Absence

It had been six weeks since she had seen Him.  Her body craved Him, needed Him.

They spent the morning at His work.  He wore His uniform.  It turned her on.

They came home and sat on the couch, relaxing.  He still had his uniform on.

He told her to go get her crop.

She did as she was told.

She knelt in front of him, holding the crop.

He told her to stand and He removed her panties.  He bent her over His knees - her sundress up around her waist.

He started spanking her, fast and hard, stopping occasionally to smooth His hand over her warming ass, only to start again just as hard.  She had to remind herself to breathe.

He let her up and leaned her over the couch, spreading her legs wide.  The crop/cane was brought down against her legs.  She had to bite down onto her hand to keep from crying out. 

He was bringing her there, she could feel herself drifting away.  He wouldn't let her go, though, not just yet.

He pulled her by the hair up onto her knees.  He unzipped the trousers of His uniform and pulled out His cock.  She opened her mouth and He thrust inside of her.  Not a pretty blow job - a hard, dirty, messy face fuck.  Several times He slid His cock deep into her throat, constricting her breathing, and held her there, panic starting to build as she felt her head go fuzzy.

He came like that - deep in her throat. 

Afterwards, she stayed kneeling, resting her head on the couch, exhausted and spent.  He absently ran His fingers through her hair.  She smiled to herself,  closed her eyes, and left.

Home Game

He was in her house.  On her turf. 

She should have felt some sort of assurance from that, but she didn't.  She felt a bit self conscious - awkward in her own home.  This was her territory.  She made the rules here , she decided what happened, and when.

Yet here she was, naked and exposed, feeling like a little girl in trouble.

She liked it.

She brought Him her crop, bridle straps and clothespins as she was told, and was now kneeling in front of Him - her ass in the air and head on the floor.

She both loved and hated being like this.  It's a humiliating position, being presented like that.  Your sex is RIGHT there, no way to hide anything.  There's no modesty allowed.

And yet it excited her, doing something good girl's don't do.

He took the clothespins and and clamped them on her inner thighs, and on her cunt.  They hurt, especial on her sex.

She felt the bridle straps running along her back, and shivered in anticipation.   He brought them down hard, maybe too hard.  She can never really tell if it's too much, or if it is just the contrary part of her fighting letting go.

She took it well, though, and only found her breathing labored when He stopped.

He took the clothespins off, slowly dragging them off her skin. 

She was wet, very wet.  She could feel it against her thighs.

He smacked her with the crop - using it like a cane against her buttocks and the back of her legs.

She gasped and tried to stay still, but it became too much and she had to bring her hands to her face to keep her from protecting her ass.

She knelt there, and felt herself slip away.