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Mine

A Dynamic

By Tori StoriePublished 2 years ago 11 min read
1
Mine
Photo by MohammadO Shokoofe on Unsplash

I have something you want. Something you need. And sure, you can find some elsewhere, but none like what I have, and you know it. So stop acting like you don’t. She sent the message with a devilish smile on her face, knowing she was walking a very fine line with Sir. A message came through nearly instantly, as she knew it would.

You know how precious you are to me, my little hellion. But mind your tongue before it gets you into trouble.

She laughed, delighted at his admonition and the nickname that meant he was starting to become irritated with her antics. She messaged back, But Sir, I thought you liked my tongue…especially when it gets me into trouble. Perhaps it would not be so troublesome if you paid attention to me like you should!

A thrill went through her as she sent this one, knowing that if she had been in the room with him, she would have heard him growl, low and predatory. This was part of their dance, she knew the boundaries and would never cross them, but Sir knew she needed room to misbehave just as she knew he needed the release of disciplining her when she did so. It was five minutes before he responded, meaning he was likely quite busy wrapping things up at work. Her text alert went off and she took a deep breath before looking at it with a smile and a thrum between her legs. When I get home, lovely one, you will have my full and complete attention. Perhaps more than you bargained for. Be ready for me in one hour. All black today, red lips, hair down.

She clenched low in her body when she read this and her heart fluttered a bit in her chest. All black was code for punishment, pain mingled in with her pleasure to remind her to behave. She always grew nervous, even though she trusted him fully. They had been in the dynamic for five years, and in that time there had been plenty of open communication and work gone into developing their boundaries and exploring their comfort levels. She had a safe word, they used a color system as well to signal when to ease up, and she also had visual cues for when she was restrained and gagged, unable to speak. Still, she always had butterflies when she knew she had earned punishment instead of funishment. The fear only served to excite her more and she squirmed a bit, enjoying the slickness already coating her inner thighs and the swollenness of her center as she did it.

The throb began to build as she undressed for her shower, feeling every sensation amplified by her excitement. The cotton panties sliding down her legs, the bra straps sliding down her arms. She ran her fingers through her hair, luxuriating in the light tug that created, then stepped into a hot shower. The water rushed over her, warming her skin and caressing it as it flowed. She whimpered a bit at the sensation, tightening her body and relishing the feeling. She was already so ready for him, needing him to touch her, to feel how wet she had become and not just from the shower. She was not allowed to touch herself without permission, so relief was not possible. It was simply an ache as she washed off the day, gasping slightly as she washed her most intimate bits. Her nipples were erect, even in the scalding water and her body felt alight with electricity.

She dried herself off, then took her time moisturizing her body with his favorite lotion, smelling of frankincense and myrrh. She chose his favorite piece of black lingerie, hoping to lure him into funishment territory even though she knew she had earned more. It was a lacy black piece that hugged her full breasts tight, sheer to allow viewing pleasure. It covered her torso in the same patterned black lace, then spread at her pelvis, wrapping around her thighs and leaving her bottom and more sensitive things completely exposed. She paired this with thigh high fishnets and connected them to the garter of the piece, finalizing the look with patent leather stilettos. She noticed time was running short, and quickly put on the makeup he liked best, dark eye makeup she knew he would delight in smearing and a lipstick that would not budge through the night. He loved her lips bright, crimson red. She dried her hair and was ready with five minutes to spare. The process of getting ready had cooled her body just a bit, but as she knelt in front of the front door, hands placed palm up on her thighs, she had time to think once more of what was coming. He was cross with her, there was no doubt. But he also delighted in her pleasure and she had dressed to please him. Sir was going to claim every inch of her body with his own tonight, and that thought flushed her with pleasure and brought the throb between her thighs roaring back to life.

His key in the door stole her breath from her and she looked down as he came in, trying to hide her excitement and giving him the most submissive of postures. He growled low in his throat, then said, “Ah, so submissive for me now are we? So quiet. What happened to that sharp tongue? Look at me, let me see that beautiful face, little hellion.”

She looked up at him immediately, trying to give him innocent eyes and knowing she was failing. “What do you have to say for yourself, my lovely one?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She looked at him pleadingly as she said it, but he only smiled wickedly.”Oh, not yet you aren’t. But you will be. Stand up and let me look at you.”

Her face flushed red as she did so. After years of being with Sir, he still affected her so deeply. She loved the way he looked at her as he took her in, lingering on each of his favorite places. He looked at her with a mixture of hunger and delight, letting the fire show in his eyes. He always made her feel so vulnerable, yet so safe. “Good girl,” He said. “You look stunning, and I see you chose favorites of mine. That won't save you tonight, sweetheart. I can’t wait to remind you who you belong to. Now kneel and open your mouth. Show Sir why he loves that tongue you mentioned.”

