Strip.

I want you to make me strip for you.

Sitting on the bed as I stand in the middle of your bedroom, I want to quail under your impassive gaze and the menacing undertone of your calm one word command: "Strip." I want to feel your eyes on me as a slowly remove every last piece of clothing and stand before you in nothing but my high heeled shoes, naked and exposed, on display for you.

I want you make me stand there until I am uncomfortable with the silence before you tell me to get on my knees. This is when you stand up and walk over to me, circling around slowly to get the view from every angle before stopping in front of me and ordering me to get your cock out and suck you. I am dying to fell your hands in my hair. You never touch me at all.

You make me stop and stand up, make me undress you, still without touching me. Then you make me walk over to the bed. All our toys are over there. You make me put the ball gag in, and then the butt plug, and then you make me handcuff my hands behind my back, all while you stand across the room watching me. You tell me to get on my knees on the bed facing away from you, face in the mattress, ass in the air. Make me stay like that for a while, perfectly still, waiting there in the total silence to make it clear that none of this is for me and I am only here for your pleasure.

Only then do you condescend to come over and fuck me.

You fuck me hard and then come all over my ass and back. When you are finished you remind me not to move, and then ignore me while you get dressed, go the the kitchen to make some tea (for you not me), sit down and read a book.

Much later you come back to me. Standing beside the bed you pull my head up by my hair and take the ball gag out and fuck my mouth just as hard as you fucked my pussy earlier, holding my head up by my hair and making me choke on you, with tears running down my face. I want you to make me look up at you the whole time, until you come all over my face and chest making the front of me match the back.

Quiet

I was talking too much. I always talk too much when I'm nervous. And there are few things more nerve racking than being helpless with your arms cuffed to the door over your head, with your back to the room and a man standing behind you who you can't see, especially when you have no idea what it is he has planned. So I was nervous and I was talking too much, and repeatedly being told to shut my whore mouth didn't seem to be having any effect. What alternative did he have but to go and get the ball gag?

It wasn't needed for very long. The spanking I endured left my throat raw from screaming into the ball gag and my body so weak and exhausted that I crumbled to my knees as soon as the cuffs came off my wrists. I didn't say a word. I couldn't, what with the cock deep in my throat as he savagely fucked my mouth as soon as the gag was out.

Surprise

I wrote this story as a birthday gift for trouble. In truth I wrote him three stories, and then I divided them each into 16 short e-mails, illustrated each with a photograph of me depicting that part of the story, and e-mailed them to him at half hour intervals for an entire day. I don't think he got a lot of work done that day. This one was my favorite, and he was good enough to tell me I could share it with you.


She paced back and forth across the house, full of nervous energy. It seemed as though she'd been waiting for hours. In point of fact, she had been - he'd first mentioned it when he'd woken her that morning. She closed her eyes, remembering his hand on her hip, gently turning her on her back, softly kissing her neck until she opened her eyes. "I have something very special planned for tonight," he'd said, his fingers sliding down between her legs...

She shook her head to try and rid herself of the image. "No touching yourself," he'd warned when he left, and she had promised she wouldn't. Sitting round reliving that morning and the way he held her arms down and looked in her eyes while he fucked her wouldn't do at all if she was to keep it. She paced around some more, her heels sounding more and more impatient with each passing moment. Not knowing what it was he had planned, she'd dressed carefully: her black corset, garter belt with back seamed stockings, ludicrously high ankle strap heels, no knickers - nothing that would get in the way or couldn't be easily removed with her hands tied behind her back or cuffed to the bed frame.

The sun was just starting to go down when her phone rang. "Hi babe," he said when she answered. "I have some bad news. Something's come up and I'm not going to be able to make it tonight. The surprise is just going to have to wait." She did her best not to sound too disappointed. All that waiting for nothing.


She put the phone down and sighed. With him not coming home there was no point keeping her outfit on, and her feet were getting sore from all the stalking back and forth she'd been doing while she waited. She decided to have a bath before she went to bed. She stripped off her clothes while the water ran and piled her hair on top of her head, then grabbed her iPod to put on some music and slipped into the water.

The hot water felt good against her skin. She closed her eyes and sank deeper into the water trying to wash the disappointment away. She had been looking forward to tonight all day and now nothing would come of it. She wondered what his plan had been. So frustrating, not being able to touch herself all day. But now that the game was apparently over she could relax. She reached behind her for the waterproof vibrator she kept on the shelf.

Turning the vibrator on, she held it against her clit for a moment before pushing it inside her. Now she could go back and think about that morning, him on top of her, holding her down, fucking her in long strokes and telling her that he owned her, that she was his to command and do with as he pleased. She fucked herself slowly, her other hand tracing wet circles around her nipple.

Between being lost in thought and the music, she hadn't heard or the door open or noticed him standing and watching her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair in one hand to pull her upright and slapped her hard across the face with the other. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he asked her angrily.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

"I'll be the one asking the questions. What are you doing with that vibrator?"

