|Widow, Corset, Ropes, Submission|
|by Margaret M|
|© Copyright 2012 - Margaret M - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: F/f; D/s; bond; collar; cuffs; naked; shave; tease; bdsm; spank; toys; insert; oral; mast; denial; true; cons; X||
|Widow, Corset, Ropes, Submission Part 6: Frustration x 10 Margaret M F/f; D/s; bond; collar; cuffs; naked; shave; tease; bdsm; spank; toys; insert; oral; mast; denial; true; cons; X|
|continued from part 5
Part 6: Frustration x 10
Slowly Sheila began to relax and after opening her legs, releasing the pressure on the sides of my face, she gently began to stroke my hair. I didn’t know what to do so I kept kissing and licking her puss. When she told me to stop she held my face against her puss (gently) and while (we) rested I was taking in her scent, and feeling her wetness on my lips, nose, chin and cheeks. In that brief instant I felt happy. Happy that I had pleased her and happy to serve her.
Pushing me away I remained kneeling when she got up from the couch and left me for a few moments. When she returned she had brought with her a wash cloth and used the warm damp cloth to clean my face. With my eyes closed I sat as still as I could and when she took my face in her hands and kissed me I melted. Her tongue probed my mouth and played with my tongue. She even sucked my tongue into her mouth and kept me a prisoner by biting (not too hard but not too gently) my tongue keeping me in this weird eternal kiss I could do nothing to avoid and which I didn’t want to get away from.
After kissing my face and neck and nibbling my ear lobes she told me lean back on my heels and, taking keys from the table next to the couch, unlocked my wrists from the collar and each other. Telling me to “stay” I let my arms fall to my sides and, to be honest, it felt wonderful being able to finally straighten my arms.
Leaving me I heard her open one of her closet doors and after some rustling sounds she came and stood behind me. Reaching over my head she told me to open my mouth and as I did I could see the ring gag she was going to use. I was familiar with ring gags as this is one of Jerry’s favorites to use on me (very big smile) and after carefully placing behind my teeth and pulling the straps fairly tightly she picked up one of the locks to secure it. Stepping to my left side she bent down slightly and attached a leash to the ring on the front of my collar. With a downward jerking of the leash she told me to get on my hands and knees, which I immediately did, and then told me to “come along slave” as she started walking towards the hallway forcing me to crawl after her.
Almost instantly I began to drool and with my mouth kept open I could not stop it from dribbling down onto the floor as I tried to keep up with her. Her pace was not very fast but on my hands and knees it felt like she was running.
After we passed two doors in the hallway she opened the third to her bedroom and when we reached the foot of the bed she stopped and told me to stay. Dropping the leash she went to one of the closets and when she returned she locked two ankle straps (they looked as though they were a very good match for the straps on my wrists) and then picked up the leash and had me crawl to the side of the bed. Dropping the leash again she told me to get up and lie in the center of the bed.
When I thought I was in position she had me scooch a bit until she was satisfied with my placement on the bed.
Moving to the corner of the bed on my right she took my wrist and locked the strap to another strap (that I hadn’t noticed) that was somehow affixed to the corner of the bed. Then, walking around to the other side of the bed she took my left wrist and locking it like my right wrist she began to adjust the length of the straps attached to the bed until my arms were stretched rather tautly.
Walking to the foot of the bed she attached my ankle straps as she had done with my wrists and when she adjusted these (bed) straps my legs were held open quite wide and I was very securely placed in a spread-eagle that left me totally exposed and vulnerable.
When she got on the bed and sat on my tummy with her knees by my ribs I looked at her and began moaning and with very garbled speech pleaded with her to touch me.
Sheila looked at me, took my nipples between her fingers and began to twist them until it became very painful and I began to thrash around as much as the straps would allow (which wasn’t much, especially with her sitting on me).
She told me that if I wanted to “cum” (her word) I had to beg her Mistress. Instantly I began begging but “Mistress” kept saying that she couldn’t understand a word I was saying and, after finally letting go of my nipples, she slapped my breasts (something I had never before experienced) and then managed to turn herself around so that she was still straddling me but now facing my feet.
