Pimping him out

See this boy here… 6’, dark hair, expressive mouth, pretty eyes, clean shaven… he’s articulate, intelligent, slightly bruised but still usable…

(lift your shirt, boy)

… yes, yes, you can see that bit of damage there, but it doesn’t impact his performance… he’s available to you… you want him?

(turn around, boy)

… well for anything really, doesn’t matter… no, it’s not up to him… yes, well a gag and some restraints will take care of that, so don’t worry…

(open your mouth a little)

… yes, see that, oh yes very soft, pliable, yes see how I can just slide my fingers in, you see how his eyes close, very sensitive to that…

(suck them, boy)

… if he’s been good, he does like a bit of a beating, also being forced, he quite enjoys that… yes, that’s ok, you can touch him, tell me how you want him…

(bend over that table, boy)

*nod* yes, yes it is lovely isn’t it, run your hand over it, like this… did you feel him quiver, delicious isn’t it?… yes, quite reactive, works if you are gentle or rough… you want me to show you, of course, I’d be happy to…

(come here, boy, so I can…)

*laugh* did you like that? Oh yes, he makes some beautiful sounds when you do that, and, well, you can see how he responds, yes he’s quite lovely in that state isn’t he… oh, anything really… groups… well again, once he’s restrained it’s all a bit out of his control isn’t it *laugh*

… no kissing though, I reserve that, no not under any circumstances… yes, I would appreciate a report after the fact, I like to know that he is performing well… I will inspect him for damage after you are done, bruises are acceptable, but anything more will be extra… you want?

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Body canvas

He is restrained on the bed, he is spent, his skin glistening with sweat, his chest rising and falling quickly, his mouth open as he tries to catch his breath. I have left him for a moment and he opens his eyes to scan the room for me. He finds me at the foot of the bed, gazing at him as prey, still hungry. I climb onto the bed between his spread ankles. He lifts his head to watch me and I show him what I have in my hand. He stifles a smile when he sees a ball point pen, and I feel his tensing body relax.

I move forward and slide up, skin against skin, until my mouth is at his ear, my body languid and heavy against the length of him. I lie there for a moment, reaching up, interlacing my fingers with his, fitting my curves into his angles, breathing into his ear, savouring the feel of him under me, absorbing his sweat into my pores, feeling his slowing breath gently raising and lowering his body against me. I want to melt into him through his skin.

I touch my lips to his ear, “Who do you belong to baby?”, I whisper.

I feel him crane his neck to caress my cheek with his, hear a stifled moan deep in his throat, though he has no more want left in him. I press my cheek against him, soft, he slides his lips against my face to my ear, “I belong to you Ma’am”, he whispers back.

I nod against his cheek.

I sit back on him, my knees on either side of his body, and uncap the pen. I wipe his chest with the sheet, he studies my face, amused. I catch his eye and my mouth curls in a half smile, he smiles back, broad, open, trusting, and my heart skips a beat. I touch the tip of the pen to his skin and trace the first letter of my name on him, long and flowing and gentle. I follow the same path of the letter again, the pen is fine point, and sharp. I press a little harder the third time, then harder again the fourth. The fifth time, he winces, by the tenth, he is gritting his teeth and shaking his head, by the thirteenth, I am using some force and he tenses, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping the skin doesn’t break. By the fifteenth, his whole body stiffens as his muscles contract against his restraints and a whimper escapes his lips, the pen like a knife, following the letter’s path. I shift against him, rocking just a little, hunger rising. I move onto the second letter.

When I have finished, some considerable time later, his skin is covered with my name, repeated over and over, the black ink surrounded by raised angry redness, his body an aching declarative canvas.

I lean down to his ear, “Who do you belong to baby?”, I whisper.

“I belong to you Ma’am”, he whispers back and I nod against his cheek.

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Please…

She calls him to be with her at 6pm sharp. In the meantime, she prepares, already walking through the scene in her mind. Feeling herself moisten in anticipation. She puts the ankle and wrist cuffs by the door for him. She readies a bottle of champagne, tempted to have a glass, but wants her senses alert.

Then she waits.