"Well you said you weren't coming home!" she complained.

He slapped her again. "You think you can do as you like just because I'm not here?"

"You said you had something special planned and then you called and said you weren't coming home. What was I supposed to do?"

"What were you supposed to do?" he asked, slapping her again much harder. "You were supposed to follow my instructions. When I tell you not to touch yourself, you are not to fucking touch yourself until I tell you otherwise, is that clear?"

She scowled at him in answer.

"It's time you learned some respect," he said coldly, "and what happens to filthy sluts who can't follow simple instructions." He let go of her hair just long enough to pull his cock out and then grabbed her again and wrenched her forward. "Now open your fucking mouth."

He thrust his cock all the way into her throat before she had time to prepare for it and she gagged. He pulled out and held here there for just a moment, coughing and sputtering before he shoved his cock down her throat again. By the third time she was ready and took him all the way down to the base of his cock without choking. But he wasn't going to let her off that easily. He held her there with her face pressed up against him and didn't let her go until she started struggling for air. He released her only long enough for her to take a couple ragged breaths before ramming his cock into her mouth and holding her there again. By the time he'd finished fucking her throat she was exhausted from fighting to get air. His hand still gripping her hair, he pulled her forward over the edge of the bath.

She was half dragged and half fell out of the bath and onto the floor, splashing water all over the place.

"Turn round, on your knees," he ordered her as he reached for his belt. Still panting, she did as she was told and dragged herself onto her knees with her arms resting on the side of the bath. His belt came down hard against her upturned ass. She inhaled sharply, the pain was all the worse for her skin being wet. He struck her twice more before suddenly stopping. "No, not enough," he mumbled to himself as he left the room. He returned and knelt behind her for a moment to push her new purple butt plug into her ass. He paused for a moment to fondle her ass before getting up and resuming the beating with the belt. She could feel the butt plug being pushed deeper every time the belt struck her. 

He did not stop hitting her until her ass was was bright red and her skin was hot to the touch. "Spread yourself open for me," he said. She reached behind her and pulled her ass checks apart, chest resting on the edge of the bath. She could feel the heat coming off her raw skin. He pulled out the butt plug and tossed it in the water, then immediately shoved his cock all the way in her ass in one stroke making her scream in pain.

 "That's too fast!" she complained. He grabbed the back of her head and shoved her face into the water for a moment.

"You are not here to tell me what is or isn't too fast," he reminded her. "You are MY fucktoy, you filthy little slut, and I will fuck you any way I please and you will shut your whore mouth and take whatever I give you." He let go of her head and dug his fingers into her hips, fucking her savagely and ignoring her screams. He pounded her harder and harder until she could feel the bruises starting to bloom on her chest where her rib cage was slamming into the side of the bath. Just as she was about to beg him to please stop, she felt him explode, shooting his cum deep inside her aching, tight little ass.

She crumpled to the floor, back against the side of the bathtub, still wet from the bath. She looked up at him with makeup running down her face from when he'd shoved her head in the water.He was stand up looking around at the chaos and the mess of a girl shivering on the floor. "Now clean up this mess," he said, turning away. "And fix your face. We're going out."

Sore

I was sore. An entire day of sex will do that to you. And that's exactly what we'd done the day before - from the time he'd arrived in the morning until he went home that evening, he had fucked me in every conceivable way, only stopping long enough for me to catch my breath before he started on me again. We never left the room. I had been useless at dinner with friends later on, preoccupied with reliving the day and so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open. I was asleep that night before my head hit the pillow.

Now here we were again the very next day with me on my back and him on top of me, holding me down by the wrists, the flimsy lace thong I'd put on that morning pushed to the side to accommodate his cock slamming into my raw, aching pussy as if he were trying to split me in half. "It hurts..." I moaned.

His face darkened. "Oh it hurts, does it?" he asked me sarcastically. He pulled back from me, releasing my wrists and grabbing at my thong. I could hear the lace tearing as he pulled until he ripped them from my body and stuffed them hard into my open mouth to silence my complaints. His hands found my wrists again and he held me down and fucked me even harder than before while he looked me in the eye and reminded me that I was his slut, here for his pleasure, and he didn't care if I was sore, in fact I didn't even know what sore was.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on tight while he showed me.

Dinner Party Distraction

"I am at a dinner party tonight," read his email. "Polite middle class chat and all I can think of is fucking you with your hands tied behind your back and your knickers stuffed in your mouth." This followed on a conversation we'd had earlier in the day on the subject of ways to stop me complaining when tied up and at his mercy.

At home, alone, I finished my own dinner before heading into my bedroom and pulling out my camera, some rope and a lacy pair of panties.

A short time later I emailed him the results: me lying face down on the bed, nude but for a pair of black heels, hands behind my back and bound at the wrists, my head and shoulders twisted to look back at the camera, mouth stuffed with pink mesh and lace. "Sort of like this?" I wrote.

"OH FUCK" was the reply I woke up to the following morning.