Intimatters

We’re back this week to our regularly scheduled erotica. Enjoy XXXBlackBook member Moonmagiclady’s latest erotic instalment.

What Have I Begun Part IV
By Moonmagiclady

Opening the door, I glance at the clock, astounded only ten minutes have passed, but somehow my entire life has changed.  I am greatly relieved none of my coworkers are here yet as I need time to recover and process what has happened to my calm and placid life.  I return to my desk and pick up the next envelope wondering what is in store for me now.  As I sit at the desk and read it, squirming happily against the chair, the sensations of the anal plug deep within me and the pressure against my well beaten ass help me imagine that my master is tormenting me even as he has gone elsewhere…

My puss is still swollen and aroused, not to mention dripping, from the way I have been completely mastered and taught my place in this interaction.  I would be a slave without reserve, and obedience was to be my only option if I want to play this game.  I’ve fantasized this repeatedly, but a part of me wonders if I will be able to handle it now that fantasy is sliding tendrils of opportunity into reality.  Flashes of arousal singing through my nerves distracting me as I try to gather my thoughts enough to read the instructions I have been given by my Master.

“Well Whore,

Now that you have been punished for disobedience, let’s see if you can show me that you are capable of obeying even a few simple commands.

I know the slut that you are is enjoying that toy shoved up in your ass, but I’m afraid you won’t be allowed to leave it all day.  (I gave a small sigh of relief here, I was already uncomfortable and tender, and as the endorphins drained away, becoming more so.)  Leave the plug filling your slut ass for another hour (An hour? groan), then go to the bathroom and remove it.  While you sit there with your ass stretched open for this hour, complete your daily paperwork and concentrate on how lucky of a slave you are to have a master who is going to give you all your shadow drizzled fantasies… and more.

While you weave fantasies from the depths of your hungry slave needs repeat the same mantra as what you were given before: Inhale, “I surrender everything.” Exhale. “I am his.” I’m sure you can do that AND focus on your paperwork at the same time.  Get used to multitasking quick slave because the things I am going to command you to think and do are going to reveal you for what a slut you truly are on the inside.  It should be interesting to watch you struggle to maintain that professional respectable exterior while following my commands.

Oh, and by the way, slaves are only allowed pleasure at their owner’s whim, not their own.  That being said, you are not allowed to touch yourself… at all… ever.  Unless I command you to do so of course, which will only happen for my own amusement.  Go do your work slut.”

That was it.  Not a typical “love letter” that was for sure.  I place the letter in my bag and follow the instructions as given, imagining my master’s cock violating me over and over again as the plug sits firm in my ass.  Every time I shift my weight on the chair spikes of tender trickling pain run over my ass where I have been taught obedience with his belt and the plug continues to insistently push up in me.  Whimpering soundlessly I struggle to focus.  Finally, I close my eyes, take a deep breath to savor all the sensations haunting my body then with the exhale turn to my mantra.

I breathe in and surrender everything, breathe out and admit to myself I am his. I focus on the words and their meanings.  I think of having a partner I can truly surrender everything to, my wants, my fantasies, my needs, my bones and blood deep desire to serve and obey… could it really happen?  I focus on the idea of belonging completely to another to use as he wishes for his whims… could it really happen? I’ve craved and hungered for this so long, it seems impossible it could be happening.  All carried on in the background of my mind focusing on my daily paperwork.

It seems an eternity, but finally an hour passes and I hurry to the bathroom to remove the toy mercilessly tormenting my ass.  I’m almost cramping by the time I am allowed to remove my toy… almost, but not quite.  Somehow, without even knowing me intimately, my master has timed things absolutely perfect for my body.  I wonder again who it is that is giving me these commands, who is it that owns me?

“What a slut I am! ” I think to myself.  I have such a need, such a hunger to be used and owned that I’ll let an unknown person command my obedience.  I squirm in my seat ashamed for a moment of myself.  My movement sends hot stinging pain singing through me again and I question for a moment why I am agreeing to these games.  No articulate answer hangs in my mind, but the surge of my pulse and tightening of my nipples as I close my eyes and savor the morning experiences are enough of an answer for me to begin my day with a sparkle in my eyes and calm acceptance in my heart.