She loved pleasing him and smiled up at him as she kneeled. He unbuckled his belt and pulled himself out before her, sending a shock of pleasure through her body, bringing back all the memories of them together and all the possibilities. He was hard already for her, and hot. She gripped him with her hand, watching him as he tossed his head back and groaned, “Yes, baby.” She licked one hot, long stroke up his shaft and lingered at the tip, teasing him despite her better judgement. This earned her a frustrated growl. “Stop playing with me, little hellion. Give me that mouth.” She opened as wide as she could, lowering her wet mouth over him as far as she could, feeling him in the back of her throat. He pushed her hands away and said, “I said mouth, baby. Your mouth is mine.” With that, he gripped her hair, pushing it away from her face and began to thrust himself in and out of her mouth as if it were other, lower parts of her. She whimpered as he did this, feeling her wetness begin to drench her thighs and her pearl tongue throbbing, crying out to be touched. She had to place her hands under her bottom and sit on them so that she would not touch herself. Doing so before being given permission would not bode well for her. He stroked in and out of her, then thrust as deep as he could fit, cutting off her access to air with the length of him. He held her there, looking down at her possessively. “Your mouth is mine,” he repeated. “Mine to please myself with. Your tongue is meant to please me. You belong to me.” She nodded, unable to breathe or speak and began to feel her body begging for air. She looked at him pleadingly, fighting her body’s urge to panic as he kept her from getting air around him. Just as she was going to give him the signal to ease up, he pulled out of her throat, slowly removing himself, wet and hard, from her mouth. She gasped as he did so, and he laughed a deep, rumbling sound, thick with pleasure. “Yes, little hellion. I do love that tongue. But all of you belongs to me. Stand up and let Sir remind you.”

She stood, shaky with need, and faced her Sir, letting the inferno of desire she felt raging in her fill her face as she met his eyes. He moved against her, rubbing himself against her bare wetness, drawing a cry from her lips. Sir grabbed her by the throat and kissed her deeply, tongue exploring her mouth as she ached for him to explore other parts of her body. She began to tremble with that desire, moaning for him as he kissed her. He broke the kiss suddenly, grabbing her and spinning her away from him and to face their dining table. “Elbows on the table and spread your legs. Let me see what is mine spread in front of me.”

She followed his directive with a mixture of excitement and fear running through her. Her heart was pounding now in her chest, and she heard him remove his belt from its loops. He massaged her bottom, squeezing firmly and gripping the softness there. She whimpered for him as he squeezed hard enough to bruise and he released his grip. “You asked for my attention, lovely one. But you acted out to get it. Who do you belong to?” He asked it and before she could answer, she felt the sweet sting of his belt licking across her backside. There was a loud, satisfying snap that accompanied the sensation and rang in her ears as she cried out. “You, Sir!”

“Hmm,” he said gruffly. “I’m not convinced you mean it, my lovely one.” He flicked his belt in a stinging line across the other ass cheek, and she could feel it hot and welting on both sides. She cried out again, squirming with pain, but also with pleasure. This was part of their dance, and she revelled in it. “I do, Sir! I do! Please!” She yelped it, tears free flowing in hot streams down her cheeks. He said nothing this time, only gave her another lashing followed by another, and another. Her backside was now fully inflamed and with each strike, she cried out, begging him to believe she had learned her lesson, crying and yet filled with adrenaline to the point of ecstasy. Finally, she heard the belt drop to the floor. He pulled her up by her hair and pressed his hardness against her stinging bottom. He pulled her hair aside and kissed her neck, then her shoulder, then her cheek and she turned to meet his lips with hers, moaning as he ground himself against her. He groaned his need into her mouth and she met his need with her own. Her whole body was now quaking with the desire he had stoked into an inferno.

He pulled back from the kiss and looked her in the eyes as he whispered, “Mine.” With that he turned her to face him, lifted her onto the table and shoved himself hot and throbbing into her. He was sheathed in her as far as he could go and she danced for him with him there, looking up at him as she bucked and moaned and tightened around him. She cried out wordlessly at first as he began to work himself in and out of her, thrusting hard and deep and slow. She felt him filling her up to the end of her and it was too much, she spilled her orgasm over him in a flood and as she did so, cried out “Thank you Sir! Thank you!” He growled deep and began plunging into her harder and fast, his breath hitching as he said, “Mine. You are mine. All mine. You belong to Sir. Don’t fucking forget it.” She felt his body tense and the knowledge that it was her body that was pleasing him, her that he was claiming as his, and that she belonged to him completely, sent her over the edge again. Her center clamped down on him, drawing him as close to her and deep into her as he could be, and it was there that he spilled his pleasure. He gripped her thighs bruisingly as he came, moaning his satisfaction loudly and then dipping his mouth to her breast and marking her there, digging teeth in and sucking as he moved. She screamed, climaxing once again for him as he rode her, thrashing beneath him and gripping his head tight against her until the waves of pleasure calmed.

He lifted his head to look at her as he pulled out of her wetness. He watched her with delight as she gasped and shivered with every inch he moved. When he slipped the last inch out of her, she smiled, satisfied, and then winced as she moved to sit up. Her bottom was hurting in earnest now, and would be for some time. He laughed, reading her expression. “Lesson learned, baby?” She smiled up at him happily as she said, “Yes, Sir. Lesson very much learned.”

fiction
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About the Creator

Tori Storie

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