alwayzron
Posts: 234
Joined: 9/23/2004
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((Based on an actual experience. All thoughts, feelings and expressed emotions are legitimate.))
The air in the room offered a slight chill that my body greedily accepted and shivered to in response. Whether in reply to the chill of the air, or to the anticipation of what was yet to come I couldn’t say. Each visit to my Lady held unique surprises. It was the anticipation of the unknown, more so than the stinging lash of the flogger that held my nerves as captive as the cuffs that now held me bound.
The carpet felt soft beneath my knees. Still, I shuffled slightly as I tried to readjust my position. My Lady smiled amusingly at my predicament. With my hands cuffed behind me and my ankles cuffed to a spreader bar, there wasn’t much I could do to counteract the cramps in my legs and she knew it. Moving behind me, she pressed her body against mine and pulled my head back against her. I drank in the intoxicating aroma of her perfume and reveled in the electrifying touch of her body against mine – warm and always nurturing. I lived for her touch.
“Comfortable?” she asked, looking into my eyes.
“Yes, my Lady”, I answered. That was my answer for everything. Although I wanted to say ‘no’ on occasion, it was the desire to please my Lady that kept me from it. Are you comfortable? - Yes, my Lady; Do you enjoy kneeling at my feet? - Yes, my Lady; Do you enjoy my crop across your back? - Yes, my Lady. My answer was always the same.
I seemed unable to break the gravity of my submission to her - I still don’t know why. She wasn’t stunningly beautiful. She carried twenty pounds on her medium-sized frame that most of her peers didn’t. And the years, although not cruel, took their toll as her face sported the wrinkles, and her body the sags, which were inevitable on a woman her age. But to me, she was the epitome of grace, class and style. Her every fiber spoke of authority, not explicitly, but rather, in that implicit manner that only a submissive can sense. I sensed it about her when we first met– I sensed it about her still.
She spent the next fifteen minutes busying herself about the house, paying me no mind. One would think I wasn’t even there, except for the fact that I was kneeling, bound and naked in the middle of her living room. I listened for the sounds of her movement, but was unsuccessful as the carpet muffled her bare feet. I felt, more than heard, her presence behind me once again. Unsnapping the cuffs, my arms fell free and I rotated my shoulders to remove the stiffness.
“I thought you were comfortable?” she jokingly asked, feigning concern.
“Yes, my Lady”, came the standard answer that brought a small laugh from her lips.
Unsnapping my ankles from the spreader bar, she walked past me. Teasingly, she let her hand trail off my shoulder and across my arm. Taking a seat on her recliner, she looked at me momentarily with her ever-present half-smile/half-grin before placing her feet on the ottoman between us. She looked me in the eye and raised her left eyebrow as if to say “Well? What are you waiting for”? I knew what she wanted and was happy to oblige. Taking a tube of menthol foot gel from the coffee table, I dutifully began rubbing it into her left foot. Sighing, she melted into the couch giving herself up to my touch. These were the moments I lived for. Moments as these, when I know that I’m bringing my Lady the pleasure she craves and that she deserves. Moving to her right foot, I continued my efforts trying to keep her happy. While rubbing her foot, I slowly brought it up to my mouth, taking her second toe between my lips. Opening one eye, she smiled before closing it again and refocusing on her Nirvana. She’d never had a submissive worship her feet before, she’d told me once. And I’d never had a Domme who so enjoyed the attention I paid to her feet as I licked, kissed, and sucked her toes.
The first time I worshipped my Lady’s feet, she sat on the recliner, as she did now, but had me straddle her legs, while leaning at the waist to service her. As I did so, she alternately slapped my ass while telling me how she preferred her toes to be sucked. Her self-assuredness never ceased to intrigue me. She knew what she wanted and she knew how to get it.
At first I was unaware, but as I busied myself with my task, my Lady quietly brought herself to climax. To say that she was quiet was an understatement. My only clue would have been the slight, almost imperceptible shuddering of her body as she came. As my back was to her, I had no clue at the time that she was pleasuring herself. It wasn’t until later that she told me of her self-indulgence. In time, she became comfortable enough to bring herself to climax with me kneeling at her feet, as was now the case. Knowing that it was my lips and tongue on her toes and ankles that helped her orgasm gave me my own sense of pleasure and satisfaction. This time, however, I could tell from the tension in her body that she was approaching her climax. As she peaked and crested, I continued my kisses and caresses along her ankles and calves. As suddenly as she started, she ended – again, literally silently. My only indication was that of her body going limp in the recliner. Moving to her feet, she pushed me roughly across the ottoman and growled lustily into my ear, “I want to hurt you”. These were the words I was waiting for. The signal that I would soon be subjected to the gifted touch of her hand.
