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Fantasy 2 I waited, kneeling on a pillow, for my m
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Fantasy 2
I waited, kneeling on a pillow, for my Master's pleasure.
An hour ago, he told me to make myself ready. "Dress
sexily for me, and wear your collar and cuffs, my pet. When I
return I expect you to be ready for me." He left, and I hurried
to obey. I lit several candles in the common room, turned down
the lights, and put on some of my favorite meditation music.
I took a quick shower, and brushed my hair. As I looked
at myself in the mirror, I saw that my eyes were bright with
anticipation, and my cheeks were flushed. A brush with powder
and a lick of eyeshadow was all I needed. Then I put on his
favorite lingerie, covering it with a short silk robe.
The hour had almost elapsed, so I changed the music to
some that seemed more appropriate for a scene, and knelt,
listening and waiting. My heart was beating so fast and so hard
that I thought it must be rocking the building.
We'd talked about this, my Master and I. We switch
between top and bottom, but never before had this specific
turnabout occurred. Normally when he is top, we play at bondage
and sex magick, and when I top, I often choose either flogging
or bondage, or sometimes a combination.
Today my Master was going to flog me.
I had no idea what to expect. I knew from watching and
from my experiences as top what a flogging was, and I could see
the reactions of the bottoms, but I didn't know what it felt
like. Nor did I know how I would react. I waited, wondering,
my own anticipation heightening with each passing moment, as I
wondered what was going to happen to me when the lashes hit home.
I heard a key in the door, and I almost leapt up to open
the door, then I sank back down on the cushion, remembering that
I was at his bidding and he wanted me to be ready. As he
entered the room, I continued to kneel, silent and still. I
could hear him moving about behind me, and the clink and rustle
as he opened our bag of toys. He did not speak to me, but
instead lifted my right arm and removed my narrow cuff,
replacing it with a wide locking one. Similarly, he cuffed my
left wrist.
I waited, hearing the faint metallic sounds of chain
from somewhere behind me. Surely he must be able to hear my
heartbeat over the sound of the music, I thought.
"Stand up, my pet," he commanded, and I rose, swaying
slightly as my ankles began to ache from being in one position
so long. He stepped back, watching me, unsmiling, then said,
"Show me." I reached up and untied my robe slowly, gazing at
his face, trying to gauge his reactions. As it slipped open,
revealing the lacy bra and skimpy panties, he nodded. "Very
good, my pet."
He walked around behind me and slipped the robe off my
shoulders and set it aside. I stood motionless as he ran his
hands slowly and gently over my shoulders and down my arms, but
I shivered at his touch, knowing how strong and compelling his
hands could be. He continued to stroke me for a moment,
wakening my skin to his touch, then he stepped in front of me,
and looked deep into my eyes. I looked back steadily, knowing
that he was asking silently if I was still willing to continue.
He saw my confirmation in my eyes as I looked at him
with total trust. Then he reached behind me to unhook my bra.
I waited for him to stroke my breasts, but instead he took my
arm and led me to the footrest. "Lie down, my pet, across the
pillow, and put your forehead on the edge of the chair." As I
complied, he placed a pad beneath my knees and spread my legs.
My wrists were secured beneath the footrest so that I
although I could take my weight onto my arms, I could not move
away. I waited, hearing only the music, and the sound of my own
breath.
I didn't know what he would do. I could only wait.
Thoughts and images of scenes witnessed flitted through my mind.
Memories of when I topped him, flogging him... would he return
kind for kind? Was I setting myself up as a target of any
subconscious resentment?
I gasped and flinched as something touched my back. It
was incredibly soft, like the plushest fur I could imagine. He
stroked my back from shoulders to buttocks with it, and I tried
to relax, but I was trembling. A faint sound I recognized told
me that he was holding the flogger.
He slapped me with the lashes, drawing them down from
midshoulder to the small of my back. It was a light blow, with
no 'thud' and only a tiny bit of sting from the edges of the
leather. I'd felt worse when a friend slapped me on the back.
He flipped the ends against my rear, almost playfully, and I
smiled to myself.
The smile was abruptly replaced with a gasp as he
brought the heavy lashes down on my shoulder with a crack that
drove the breath from my lungs. Momentarily I wondered if the
sound was going to be noticed by the neighbors, then when the
lashes struck me again, I lost the thought.