Now my new torture began as her fingers started to play with my puss. Gently moving up and down my labia she caressed and rubbed my puss until I was literally beginning to drip.
Without any let up I continued to my garbled attempt to ask for permission the “cum”
Of course the only words Mistress claimed to hear were a long series of mangled screams and when she thought I was as close to orgasm as she wanted, she stopped!
Still sitting on my belly she laughed and asked her squirming, wriggling desperate slave if (I) wanted to cum. Still pathetically trying to beg her she again laughed and this time got off me and knelt between my legs. Looking down at me she said she would love to lick her slave’s puss and immediately I began to nod and yell YES YES YES (which actually came out sounding something like YEGHH YEGHS YEGCHS).
“Well”, she said after patting my puss a few times, “I can’t possibly put my mouth and tongue on my slave’s hairy bush, do you want me to shave you so I can?”
In my mind I was yelling no! I didn’t want “to be shaved”. No! No way!
But when she put her hand back on my puss I nodded yes and (again) mumbled my response past the gag. Yes, do it, I thought, anything so that I can orgasm!
Getting off the bed she grabbed the leash, that was still attached to my collar, stretched tight and somehow tied it the head board, making it a bit more difficult to raise my head to see what she was up to.
With an eerily evil grin she laughed, patted my puss, told me not to go anywhere and left the room.
Alone, stretched out and aching for sexual release I could feel my heart pounding as I thought about what she was going to do me. My nipples were still hard, my puss was dripping and, wishing she had not stopped touching me and, despite my not wanting her to shave me, I prayed for her to return, do it and let me “cum”.
Carrying a bowl of water, a cloth, some sort of lotion, and a razor (!) she knelt between my legs and told me to be still.
Fearing the worst (that she might cut me) I stayed as motionless as I could. She wet the cloth in the warm water and laid it over my puss. Just this small touch made me fidget but she again warned me to be still. After a minute or so she removed the cloth and applied the lotion (a cream of some sort) and rubbing it on me to make it foam caused me to moan as my body involuntarily began to move to the rhythm of her touch.
With each small stroke I imagined what my puss looked like. No hair, just like Mistress. Embarrassed I felt a rush go over my body. My nipples felt as though they were throbbing and it was becoming difficult not to move. But my growing fear as the razor moved closer to the inner part of my labia and near my clit made me freeze, dead still.
Just a few more little strokes and you’ll be as smooth as a baby’s butt Mistress said and when she had finished and had washed away any residue of the soap she took a tube of yet another lotion and applied it to my bare puss.
As she applied the soothing cream I began to writhe and squirm and when she touched my clit I screamed and jerked and tried uselessly to push myself against her hand. She would play with me this way for several minutes. Touching me, applying more ointment, putting her fingers inside me. I became a babbling idiot. So close, so damn far. She just kept teasing me. Over and over. Sometimes reaching for my nipple with one hand while continuing her ministrations of my puss. Always stopping when I grunted and tried to tell her I was going to orgasm.
My mouth began to hurt from the pressure I was putting on the ring. Tears of frustration began to flow and no matter how much I hurt I didn’t want her to stop. My distress of being denied took control of me. Each time I came close she stopped and watched me perform this dance for her. Time after time she brought me up and as sudden as a bolt of lightening stopped. Splayed out so tightly I could do nothing to ease my need, I tried squeezing every muscle I had but to no avail. It was as though I was a wind up toy whose spring was turned time and again but never unwound all the way.
I have no idea when she had actually stopped touching me. My eyes were shut tight and my body ached. My mouth was dry, my nipples and puss and clit were super sensitive and when she leaned over me and kissed my open mouth and licked my lips I thought that, finally, she would let me “cum”. Instead, she picked up all the shaving things, got off the bed and left me.
Abandoned, I began to cry from frustration. I needed her to come back.
Again I have no idea how long it was until she returned but when she did the straps holding me spread on the bed were undone and carefully and painfully slow I brought my arms towards my sides and my legs together. Helping me to sit on the edge of the bed Sheila unlocked the gag and with some painful manipulation managed to get it out of my mouth. As I started to move my jaw to ease the pain my hands moved towards my puss and breasts but I was immediately chastised by Mistress not to touch myself which was accompanied and emphasized by a sharp slap to my upper thigh.
