Fantasy #2

As he carries me into his bedroom, I know to continue my silence. He lays me in a large bath of war water and begins to wash away the signs from the night’s use of my body. He gently sponges me with warm, soapy water, cleaning my face, my breasts, between my legs, washing away all the accumulated fluids. I have no way of knowing if some of his own essence has mingled with the others. When he is satisfied that I am clean, he has me rise from the tub, drapes me in a warmed towel, and leads me by the hand to his bed.

There he has me lie down on the plush covering, drying me tenderly. He begins to apply a soothing balm to my bruised lips, my raw nipples and lightly over my clit and then a deep massage into my anus. As he circles over me, rubbing and soothing, he whispers that the night is just starting for me and it will soon be his turn to use me too. I feel my breath catch and my heart pound but I say nothing. His kneading of my breasts becomes more insistent and I feel him push me down hard on the bed. He instructs me to pull my arms above my head and clasp my hands together. I do as I’m told and I feel the shush of satin on my wrists as he binds me. I test my restraints as inconspicuously as I can and find them quite firm.

I can hear him unbutton his trousers and then the weight of his body astride mine on the bed. His inner thighs, pressed against my ribs, are soft and pleasant, as he squeezes me. He deposits his smooth ass on my flat stomach, holding most of his weight in his thighs but letting a bit bear down on me. As he sits on me, he begins to tell me in a dark, though kind voice, how much he has admired my body in the past and how he has dreamed of this moment when I would surrender to him. I begin to trace my reasoning for placing myself in this position and find I can’t recover it. I sigh as he slides his hand down my cheek, over my lips and then to my breasts, pinching my nipples. He murmurs to me how he has plans for me, how useful I will become and then stops his conversation abruptly.

With the cessation of his speech I feel a change in his mood, an intensity building in the room. The stillness unnerves me and I want to speak, to ask him what his plans are but I know I dare not. As his hand continues to trace over my breasts, pinching my nipples in cycles, nearly ritualistically, I feel my need growing in my groin. The night has been one long expanse of being on the edge for me and I am longing for release. As his hand rolls again over a nipple, I lift my hips, trying to rub against him in some way. He chuckles cruelly and chastises me for trying to cheat. I wonder how long this will last when he breaks my thoughts with a hard crack on my ass. I let out a groan and he forces something into my mouth. I push against it with my tongue and feel that it is leather, like a bit, but I can’t dislodge it. He has secured it behind my head with a thong and I now feel his body begin a slight bouncing motion.

I can tell from the movement that he is holding his cock in his hand, masturbating, and I can hear his breath coming faster. He then grunts and I feel his cum all over my breasts, the warm stickiness and sea smell drenching my senses. He doesn’t move but begins to trace something on my chest with his cum. Some words. I try to concentrate on what he is doing but am distracted by another wallop on my ass. This time my cry is muffled and he speaks again, telling me he will do what pleases him and I would be well advised to do the same.

His tracing starts again but it is now accompanied by rhythmic smacks on my ass, along my upper thigh where the legs meets the hip and I try to squirm out of his way. I can’t though. I am tied and pinioned by his weight on my stomach. Soon my upper thigh and ass are burning, a fire raging and I am chagrined to find myself responding to his smacks, moving closer to orgasm.

He stops his tracing and reaches down to retrieve something from the side of the bed. He places cold, wet, ice on one nipple then the other, while continuing his spanking. The juxtaposition of the cold and heat in my legs is dazzling, and he then begins to move the ice over my hot face, cooling me. He stops his spanking and reaches again over the side of the bed. Although my nipples are numb from the ice I can feel a sharp prick in my left one. At first I think it is a bite but soon realize he has plunged a very sharp needle through my nipple. He pulls through a fine string, like dental floss, and I can feel it gliding along, moving from one side of my breast to the other. The tugging on my nipple stops and I think he is done but instead I feel a weight on the string, like a small tear drop. He moves his head down and begins to lap at my pierced nipple and I can feel the play of the drop on my breast and in his mouth. I expect pain but the feeling is something else, more akin to a tickle, a blending of pain and pleasure. He stops playing with my nipple and I feel ice on the other nipple, re-numbing it and then he performs the same operation. As he sucks and licks on the sister of his first piercing, he tugs gently at the original. I convulse, my hips pushing upward as I cum furiously, unexpectedly. I can feel his smile over my breast, his hot breath blowing over my swollen injury, and he pulls himself up. He lifts my head and unties the bit and removes the blindfold. I feel my face smeared with my hot tears of frustration and he gently wipes them. He lifts my head again and tells me to admire his work. I am afraid to look down, afraid at seeing how he has disfigured me, yet intrigued by his mark, his branding. When I hesitate to tilt my head, he forces my chin to my chest and I am also forced to admire what he has done. He has adorned my breasts with perfectly shaped pearl drop rubies, small, yet enough to feel their weight. He tells me this will help me remember when we are not together who I belong to. He then lays my head back down and kisses me, fiercely, biting my lips hard and rubbing his hands over my clit, roughly pushing his fingers into the wetness of my pussy. He then whispers, “step one”, and repositions the blindfold and bit.

