I Enjoy Being a Domme
“You’re so sexy,” he said, reclining on the couch, “I brought you something else.”
“Another present? Where is it?!”
He reached into a bag and pulled out a paddle.
I know what you’re thinking, and I was about to get excited, but then I looked at the thing. It was a novelty paddle. Thin balsa wood or something. Shaped like a paddle, but that’s where it ended. The kind that you buy for birthday parties. I’m serious! It even came wrapped in cellophane with a marker so “…your friends can leave their birthday wishes.”
“Oh, thank you!”
“I’d like to spank you with it!”
“Sure. But I have to do something first.”
I unwrapped the paddle and, with the marker, wrote “SLAP!” across the silly thing.
“Let’s go in here.”
I walked into the bathroom and stood in front of the full-length mirror. The sink was behind me and I could see the reflection of my ass in it. I put my hands up high on the wall and bent at the waist, arching my back and jutting my ass out.
He spanked me, too softly, too slowly. I squirmed with each slap. I think the turn-on was how red my ass got and that I could look at the marks with him. I was careful to make sure he didn’t spank me any harder. I have never gotten marked up by The Gentleman and I don’t intend to.
When he’d finished I declared it my turn.
But I didn’t want him watching.
I took him back to the couch and told him to undress. He did, and knelt facing the back of the couch. I tied a scarf around his eyes and told him not to move as I went for my flogger and baby oil.
“This is so hot! You are so sexy! I LOVE IT!”
I came back to the couch and took his wrists, spreading them along the back of it. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “No more talking. Relax. You can do that.”
He nodded, turning his head so it rested on the couch.
I touched his shoulders and back lightly with my fingernails. He sucked in his breath as I trailed my way down to his ass. I kept my hands there, letting them warm his buttocks. He sighed, then made as if to speak.
“Shht. No talking unless you want me to stop.”
SLAP.
Massage.
SLAP.
Massage.
Faster and harder as I warmed up his cheeks and he leaned into my strikes, lifting his head and humming low.
I took the flogger and let it thwunk onto his upper back, pulling it down, snakelike. Again.
He exhaled shakily, ready for more.
I stood up, feet wide and let loose on his left cheek, then the right. Backhand. Forehand. Thank God for those childhood tennis lessons. I tensed my ass and stomach, took aim and exhaled on the downstroke. Adjusted my weight and threw it into the next one. I looked at his face.
He was blindfolded, but I knew his eyes were closed. A slight smile on his lips, parted slightly told me he was in the right place. I hesitated and he stayed like that. No apprehension of what would come, no fear, no goddamn talking. Call it subspace, floating, endorphin high, whatever. His mind was detached from his body and he was feeling no pain, only pleasure. I beat him again.
Then, abruptly, I stopped. I wouldn’t leave marks. And I wanted to leave him wanting more. I stood and took off my bra. Reaching for the oil, I poured some into my palm and spread it over my torso. He whimpered, coming around, turning his head. I stepped forward and put my hand on his back.
I leaned over him on the couch and pressed my naked front to his naked back, sliding slowly up and down. I whispered in his ear,
“Did you like that?”
“Yes,” he said, barely audibly.
“Do you like this?”
He gulped, nodding his head.
I reached around and took his cock in my oiled hand. He nearly jumped at the unexpected sensation. I stroked his shaft and rolled my thumb over the head as I traveled down again. Very quickly his cock stiffened more, seized and shot its load, oozing cum down over my thumb and index finger.
I silently congratulated myself for having thought to put a towel onto the couch.
“That’s it, baby,” I whispered, “Cum on my hand.”
I love being a domme. Getting paid for it is just icing on the cake.
posted by Cara @ 5:13 PM
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