There're no bugs in Fantasy Land...
I suppose it started with the tent. We helped organize and run a big outdoor party, and my Master, crafty-type that he is, built us the tent.
All those big iron spikes he drove into the ground must have caught his imagination.
So here I am. Back of the cottage, more or less totally alone in the entire surrounding countryside. Well out of range of the comforting yellow rectangles of light I could see if I could turn my head. I know my Master is somewhere around me, I can here him but I can't see. Each limb is tied to a stake stuck into the ground, placed farther apart than I would have believed. I am naked, stretched more or less to the limit, my back held in an arch against the ground, my fists clenched.
The grass tickles.
And He walks into my field of vission. He is silhoutted by the moon, impossibly tall, impossibly strong, impossible. He is holding something behind His back.
A singletail. A 7 foot long bullwhip, black from handle to tip, so well oiled the leather shimmers in the light. He cracks it inches from my face, and I know without Him telling me what it is about. He is punishing me. A million little failings come to mind -- failure to shine His boots properly, failure to stand still when He told me, failure to be silent when He teased me. For months he Has purred into my ear each time, voice full of increadible menace: "I'll punish you later, Pet."
And now, He is. He cracks the whip above me again, then brings it down upon my breasts, just the tip, stinging against my nipple. My breath comes short and I writhe, in pleasure or away, I'm not sure. My skin breaks out in goosepimples, my nipples hard. He pulls the whip across my skin, and as I quiver he says "You shine in the moonlight, Pet." He cracks the whip again.
For a few minutes He hits me on the nipples with the hempbraid end of the whip, till I arch into it, afraid each time that He will hit me harder, but unable to stop my body wanting the touch. Suddenly the whip is brought up high, and I try to shrink into the ground to avoid it. My Master brings it down all at once -- and cracks it harmlessly over my head. I jump anyhow.
I look up to see my master stripping His tight black t-shirt from His body. I am too mesmerized by the moon on His clavicals to realize that His boots and pants have followed, till suddenly He kneels above me, offering or forcing or asking or commanding that I suck His cock. Ever the obedient pet, I slip my lips around the head and flick my tongue against the triangle under the head of His cock, quite the senitive spot. My Master's breathing becomes somewhat impaired, probably because I am sucking the rest of His cock into my mouth, swiveling my head and running my tongue back and forth beneath the shaft. I relax my throat and move my head upward, pushing until my lips touch the hair by His stomach, squeezingg my throat open and shut around the head of His cock. I chocke a little, and pull back, but my Master pulls out of my mouth and grabs hair, bringing my head up for a fierce kiss. Our teetch clack. It's that fierce.
He bites my earlobe, and the place where my neck meets my shoulder. Hard. Possesively. He lays kisses and bites all down my breasts and stomach, as if He is marking His ownership of me. He moves his mouth to my pussy, sucking my clitoris, licking and teasing till I try to grind my pelvis into His face, approaching orgasm.
Of course. Of course He pulls away, moves up and kisses me hard again and I can smell myself on His lips and chin, and then suddenly I feel the head of His cock pushing against my vulva, and I want it so so, bad. I want to feel Him inside of me more than anything. Of course. Of course He teases me, pushing that hard head in just a little, pulling it out again, a little bit, a little bit, till I'm squirming against Him as much as I can, trying to pull the stakes out of the ground to get at Him. Then all at once He pushes into me, and it's hot and sublime and I push back towards him. He pulls away again and then enters me again, pausing for a moment. I tense my vaginal muscles around Him and he gasps and pushes further into me, pulling in and out of the tightness, and we rock together, and we speed up, and I realize that I'm moaning and that I'm getting louder, but hell, so is He, and suddenly I'm begging my Master to let me come. Of course. He stops. I nearly die.
But then he thrusts back into me and growls into my ear "Come for me, Pet", and that's all I need, I push back once more onto His hard cock and I'm gone. He follows, with and oath and and obscenity, and lowers himself onto me, kissing my mouth and neck and face. He says "That was wonderful, Pet"
It's lovely. It's heavenly.
He slides gently out of me, kisses me one more time, and stands up. And walks away.
And I'm getting slightly chilly, out here in the open air. The grass tickles, but the stars are nice.
I wonder if He's coming back anytime soon.
PS, Over 400 site hits, woohoo!