Fantasy #1

I have harbored a fantasy (and isn't this how these things always start) since my days as an undergrad. It was in my first year that I discovered Anaís Nin and began reading and re-reading The Delta of Venus again and again. I would lay outside in a chaise in the crowded urban back yard of my dingy little apartment, covered in a blanket to assist the meager March sun's rays, reading the book, daring anyone to say something to me, and masturbating furiously.

The germ of my fantasy sprang from Nin's book. The story I would read repeatedly was one in which a young woman goes horse riding with her friend and when they stop to rest, her friend whips her with the riding crop, making her squirm under the delightful pain. This story opened my mind to the possibility that my want, my need, to be dominated was not such an aberration after all. The story sunk deep roots into my mind, affecting all my fantasy life in some way. I frequently fantasized and masturbated, and still do. Obsessively one might say. I'd try just about any type of lubricant- from butter to spit to an ice cube, especially in the wicked southern summers, always thinking about being spanked or tied up or being used by many men at one go. I'd wear out various vibrators quickly, but would keep them to use as dildos, exploring anal penetration and double penetration with them.

And it was during this time that I developed one of my most enduring fantasies. In this fantasy, I am set upon a lavish banquet table, in an echoing hall, without clothes, hands bound behind my back, blindfolded in the 'child's pose' on the table. Surrounding me are many plates of various food offerings and bottles of wine. Soon I hear the host greeting his guests. He leads them into the hall and invites them to help themselves to whatever they might like. At first, I feel fabric brushing against me as men and women mill about the table, talking and laughing, picking up some fruit here, cheese there, seemingly oblivious to my presence. I can feel a lustrous glow on my cheeks as people begin to press closer to me.

After what seems like hours, I feel an object being pressed against my lips. I part them and chew on the grape that has been proffered. The conversation continues around me-I am like a second thought, forgotten and then remembered when stumbled upon. I feel something else on my lips. This time a sticky orange. It feels like a man's hand and he pushes his fingers in too, urging me to lick and suck off the juice the orange has left. As he is doing this, I feel soft fingers pinching my nipples. They instantly engorge and I am distracted by how they sway and brush against the rough cloth covering the table.

The fingers are withdrawn from my mouth and I feel a sharp nip on my nipple and then the other. Two different mouths are nursing me, pulling and sucking hard on my erect nipples. The conversation continues but as the sucking becomes more insistent, I feel another hand on my ass, a finger and then two pushing into my very wet cunt. That same hand comes to my mouth, pushing the fingers in so that I can taste myself. A hint of orange musk lingers on my lips. I can feel the table vibrate as someone crawls up onto it, positioning themselves behind me. It is another man and he grips my hips tight as he pushes his hard cock all the way into my cunt. As I let out a gasp, another cock is placed in my mouth. I feel a woman's soft face against my clit and the sucking on my breasts has not abated.

I feel overwhelmed but then another hand is now on my ass, pushing very slick fingers into my anus, probing, pushing, stretching. It is soon replaced by a leather covered phallus, and I feel myself being pumped and pulled from every direction. But, none of them care to bring me to climax. As I get closer, the cock in my mouth bursts simultaneously with the one in my pussy. The woman pulls away from my clit and positions herself on the table so that now her clit is under my lips and I begin to lick her obediently. Another cock slips into my soaked pussy and another slips into my stretched ass. I feel fingers pinching my nipples, relentless, but I am not allowed release. I know not to complain in any way.

The party continues, and I entertain any and all who place anything within me or near my mouth. I am aching from the position, sore from all the use, cum and other liquids dripping down between my legs, my face caked with dried semen as are my breasts. But I continue to entertain, tasting myself again and again on the cocks that have emptied inside my cunt, my ass and then my mouth, not wanting to disappoint the host.

The party begins to decline and the guests filter out. I receive one last pinch and the door closes for the last time. I remain still on the table. The host comes to me and whispers in my ear that I have pleased him. He unties me but does not remove the blindfold. He lifts me from the table, my legs are too cramped to walk and takes me into his bedroom.