Wanting not to be struck again I kept my hands at my sides and trembling with fear and frustration I waited silently for her next command.
Kneeling down in front of me Sheila locked a short chain to my ankle cuffs and then used another to lock my wrists together in front of me. Briefly showing me a small red ball gag she told me to open and once the straps were pulled tight locked the gag too.
The ball was, as I said, fairly small so it would not be difficult to make myself understood if I chose to speak (which I declined to do as I didn’t want to be slapped again) and, compared to the ring gag was much more comfortable. Of course I knew I would begin to drool but that would be better than having my mouth kept as wide open as it was before.
Grasping the leash Mistress pulled me to my feet and led me to the bathroom down the hall. The hobbling chain wasn’t too bad (maybe 12” long) and with my hands in front of me it was easy to follow her.
In the bathroom she had left the cloth she used to shave me as well as several pair of her panties and bras in the sink. Telling me to “carefully” wash and hang each one on the rod in the tub she (playfully) slapped my rear and as she left she warned me not to touch myself and said I was to be in the living room, kneeling, in fifteen minutes.
Although my wrists were locked together it was not too difficult to wash her panties and bras but not knowing how long I was taking caused me to be very concerned. I didn’t know what punishment I would endure if I was late so I tried to accomplish the task as quickly as possible. It also took considerable effort not to touch myself!
Having hung up each item as neatly as I could I rushed to the living room and saw Mistress sitting on the couch reading a book. I hurried to kneel by her feet, put my hands behind my head, lowered my face so that I would not be looking directly at her (this is a position we talked about during our many telephone conversations) and waited for her to acknowledge her slave.
As she continued reading I was still feeling how sensitive my nipples and puss were but, again, even though I thought of disobeying I sat as still as I could both regretting and loving my decision to serve her.
I was kind of drifting off somewhere when she woke me from my day dreams by telling me to stand up. As I stood I had begun to bring my hands in front of me but she immediately slapped them and told me to keep them behind my head.
Standing in front of her I felt more naked and vulnerable than ever before.
Using a rather soft tone of voice Mistress told me to step forward so that my legs would straddle hers. Inching forward I did the best I could and though the hobble kept my feet fairly close together I managed to get mine over hers and when she reached out and put her fingers in my puss I nearly collapsed!
Forgetting all the warnings and instructions I immediately began to “ride her fingers”, but just as I felt my orgasm coming she took her fingers out of my puss! “Didn’t I tell you to ask permission”?
With a great deal of effort to control myself I told her, in somewhat garbled speech caused by both the gag and the sudden extraction of her fingers, I was sorry and begged her to let me cum.
Like a dagger into my heart she told me no, her slave disobeyed and had to be punished first.
Grabbing my leash I was led over to her desk by the window and forced to stand at one end (thank goodness the curtains were drawn!). Using my leash she pulled me forward making me bend on to the desk top and tied the leash off to one of the desk’s legs at the far end. From a desk draw she took out some short pieces of rope and tied my ankles to the legs of desk which kept my legs open the foot or so allowed by the hobble chain while denying any opportunity to try to bring my legs together.
Using two more ropes she tied one around my waist and then used the second rope to pull my wrists further down behind my head and tied its other end to the waist rope. I was in a most compromising position but also a very uncomfortable and somewhat painful one. With my hands pulled back like that I had to rest most of my weight on my breasts and the small backward arch I was in was almost immediately causing some pain.
Trying to concentrate on holding this position in order to lessen the pain that was building I lost track of where she was until I felt her hands on my rear. She began to massage my cheeks and as she did she also was pulling my cheeks apart so that my rear entrance and puss were exposed. I twisted and writhed as she continued to open and close my cheeks and when she began to touch me with her fingers I couldn’t hold back any longer and renewed my begging but, again, she stopped and left me bound on the desk.