She hears the door open and turns towards the sound. He comes in, as usual, knowing what to do, and undresses quickly, looking at the ground, sneaking glances at her as he puts on the cuffs, already semi hard. She looks at her boy with satisfaction when he kneels before her in perfect position. She grabs his hair in her fist and pulls him hard towards the bedroom without a word. He stumbles awkwardly on his knees, but she keeps her grip, and forces him forward. She stops in the doorway, tilts her chin at him and pulls him upward, pulling him to his feet. She attaches his wrist and ankle cuffs to the four eyebolts in the door frame, his body stretched.

Then she pours a glass of champagne, and approaches him. She touches him lightly, with her fingers, her cold champagne glass, back, shoulders, nipples, stomach, he shivers. She holds the champagne glass in front of his mouth, the beaded condensation wet on the outside.

“Lick it” she whispers.

She watches closely as his tongue laps at the glass, and she laps at his tongue in turn, hissing softly if he so much as turns his head towards her to get more of her mouth.

She sits down in the armchair in front of him in the bedroom, her legs crossed, swinging her boot gently from side to side, sipping her champagne. She watches him, he looks unsure, uncomfortable, goosebumps rising on his skin. Finally she smiles at him. He smiles back, nervously anticipating what is coming.

He makes an irresistible target, her fingers itch with the desire to hurt him.

She puts down her champagne and approaches him. She smacks his cock lightly, “down boy, down” and laughs softly when it has no effect. She brings the handle of the flogger to his lips.

“Kiss it” she whispers again, and watches his mouth closely as he does.

“Lick it”, she says, and as he does, she again laps at his tongue with hers.

Breathing into his mouth, giddy with his soft lips and the wetness of his licking tongue.

She steps back and stalks around him, touching every part of his body, stroking again his back, his arse, his balls, his cock, his stomach, his nipples. She stops at his nipples to give each a sharp pinch, watching his face as he registers the pain and gasps.

She moves close to him, bringing her mouth to his, he strains to reach her, but she stays just out of range. She grabs his hair in her fist, holding his head still and delivers feather kisses to his mouth. Then she quickly pushes forward, pulls his face into hers and takes his mouth hard, bruising his lips, aggressively raping his mouth with her tongue, pulling his mouth into her and pressing her body hard against him. She hears him moan into her mouth and feels her heart skip a beat, her pussy throb.

She reaches down between them and pulls hard on his pubic hair and hears his sharp intake of breath. She feels his muscles as he tries to push himself against her hand, but the restraints stop him from moving. She leans back, still gripping his hair, pulling it painfully, and looks into his eyes, and melts a little as she sees his willingness to give her what she needs, his face screwing up at the pain.

“Ask me to hurt you, tell me how much you want it” she says softly.

“Please hurt me Ma’am, I want it badly, please, please hurt me, I need you to hurt me, please, please…”

She nods and lets go of his hair and hears his hiss of relief. She moves around behind him, he is looking over his shoulder at her and she smiles at him.

Then she starts.

Softly at first, just enough force to swing the strands in a line against his back, and he thinks for a moment that it will be bearable. He always thinks that. She builds up slowly, alternating strikes against his back and his arse. She gets into a rhythm, back back back arse, and she watches him relax into it, calm, as the strikes hit him like a metronome, his back and arse turning red. He starts to grunt softly at the strikes.

She interrupts the rhythm, steps into him. He reaches for her with his mouth, his whole body straining against the cuffs. She presses herself against him, rubbing her cheek against his, straddling his leg to press her pussy against him, her breasts against his chest. Her hands go around to his warmed back and arse, and she scratches her nails down the tender flesh as she brings her mouth to his. His response is immediate and violent, crashing his mouth against hers with a moan, sucking at her breath, his tongue finding hers, his entire body trembling to get more contact with her. She kisses him back, hard, pulling his head towards her to smash against him, teeth clashing, his lip catching and he winces, but doesn’t pull away. She finally steps away from him, and his eyes don’t leave hers until she is out of sight behind him again.

She really goes to work on his back and arse now, swinging hard, enjoying the sound as the strands hit him. She watches his muscles as he starts to really feel it, and tries to flinch away from the blows, but there is nowhere to go. She checks in with him regularly and his reaching for her becomes more gentle, less urgent, dreamy as he loses himself in the pain, so she steps in to kiss him, nudging his mouth open, touching him, bringing him back to her, whispering “You can take some more for me, can’t you boy?” to which he always answers the same, “Yes Ma’am.”

