I stood in the doorway and admired her. It's hard to believe I was looking at the same woman who just a few months ago was so self conscious of her body she would not get undressed with the lights on. Now she was naked. Kneeling on the floor. Hands tied behind her. Blindfolded. Shoulders back and her back straight so her firm breasts were thrust out. Knees apart as far as possible. Perfect. I had learned to read her desires. To know what she was wanting. If her posture had been different, knees close together or the shoulders slumped, I knew she wanted to be punished, disciplined. Her reaction to discipline had surprised me. So had mine.
At first discipline was playful as was most of the master/slave things we did. Early on I noticed she would do things on purpose to get punished. She would not follow orders or would be mischievous. I called her my naughty little kitten. Playful turned serious the time she really pushed my buttons. I was always reluctant to hit hard. I would use a spanking as an excuse to rub her ass but this time she made me very angry. I was hitting hard. Keep in mind I not a small guy. A little over six feet tall, 210 pounds and regular visits to the gym. My hand hurt and her ass was red. Very red. Her eyes were watering. In a husky voice she said "Thank you Master" and rode me like she had something to prove. That was when we picked our safe word. She said she didn’t need one. I said I did. The moment when I stopped spanking her, saw how red her skin was, and the tears in her eyes I was mortified. Men don’t hit woman. I told her I would never do anything like that again unless we had the word. Unless I could be sure whatever I was doing was ok, if I went beyond any boundary she could easily and quickly bring it to a stop. Soon we moved up to a wooden paddle but a belt would do in a pinch. I couldn't bring myself to get a whip or a cat of nine tails but we did find what we called 'the rod', as in "spare the rod and spoil the child." It was similar to a thin piece of cane or bamboo but smooth. Sort of like a stylish switch for those of you who know what one of those is. It left red welts on her ass. And the back of her legs. And sometimes on the insides of her thighs. And she craved it. Craved it. Me, it took me a while to stop holding back. I was about giving pleasure not pain. But the pain gave her pleasure. And to be honest, right now, thinking whipping her at the bottom of her cheeks where they merge with the legs. The way she would whimper…I'm getting hard.
But she was on her best behavior. She was being the perfect pet that night. It was a special occasion. Our last time together. Sam had met someone. Someone she wanted a relationship with. A relationship not built entirely on sexual deviance. That was why I had planned a surprise for her. To fulfill a fantasy. We had often talked about our desires and fantasies. Which is what led us into the dominance life in the first place. Into bondage, and spanking, and denial. Denial was fun. Seeing how long she could go with out having an orgasm. Teasing and tormenting her. Playing with her. Punishing her if she came without permission. We played with ice (I recommend cherry popsicles), hot wax, various oils and lotions. It was during these talks she mentioned the rape fantasy. A man or sometimes a group of men, holding her down, taking what they wanted even though she resisted. The rape fantasy. That one opened a door to a room inside both of us I didn’t know was there.
I told her we were going on a date. Meet me at the bar. I walked up to her and introduced my self as if we were strangers. We had role played enough she knew to go along. I bought her a drink. We moved to a table and shared small talk and an appetizer. She succumbed to my charm and accepted the invitation to come over to my house for another drink. As soon as we stepped through the door I grabbed her and kissed her. She coldly told me she came over for a drink and that was all. I said something cheesy about her being what I wanted to drink and went to grab her again. She slapped me. I slapped her. Hard. And tore open her shirt. She scratched my arms. I slapped her again. We ended up on the floor. I had my hand on her throat, choking her, as I yanked off her shorts and panties. My grip on her throat was so tight it was hard for her to breathe and anything she said was just a hoarse whisper. She quit resisting. I flipped her over, pulled her ass up and took her. Anally.
Anal sex had been my holy grail with Sam ever since our first encounter. It was something she said she wanted too but ultimately resisted and I passed up no opportunity to remind her. My finger was always returning to the scene of the original crime. If I was giving her oral my finger was in her ass. If I was massaging her back she knew how it would end. I even had her wear a small butt plug sometimes. I wanted her ready if and when the time came and this was the time. My hand pressed her face into the floor and I sank my cock into her pussy. A few hard deep thrusts. For the lubrication. Then I pressed the head of my cock to her puckered little asshole. She tried to get up but I pressed her face harder to the floor. She cried, she pleaded, she begged me to stop. If there has ever been a time when I could have justifiably been called an animal, a beast, it was that moment. I took my prize. Hungrily. Greedily. Completely. She never said THE word. Either time. Later, when we lay together, spent, exhausted, cuddling in the classic spoon, her familiar body pressed up against mine, I swear I could hear her purr.
For our final night together I had planned to fulfill the other fantasy. More than one man taking her. She knew I would soon come in and stand in front of her. Place my cock to her lips. But she didn’t know when I stepped aside another would take my place. She would feel hands on her. Several. She would be pushed forward onto her elbows so someone could fuck her while she sucked another cock. I had planned to end things with a bang…a gang bang.
I slid my cock between her lips but I held her head. This was my last night as Master and I was going to be in control. She didn’t suck me. I fucked her mouth. But I could still feel her sucking, moving her tongue, trying her best to be a pleasing pet. Then I kneeled down beside her and whispered in her ear I what I had planned. She tensed but before she could speak I told her I had changed my mind. I could not share her. Not tonight. As I removed the blindfold and untied her hands I told her I was setting her free. There was no slave. No master. No taking. No yielding. We were a man. A woman. Sharing.
It was emotional. Playful. At times forceful. Gentle. Our last ‘first’ was during a cuddle. I held Sam close while she quietly cried. Then she pushed me on my back, straddled me, and softly, lovingly…said good-bye.