All those big iron spikes he drove into the ground must have caught his imagination.
So here I am. Back of the cottage, more or less totally alone in the entire surrounding countryside. Well out of range of the comforting yellow rectangles of light I could see if I could turn my head. I know my Master is somewhere around me, I can here him but I can't see. Each limb is tied to a stake stuck into the ground, placed farther apart than I would have believed. I am naked, stretched more or less to the limit, my back held in an arch against the ground, my fists clenched.
The grass tickles.
And He walks into my field of vission. He is silhoutted by the moon, impossibly tall, impossibly strong, impossible. He is holding something behind His back.
A singletail. A 7 foot long bullwhip, black from handle to tip, so well oiled the leather shimmers in the light. He cracks it inches from my face, and I know without Him telling me what it is about. He is punishing me. A million little failings come to mind -- failure to shine His boots properly, failure to stand still when He told me, failure to be silent when He teased me. For months he Has purred into my ear each time, voice full of increadible menace: "I'll punish you later, Pet."
And now, He is. He cracks the whip above me again, then brings it down upon my breasts, just the tip, stinging against my nipple. My breath comes short and I writhe, in pleasure or away, I'm not sure. My skin breaks out in goosepimples, my nipples hard. He pulls the whip across my skin, and as I quiver he says "You shine in the moonlight, Pet." He cracks the whip again.
For a few minutes He hits me on the nipples with the hempbraid end of the whip, till I arch into it, afraid each time that He will hit me harder, but unable to stop my body wanting the touch. Suddenly the whip is brought up high, and I try to shrink into the ground to avoid it. My Master brings it down all at once -- and cracks it harmlessly over my head. I jump anyhow.
I look up to see my master stripping His tight black t-shirt from His body. I am too mesmerized by the moon on His clavicals to realize that His boots and pants have followed, till suddenly He kneels above me, offering or forcing or asking or commanding that I suck His cock. Ever the obedient pet, I slip my lips around the head and flick my tongue against the triangle under the head of His cock, quite the senitive spot. My Master's breathing becomes somewhat impaired, probably because I am sucking the rest of His cock into my mouth, swiveling my head and running my tongue back and forth beneath the shaft. I relax my throat and move my head upward, pushing until my lips touch the hair by His stomach, squeezingg my throat open and shut around the head of His cock. I chocke a little, and pull back, but my Master pulls out of my mouth and grabs hair, bringing my head up for a fierce kiss. Our teetch clack. It's that fierce.
He bites my earlobe, and the place where my neck meets my shoulder. Hard. Possesively. He lays kisses and bites all down my breasts and stomach, as if He is marking His ownership of me. He moves his mouth to my pussy, sucking my clitoris, licking and teasing till I try to grind my pelvis into His face, approaching orgasm.
Of course. Of course He pulls away, moves up and kisses me hard again and I can smell myself on His lips and chin, and then suddenly I feel the head of His cock pushing against my vulva, and I want it so so, bad. I want to feel Him inside of me more than anything. Of course. Of course He teases me, pushing that hard head in just a little, pulling it out again, a little bit, a little bit, till I'm squirming against Him as much as I can, trying to pull the stakes out of the ground to get at Him. Then all at once He pushes into me, and it's hot and sublime and I push back towards him. He pulls away again and then enters me again, pausing for a moment. I tense my vaginal muscles around Him and he gasps and pushes further into me, pulling in and out of the tightness, and we rock together, and we speed up, and I realize that I'm moaning and that I'm getting louder, but hell, so is He, and suddenly I'm begging my Master to let me come. Of course. He stops. I nearly die.
But then he thrusts back into me and growls into my ear "Come for me, Pet", and that's all I need, I push back once more onto His hard cock and I'm gone. He follows, with and oath and and obscenity, and lowers himself onto me, kissing my mouth and neck and face. He says "That was wonderful, Pet"
It's lovely. It's heavenly.
He slides gently out of me, kisses me one more time, and stands up. And walks away.
And I'm getting slightly chilly, out here in the open air. The grass tickles, but the stars are nice.
I wonder if He's coming back anytime soon.
PS, Over 400 site hits, woohoo!
posted by Switch at 1:16 AM
1 Comments:
i still plan on doing that... well, maybe minus the bullwhip, but still. Thank you for your wonderful imagination, Pet... still gets me hard, reading it now.
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