She raises it up a notch, now putting force into the blows, his body rocking with it. He no longer flinches, but keeps his body open to her. He starts to make a continuous sound that starts with something inarticulate and ends up being her name repeated over and over through his laboured breaths.

“Tell me with every blow that you love it” she whispers to bring him back to her. By now he is whimpering, his mind drifting, his body a sheet of pain, and his voice cracks as he tries to do her bidding “Ugh, I love it” Ughhh…I..lovit”… She knows he is struggling to stay with her, and his voice deteriorates into grunts that are edging into panic as he tries to find a place to put the pain he is taking for her. She finally starts to slow down and she feels his relief and disappointment when she stops.

She steps back to look at her handiwork and strokes his damaged skin. She leans into him from behind, pressing herself into his heated body, her hands wandering over his chest, abs, hips, pulling him back against her, her mouth at his ear, she says ‘good boy’ and hears a sob escape his lips.

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The chair

You’re naked, I’m clothed.

You’re sitting in a chair, looking up at me, waiting, anticipating. You are not restrained this time. I smile at you, and drink in your return half smile. A questioning look on your face, but you know better than to ask.

I pull my skirt slowly up my thighs, your smile widens as you watch. I see you twitch, your cock already getting hard. I approach you and straddle your legs, my skirt raised so that I can feel your thighs against mine, skin on skin. My weight is fully on you as I slide forward, your cock touches my panties and I press against it, leaning into you. I’m already wet.

Your arms go around me, sudden, tight, pulling me hard against you, your hands going to my arse to pull my pussy harder against your cock, pressing up against me, reaching up for my mouth, taking my breath.

I lean back and slap your face, hard. Your eyes flash, hurt, defiant, I can feel that you want to ignore it but you daren’t. I lean to your ear and whisper, “You can touch what I say, when I say.”

You nod. “Yes Ma’am.”

“Put your arms around me, gently.”

You nod again. “Yes Ma’am.”

I feel your hands on my back, snaking around my body, under my shirt, your fingers touching as much as you dare, around to the sides of my breasts, down to the top of my arse, up to my shoulders.

I rub a little against your cock, take your face in my hands and bring your mouth to me. You let out a soft moan and squirm a little. I stroke your lips with my lips, the tip of my tongue wetting them just a little. I breathe into your mouth, wanting so badly just to have it, to own it, to eat it. I start to kiss you, soft, feather kisses, gently sucking your lower lip into my mouth, touching it with my tongue. I whisper into your mouth “buttons” and feel your hands at my blouse, obediently undoing buttons.

And I kiss you, and I melt into your mouth and I taste your tongue and it goes on forever and I’m so fucking wet and I rock my wet panties against your cock.

“Breasts.” I whisper, and your hands are immediately there, pulling my bra out of the way, rough, grabbing, pinching my nipples and I bite you and smash my mouth against yours, I feel teeth clash and wince. You’re struggling to get more contact on your cock, and I’m sucking your breath and I can’t get enough of your mouth. I’m trying to breathe and I’m panting into your mouth and tasting your tongue and wanting to get inside you and I can’t get enough of your mouth.

“Pussy,” I growl, and one of your hands goes between our bodies and I shift to give you access, and I feel your fingers against me, and you hold me way from you, touching me gently, stroking the crotch of my panties softly, frustrating, delicious, perfect. So fucking frustrating. I can feel you smile against my mouth as I try and push my cunt against your fingers. I want to slap you, but I can’t bear to let go of your mouth, and it feels like the chair is going to tip as I try and fuck against your fingers. I finally groan and release the kiss and I slap your face full force, and again, and again.

I hiss into your ear, “Stop fucking around and make me come.”

Your fingers push aside my panties and find my clit and I fuck against your fingers feeling the wetness all over your hand, sliding against your cock as I thrust against you. I want more of your mouth, but I can’t breathe, so I rest my lips against yours, leaning into you for support, ragged breaths, hard and fast, concentrating on your fingers against me, inside me, and when I come, I come hard, arching back, inarticulate cries, every muscle tensed, my nails digging into your skin, trembling, your fingers sliding inside me as I grab your hair in my fist, pull your mouth onto mine and gift you my orgasm.