As she walked away and down the hallway toward the bedroom all I could think about were her fingers touching me and the pain that was continuing to build from the position I was in. I tried to ease the pain by lifting my head a bit but that did nothing to help. If anything it made the pain worse and also made my other “need” increase as well.
It’s still boggles my mind how pain (for me) is so closely related to pleasure?
When she returned she again stood behind and asked if I was ready for my punishment. I said yes as best I could and braced myself for what I was sure was going to be a spanking.
First thing she did was to lightly put her hand on my rear and move her palm over my cheeks while telling me that I was going to be punished for taking too long to clean her panties and for making her decide when she had to stop seconds before I would have cum. Telling me that a slave must always obey or face the consequences of disobedience and, when she said that the first stroke of her hand landed and the sting was very real. Two more strokes and I could already feel heat building in my cheek and even though I tried to move my rear away there was no chance of doing so.
More strokes followed and the pain was getting worse. As I said before, Jerry introduced me to spanking (and I love when he does spank me) but what he does is nothing like this!
My legs buckled and my chest now bore the brunt of my weight. I began to beg her to stop but this (in my mind) only caused her to speed up the pace. I didn’t even know which cheek she was going to hit next. She had stopped switching between each stroke and would hit my left cheek two or three times and then my right once or twice, and so on. All I knew was that I needed her to stop but for some reason that I can’t explain I refused to use my safe word.
Quite unexpectedly the spanking stopped and she started gently stroking my cheeks. Did she read my mind? Does she know how close I was to using my safe word?
At that moment it didn’t matter if she were psychic or a witch with the ability to read minds, she had stopped and her touch now felt like a caress and I simply let out an appreciative moan.
Once more I was off in that special place I some times go to when I’m tied and/or in pain but came out of my short lived revelry when she said she had another surprise for me started to put some lubrication in my rear while telling me that she loved the color of my ass (her word, not mine, I’m sorry but I do have problems with certain words, maybe it’s from my upbringing or maybe in certain ways I’m still a prude, which I suppose is hard to believe based on the things I’ve done these past few years, but yes, for some reason I do have trouble saying and even writing certain words <though reading them is okay <laughing>>.
Anyway, all that passed as her fingers began to massage my rear from the “inside” and from time to time around its entrance. Oh my how good that felt!
When a very familiar object, an anal plug, began working its way into me I thought that heaven would be just around the corner. I was already climbing my sexual mountain from her playing with my rear and the plug would, I knew, help me reach my goal.
This time my grunts were approving what she was doing and as I wiggled and jiggled I let out a gasp of pleasure when it finally passed my sphincter. Then she took her hands away from my rear and walked away!
She left me literally hanging on the brink again. I began squeezing the plug but all that did was drive me mad with desire that I could not fulfill without touching my puss and clit. No matter how hard I tried it was useless. I was, so to speak, figuratively and literally left hanging.
By the time she returned and stood in front of me my legs had given up and I was exhausted from all my exertions. Lifting my face in her hands she asked if I wanted to cum and with renewed hope I nodded and, in what I thought to be very proper slave speak, said Yes Mistress please let your slave cum.
Laughing she told me that I was learning and after untying my hands and ankles helped me to stand (I instantly put my hands behind my head) and followed the pull of my leash while loving the movement of the plug inside me with every step I took.
Back in the bedroom I found myself spread-eagled on the bed again with Mistress kneeling by my side. Reaching down to my puss she began to play with me by gently touching my labia and then brushing ever so lightly over my clit. Leaning forward she kissed and licked my nipple as she continued tormenting my puss. It took all of two or three seconds for me to start moaning groaning and begging again but all that accomplished was to set me up for yet another fall from heaven when she stopped touching me. Leaning over she kissed my gagged mouth and got off the bed.
Taking a comforter from one of the closets she covered me up and told me to get some rest. Turning out the light she left the bedroom.
I screamed at her, I screamed for her, my breasts and nipples were on fire, my puss wet and throbbing and my rear teasing me with its own urgency to be played with. I began to cry, I screamed for her, I cursed her, I damned her, I needed her to let me cum.
story continued in part 7: A Respite of Sorts
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