He paced himself carefully, placing each blow in
precision along the muscles of my shoulders. The forceful blows
left a tingle, as of returning circulation, along with a burning
sting that faded slowly. Just as the sting faded, the next blow
built it up again, until my back burned. I whimpered, and he
reminded me, "You have a safeword, my pet. Until then, I expect
you to respond, but as you choose."
He landed another volley of blows along my shoulders,
and I began to wonder how much more I could stand, then I felt
his hand, gentle and cool, running over me. My back felt numb,
the way a limb or muscle will when pressure has been on it too
long, and yet my skin was so sensitive. I thought I could feel
every crease in his hand as it slid over my skin. I shivered
uncontrollably.
I felt him step back for a moment, but before I could do
more than take a deep breath, he struck my buttocks with a blow
I could hear whistling through the air. I yelped despite
myself, as the ends of the lashes curled around me to bite my
side. He saw my sideways flinch and repositioned himself to
avoid too much curl.
A rapid volley of lashes struck both cheeks, making them
burn and ache. When he paused, I could hear him breathing
rapidly, and I marvelled at how sharp and clear my senses had
become. My thoughts were chaotic and jumbled, with images of
past scenes, stories, and fantasies mixed in with fragments of
phrases as I attempted to make some sense of this.
I gasped again as he struck me lightly with his small
squid, made of strings. He flipped the ends up to strike my
pussy lips and the backs of my thighs where I lay totally
exposed to him. It stung and I squirmed and whimpered. He
continued until I burned from the sting.
His touch made me flinch again as he explored me with
gentle fingers. "You're dripping wet, my pet," was his only
comment. And indeed I was, as his fingers tickled my clit and
then felt me inside. That's funny, I thought, I hadn't noticed.
I pushed back against his fingers, but he quickly moved away.
*THWACK!* He drove all the breath out of me with the
lash, as he struck my shoulders again. This time he spaced the
blows out until I wondered when the next would fall. Just as I
began to think he had gone, the blow reminded me where I was,
and what was happening.
Time seemed to pause. I was sensing, and experiencing,
but not thinking in any coherent fashion. I noted that among
all the images that rushed through my mind, none were of past
events that I found painful or frightening. I had worried that
buried somewhere in my past was something that would rear up and
interfere, but apparently nothing had surfaced to indicate this.
Rapidly he lashed both shoulders, alternating, bringing
the sting to the point where I was trying to avoid the lash,
despite myself. I cried out, and he ran his hand over my back.
It was cool, but it felt like every nerve ending was exposed to
his touch, so that I couldn't help but flinch and shiver.
I'm not sure how long this went on, my Master
alternating between my ass cheeks and my back, and with his
pussy whip. I lost track of my thoughts. The music was no
help, since it repeated the scene track over and over, leading
me back into the spiral of experience.
His questing fingers brought me back, and I arched
against him. "Please take me, Master!" He did not reply, but
pulled his hand away from me. I arched, silently begging him,
feeling my skin tingle with the memory of the lashes. Then I
cried out as he thrust into me, taking me forcefully.
I came, surprising myself, as he continued to move
within me, rubbing my smarting rear with his hands. Then he
bent over me, laying his face against my back and running his
hands down my arms. I panted, matching him breath for breath.
He unlocked my wrists, then gently lifted himself away and took
off the cuffs. He helped me back to a kneeling but upright
position, and wiped my face with a cool cloth.
After a few moments, he helped me stand, then hugged me.
My dazed eyes would hardly focus at first, but I gave him a
wobbly smile. He searched my eyes, and as I focussed more
clearly on his face, I was startled to see tears in his eyes.
He hugged me again, fiercely and protectively. His hands gently
reminded me of my back and I smiled.
My beloved Master is full of surprises. He surprised me
yet again by kneeling before me and murmuring, "Mistress, I am
yours." I pondered. I wasn't certain that I was up to
returning the flogging. In fact, I wasn't entirely certain my
legs were going to hold up for much longer. I led him over to
our pillow pile and indicated that he lie down on his back. He
was still tautly erect, as he often is when waiting for my
command, and I rode him to a mutual climax that left us both
sweaty and gasping.
In the shower later, I grinned and pointed out that I
now have a nice mottling of bruises along my upper thighs. I
bruise extremely easily, which would probably make me the envy
of the ASBers who complain that their marks don't last long
enough.
Over dinner, we talked about the experience a bit and I
promised him that I would share my experience in writing, first
with him, and then perhaps with the ASB community. This was a
first time for both of us... for me receiving a flogging, and
for him delivering it.
I don't think I'll ever forget this evening.
Rhia
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