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When I get like this

When I get like this… when I get like this, I can’t breath. My whole body is wired, hyper-aware and it feels like I am huge, like I am bursting out of my skin, like the body that contains me isn’t big enough to hold this feeling, will explode with it, like my skin will split and I will not slowly bleed out of it as much as burst out in a new guise.

And you are here, right HERE, and I am looming, which is the word, the right word, looming, huge and dark. And you are afraid, even though you know its me.

And I crawl, which seems odd for a dominant woman, but I do. You are here, before me, you are kneeling, always. And I crawl towards you, relentless, and I am so fucking ravenous, I want all of you and I don’t know which part of you I want most, or first, or next, I want it all and I want it all now and I am not big enough for that and I don’t have enough mouths, hands, cunts, to take you all at once. But I want you, all at once. And when I reach you, I keep crawling, straight over you, like some huge machine that will suck you up as I cover your body with mine.

And I start with my mouth low, at your cock and you want me to sucklicktonguekissbite, but I am only there on the path to absorbing you, and my mouth is all over you, all parts of you, all at once as I move up your body and I push and I push and you are forced backwards, and it is awkward and you try to stop yourself tipping and I am still moving forward and as I move up you are forced backwards, I can feel your body under me, your skin hot and sweating and I keep crawling over your body and as my mouth reaches your mouth, you are bent backwards and I am all over you, your skin hot and sweating under me and I am like a huge maw and you are disappearing into me, my cunt taking your cock inside, my mouth swallowing yours, and it’s not nearly enough, and all of me is aching and prickly and every touch hurts and you are hard and melting and when I stop and put my weight on you, you start to tremble with the awkward position I have forced you into and I don’t care and I put my weight on you and you moan and I cover you, all of me swallowing all of you and it’s still not enough, and I get into your head and I consume your thoughts, your emotions, your feelings and I take them all into me and they become mine and when I am finished all of you belongs to me.

I fucking want you.

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Pegs

She told him to get up on the bed on his knees, and he scrambled up, kneeling on the edge of the bed, his hands cuffed behind him. She brought out the three pegs he had brought with him, the ‘macho’ pegs, the marquee pegs, the ‘hold-things-in-a-cyclone’ pegs and smiled at him. She brought her mouth to his left nipple, sucking and biting at it before putting the first peg on him, she took quite a bit of flesh, her mouth having made it slippery. She repeated this with his right nipple, and stood back a little to look at him.

“Does it hurt?” she asked him.

He looked relieved… “No, not a lot”, he admitted.

She stroked him from his neck to his navel, then moved the pegs to just be on the tips of his nipples and saw him wince, his eyes squeezing shut, his face screwing up with pain. He had never had this done to him before, and he shook his head violently from side to side, mouth and eyes squeezed shut.

“You can swear if you want to” she told him, watching his contorted face closely, thinking it looked beautiful.

“Fuck… fuck… fucking bastard…FUCK, FUCK…!!”.

She laughed softly, and wondered, really, if he did this for her, this swearing, because he knows she loves it… she didn’t think the pegs hurt that much, but the sound of him in pain made her stomach turn over with lust.

She chased his mouth, even as the swear words poured out, but he was shaking his head from side to side, trying to find somewhere to put the pain. She held his head still by his chin and she caught his mouth, she kissed him hard and he kissed her back, his mouth opening to hers, her violence in the kiss making the pain lessen. She kept asking him if it hurt, and he kept saying ‘yes, yes YES’, his answer getting shorter and more frustrated. He was wincing, struggling, not paying attention to her due to the pain. She trailed her fingers over him. His boxers were wet with precome, his cock hard.

She told him he could ask her to take the pegs off if he wanted, and he immediately asked “Please Ma’am, please take them off”. She kissed him again, waiting until she had his attention from the pain and he put himself into the kiss. Then she took the pegs off, and his body slumped in relief and his face relaxed and she moved close to him.

“Do you want to see how wet this makes me?” she asked, looking into his eyes.

“Yes Ma’am”, he nodded, his face open to her now, his pain forgotten.

She was standing very close to him, she undid her belt and jeans… He leaned away from her a little so that he could watch as she slid her hand down into her panties. She was very wet and her fingers slid easily down her pussy, she stroked herself amazed at how wet she was. She brought a glistening finger up to show him, then put it on his lips.

