly attacked my nipples once more. I felt teeth, nails, and other objects pinching them.The grunts, groans and moans began to escape me. Just when I thought I couldn’t stand much more, she offered a glimmer of light. The clamps were removed.
“Do you think I should be nice to your nipples?” She asked.
I answered too quickly. And very foolishly. “Yes Miss.”
The sternness of her retort sent chills down my spine.
“Wrong answer. This is about what I want”
She replaced the clamps in a manner that was anything but gentle and the intense sensation of pain returned.
She forced me on all fours and sat on my back for a few moments, using me as her personal chair. The weight of her was apparent but I didn’t waiver, I stayed as sturdy as I could. I was then led to the floor by the rope she had conveniently tied around my cock when it was erect, and forced onto my back. It was very painful to lay on my hands, but somehow I think she was aware. In fact, she probably planned it this way.
She left me alone for a few moments. I heard metal lightly clinking and then I could feel the stinging of the rolling blades as they traveled up my thigh. I tried to hold back my pain, but this was a mistake. She began to roll her device of torture in a more furious manner than our first encounter. My grunts of pain were becoming increasingly more difficult to restrain. I felt as if her goal was to watch me suffer. To drive across the point that pleasuring me was not her main goal.
Eventually I was brought back to my feet. She led me over towards the bed. Without even telling me what was going on, my mouth was directed towards her vagina. I began to give her oral pleasure, hoping that this is what she wanted. I was now afraid of the consequences if I chose wrong. Her response came in the form of pleasurable moans. I wielded my tongue in the most efficient way I could think of. I didn’t want to consider what would happen if I didn’t pleasure her to the best of my ability. Once she achieved a considerable amount of wetness, she pulled my head about. She imparted a few words unto me. Words that I would do well to remember from here on out.
“This about what I want. You should be glad I even let you touch me”
I felt like less than a human being. As if I didn’t matter in her presence. Is this what it is truly like to be dominated?
Written by Locs
Edited by Mistress