That night I toss and turn in the bed, desperate to touch my wet honeyspot and run my fingers over my clit until I cum.  But, I don’t have permission, and I have no way to get permission.  I hadn’t figured on how maddening it would be to not have any way to contact my master, not to have any way to GET permission to follow my own whims.  But, in reality, that is part of being a slave, I’m here for his amusement, not he for mine.  Still, I want badly to disobey, I’ve learned my lesson though and the taunt of “even a few simple commands” has irritated me a little.  I would strive from here out to show how obedient I could be.

The next morning at work goes by without any contact from my master.  I worry for a moment that my disobedience previously has ruined my chances, but quickly push that possibility to the side.  Punishment had been given and I had learned my lesson, what was required of me now was patience… not a virtue I possess in any great abundance at the best of times as anyone who knows me is aware of… which explains my master requiring it of me.

Although my day passes busily at moments I am not treating a patient I find my mind dropping into my simple slave mantra almost automatically.  In an odd way it is calming, like falling into a warm pile of blankets in the dark.  It allows me to continue to contemplate surrendering and submitting to my master’s whims as well as treasuring being owned as his slave while still living my normal life.  The odd contrast seems almost surreal in my mind.

As I leave work and head for my car I feel my phone vibrate and I glance down to check my messages.  To my surprise, the text is from my master.   It reads, “Go straight home slut. Finger your puss in the shower until you almost climax, but don’t you dare finish!  Dinner 4/1 @ HKB 700.”  I shiver and wonder what he has planned for me while starting the car then spend the drive home letting my mind wander over the possibilities.

My windows are rolled down and the sunroof open for the short drive home.  The warmth of the tropical sun on my skin contrasts with the cool breezes caressing me and carrying the island smells of green growth and clean salt air.  I love the way the heat of the islands warms all my body down to the bones like the caress of an ardent lover while the breezes cool my skin and let me savor the kisses of the sun.  Any stress from my work seems to melt away in the beauty of the day and my thoughts return to my master.

The phone vibrates again while I’m driving, but this time is for me and I wait to get home before glancing at the next text.   When I do it draws a smile from me.  “PS Moon. I licked my fingers.  You’re just as honey musk delicious as I knew you would be.”  I smile wider in joy at the simple compliment and run the tip of my tongue over my lips.  I suppose a lot of women would resent what I am diving deeply into.  I don’t know why I crave the things I do, but I have accepted that I do crave that touch of darkness.  I’ve accepted, no embraced that right now, my unknown master is the one who can use me the way I need to be used.

To my surprise, there is a slender package on my door step with a single moon orchid tied with black ribbon across the top.  I grab it as I unlock the door and toss it on the table while I grab a glass of red wine and take a quick hit before going to open it. A simple note flutters out, “For Tonight Slut.”  Inside is a new toy for me to wear out to dinner tonight.  It’s a remote butterfly vibrator with a harness and a small vibrator to go with it.  I look at it doubtfully for a moment, I’m pretty sure it won’t be myself holding the remote to the vibrating toy as it’s not in the package.  After a moment though, a smile crosses my face.  I like being taken to my limits to see if they still are my limits.  And being taken to the limits of my pleasure while trying not to reveal it in public should be interesting.

I strip off my professional black slacks and cream top I have worn to work that day and begin to run a hot bath in my claw footed tub.  As steam begins to rise, I add a few drops of vanilla, cinnamon and orange oils to the tub and soon the lovely scents permeate the air.  I light the abundant candles in the bathroom sending more scents swirling into the air with the rising steam before hitting the light switch.  I step one foot into the hot water hissing through my teeth as the heat hits me.  My skin tightens in reaction to the change in temperature even as my muscles begin to relax.

Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror I run my hand softly over my curves of hip and breast, imagining it is my tormenting master’s touch teasing me with caresses.  I love my tub because it’s a little larger than average and I could just spend hours in there enjoying the caress of water around my body.  In moments I’m submerged in the hot water, hands slick and wet running over my skin.  Careful not to slip, I arch my back high and lift my hips out of the water.  As drops tumble from my body, I slide my fingers deep into my pussy, savoring the way the water has washed away lubrication and I have to push roughly to get my fingers inside.

I do love that feeling of forced penetration.

My hips splash lightly back down in the water and I close my eyes as my own fingers slide in and out… in and out… in and out.  I take myself to the very edge of climaxing then pause to savor riding that razor line of arousal and completion.  I savor the feeling of the cold tub against my back contrasting with the hot slide of the water over my skin.  I open my eyes a slit in the candlelight and look at my body, admiring the wet sheen of my tanned skin in the candlelight.  My hands are caressing and squeezing my breasts, fingers traveling from one nipple to the other squeezing and pinching until I am restless and splashing water all over.  Will he do this to me? I wonder.  Will his touch drive me to the limits of my senses and beyond?

Inhaling the warm aromas riding the air I wonder about the scents of my master, what would he feel like, taste like, smell like? I want so bad to be completely consumed and taken by him, penetrated, used and treasured for a prize pet or possession to use at his whim. Thoughts of being completely owned and used push my arousal to yet another level and now I have to be very careful to follow my directions and not climax.  It would be so easy at this moment, only a few more slick tight circles on my swollen clit and I’d be there.  Instead, I stop, determined to follow my master’s earlier directions and prove I can be obedient.  So, instead of the climax I’m craving, I allow my arousal to fade, then grabbing the soap start the whole process over again.

My own caresses are slick and smooth now, almost impersonal with a slick surface of soap between my palm and my skin.  I wonder if this is how it will feel to have my master’s hands on me.  I say a quiet prayer to the universe in general to please, please allow me to have this.  Let me kneel before him and give myself to him, let me gift him with all my slave needs and craving for obedience before he takes me and shows me what darkness I truly yearn for.  Pouring a stream of hot water over my belly and breasts to rinse the soap off them, I follow it up by holding my breath and sinking my head under the water to shake the soap from my hair before forcing my arousal down again.

I am very grateful for being permitted to touch myself, but at the same time it’s a greater torment to not be allowed to climax.  I’m craving that pinnacle of pleasure pretty badly at this time, but not as badly as I’m craving my master’s touch or the approval in his voice for my obedience.  Draining the water out of the tub with a small frustrated sigh, I dry off with towels freshly pulled out of the dryer, my wooden floors a caress across the bottom of my feet and the towels a teasing touch across my always subtly aroused skin.

Padding into the bedroom, I slip a soft cotton red sundress with black embroidery forming a vague abstract pattern over my head and shoulders.  It slides around the curves of my body like the caress of a wind lover.  Usually I don’t wear panties, but tonight I will wear the thong/harness that my master has sent with the toys.   I am almost too high strung at this point to be aroused but I need to be wet for the vibrator to penetrate me.

I slip the vibrator into my mouth, sliding it back and forth while I close my eyes and gently suck on it, imagining it’s my master’s cock moving between my lips.   Leaving it wet with saliva, I slide the vibrator into my pussy with a quiet whimper of anticipation, then adjust the straps for the butterfly so that it is pressing firmly against my clit  I make sure that all straps on the harness are snug and properly positioned before letting the skirt of the dress fall down over my ass.  I glance in the mirror and smile, glad it’s not visible under the dress.

A pair of lace thong shorts I have to wear around the house slide on under the sundress to make sure the panties stay where they are intended be and to make sure I don’t flash if the wind blows too hard.  I rub a dab of gel into my wet curly hair, toss it back and dab on some light powder before grabbing a pair of sunglasses against the last light of the day.   Wondering what the night holds for me, I slide into the car and head for the bistro where my dinner is planned.