To say that my Lady was gifted at the art of discipline would be like saying Michelangelo was good with a paintbrush. Both would be serious understatements. My Lady had the unique ability to bring her submissives slowly from the sensation of light touch to the climactic raging of rushing adrenaline. It was this touch that I longed for. It was this caress that would soon cause the release of the addicting endorphins through my body that I wanted so badly, so desperately.
She attached my wrist cuffs to the spreader bar, running it beneath the ottoman to ensure I was unable to move – not that I would want to move. Leaving my ankles free, she spread them apart. Knowing my part in this exercise, I spread my legs even wider. Walking around me, she allowed her flogger to play across my shoulders. Lightly and teasingly she ran the flogger across my upper back and down my spine to my ass, giving it light swats as she went. Reaching between my legs, she softly stroked my hardening cock, laughing at its response. Slapping at my ass, I had to wince as a few of the strands landed between my cheeks, contacting my balls. Oblivious to my pain, however slight, my Lady began working the flogger back up my body, striking a little harder with each swing. As my body adjusted to the blows, I began to feel the warmth of its sting start to spread out across my back and ass. Stopping, she softly ran her hands across my back and ass, again, stopping to stroke my cock. It was this yin and yang of pain and pleasure that she used so well. It was the 180-degree change of pace that repeatedly brought me to the edge of one extreme and to the start of another. It was also the signal that the flogger was no longer to be used.
The first sting of the riding crop landed across my ass, leaving its mark, but not with the strength to cause any great pain – that would come welcomingly later. Working her way up my back, she would alternately strike me and then run the crop across my skin. I could begin to feel the welts begin to form. The strikes became more forceful, and my head started to swim as the heat began to radiate across my body. How much longer my Lady continued her work I do not know, as I was lost in my own world. Finally, the feel of her soft caress against my skin and cock indicated that the next phase was about to begin.
The cold feel of the vibrator pressing against my ass came as a surprise. At first I wasn’t sure what it was. My Lady had quite a collection of toys and it could have been any one of them. Firmly she pushed in until I was filled with its length and breadth. Holding it in place, she picked up her favorite and most lethal weapon – a combination riding crop single-tail. Shaped like a crop, it ended with a six-inch piece of leather that sang as it whipped through the air. Teasingly, she swung it over my head, letting me hear it swish in the air above me.
Although I would never tell her, my Lady’s attempts at filling me with fear only succeeded in filling me with additional anticipation. As the leather strand began falling on my back, I gave myself up to my own headspace and became impervious to all else. At some point in time, she turned the vibrator on and my body began to hum both from within and from without. My brain soon began to cloud over from the pleasure-pain dichotomy of the leather strap and I felt myself beginning to soar.
In time, the stinging of the strap was replaced by the soft soothing touch of my Lady’s hands as she brought me back to reality. With the vibrator removed and the cuffs unsnapped, I was left to come back to the here-and-now. Taking her seat in the recliner, my Lady placed her feet alongside me on the Ottoman and softly ran them across the welts on my back. As my head cleared, I looked longingly into her loving face. Smiling she motioned me to my knees.
“You may stroke your cock now”, she allowed.
At first, this was something I was very uncomfortable with. The idea of masturbating in front of someone else was very intimidating for me. When she first ordered me to do so, I found it difficult to maintain an erection. But now I found it to be a reward most cherished. Sitting in front of her, I leaned against the ottoman and slowly began stroking my cock. I closed my eyes as my hand rode the shaft of my cock and I gave in to the pleasure I was experiencing. My Lady watched approvingly, enjoying the pleasure I was giving myself. Within a minute, I could feel my orgasm start to build. I wanted to delay it for as long as possible, but at the same time I needed this badly.
“May I cum?” I asked – I always asked – seeking my Lady’s permission.
“Yes you may”, came her reply, and my entire body erupted. Each welt on my back and ass burned anew and I instinctively arched my back as I climaxed. I was vaguely aware of the screams of pleasure that escaped my lips as I came. But my Lady was aware. As I settled back against the Ottoman, spent and exhausted, I opened my eyes to the approving smile of my Lady. For one brief instant in time, my pleasure became hers as I again gave my will and my body over to her control.
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Serving My Lady ...... - 
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