“Do you want to taste me?”, she asked.

His eyes were on hers, his mouth already open, his breathing shallow, “Yes please Ma’am”.

She slid her finger into his mouth and he licked at it. She moved her finger in and out of his mouth gently, feeling his tongue lapping at it.

“Do you want to *feel* how wet you make me?”.

“Yes please Ma’am”. She considered making him beg, but she felt as if he was struggling a little with all this newness, that it was all he could do to stay with her.

She leaned into him, reaching behind him, pressing against his skin, and undid his cuffs. She brought his left hand out from behind his back, took off the cuff and guided his hand down her flat stomach into her panties. He was fumbling a little, and she covered his hand with hers and pushed it down. He made a noise in the back of his throat as he found the wetness and slid his fingers along her pussy, his mouth open, his breathing heavy. She pushed his hand down so that his fingertips just entered her, then pulled him up slowly, feeling his fingers wanting to get more of her, wanting to find her clit. She rocked against him just a little. He brought his other hand to her hip to pull her to him and she shoved it back behind his back and hissed ‘No!’.

She pulled his hand out of her pants and directed it to his mouth, he licked his lips and he waited, looking into her eyes. She wondered if he was going to beg, but he waited, his tongue already moving in anticipation. She pushed his fingers hard into his mouth, and he sucked on his fingers, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Was I wet?” she asked unnecessarily, pulling his fingers from his mouth.

He nodded and smiled at her, “Oh yes Ma’am”.

She took off his other cuff and put a blindfold on him. Unable to resist his mouth, she held his hands behind his back, pressed against him and found his mouth with hers, playing with the fact that he couldn’t see, pulling away and coming back to him suddenly, watching his mouth anticipate the contact then denying him.

Finally, she stepped back from him.

“Undress me” she instructed him.

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Thinking

Thinking…
About masturbating
Thinking about you, and thinking about masturbating
Thinking about you, spread-eagle, restrained and blindfolded
Face up, on a bed
And I touch you, with my fingers, my mouth, my hair, my breasts
Different places, all over, in different ways, to see how you react
And if I get what I want I do more of it
Like I might expect if I licked your cock from base to head with the flat of my tongue
Or if I nipped the inside of your thigh with my teeth
Or if I stroked your lips with my breast and then a nipple
Or if I licked and nibbled at your neck, right at the jugular
Or if I straddled your chest and rocked my cunt against you, wet
Or if I held your head still by your hair and kissed your mouth without letting you kiss me back
Or if I rubbed your cock softly with my pussy, just stroking it in the wetness

Would you fuck up against me to get more contact?
I would move out of your reach, because I would love to see you fuck up towards me and not get what you want
And maybe if you looked like you wanted it badly enough, and you moaned in frustration, I would take your mouth with mine and swallow the moan down my throat

And maybe I would bring my cunt up close to your mouth
And maybe I would ask you how much you wanted it
And maybe I would stroke myself, close to your face
And linger on my clit, and it would make me moan
And maybe I would slide two fingers inside myself and back up to my clit, and down again in a hypnotic motion
And bring my fingers to your mouth, and touch your lips
And keep my fingers touching your lips, wet, so you can smell me, and make you beg to taste me
And if you begged, I would slide my fingers into your mouth and gently fuck your mouth with them
Sliding them over your tongue and whispering ‘lick me baby’
And maybe your tongue would feel so fucking good that I have to have it on my cunt

And I would lean down and kiss you, with my fingers still in your mouth, and my tongue in your mouth, and ask you if you want to lick my cunt
And maybe I would straddle your face and bring your mouth up to me, and watch your tongue reach for my cunt and keep it just out of reach
And hold your head away from me by your hair and ask you what you are waiting for
And feel you pull against my fist in your hair

And maybe if you said please enough times, I would relent and bring your mouth to my cunt and let you lick me
And I would want to fuck your mouth, but I would want the licking more
I would want you to make me come, but maybe, maybe you won’t be allowed to
So maybe I would stop you if I was close to coming
And I would tell you that you don’t get to make me come
So maybe I would kiss you, taste myself on you and whisper that maybe next time
Excruciating isn’t it?
Delicious

I’m so fucking wet
Like an itchy restless springwell of want

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