Erotica: Her First Weekend by Jemima101

Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Playing with the packet of sugar, I tipped and twisted it until it split sugar all over the table. Grabbing a napkin, I tried to collect all the grains into my hand, then realised I had nowhere to put them. Attempting to be casual I  brushed my hand against my leg, but it was sticky with sweat. Rubbing harder I scattered them on the floor beneath my table. It was a greasy spoon. I hoped no one would notice, then caught myself for the thought: how snobby was that?

The group in the corner certainly wouldn’t notice, already started on their stag party, their voices loud their language and laughter a determined show of how good a time they were having. They were discussing the night before and their success or failure with various women. Apparently Geordie girls split into being right slags or dogs. It wasn’t easy to tell which group they had had the most success with.

Glancing at my phone, it was almost time. Your last text had said you would be here by four, I had arrived early, my stomach tight with excitement, the unfamiliar knickers sticking to my wet pussy. I wondered for a moment which group the stag do would put me in, but I was at least ten years too old, and while the thin white summer dress showed my breasts braless, emphasised my hips, I was outside their field of vision.

Then you entered and my vision narrowed,. You seemed to fill the room, dressed in a well-made suit you smiled at me and, smiling back, the churning did not cease, but the excitement grew.

“Well, are you ready?” You asked.

I could only nod, but that wasn’t enough, you always wanted to hear me speak, to say the words.

“I’m ready…Sir” that last was almost whispered. It seemed the right name, in the wrong place.

You took the seat opposite me.

“You don’t seem ready to me ”

I’m just nervous, and a little scared I suppose”

“Of what ?”

I thought before replying, knowing if you did not feel my answer was satisfactory I would simply have to keep talking.

“The pain, and not knowing what it will feel like.”  I tried to expand my thoughts, but it was so hard. You did this, questioning me when I wanted to dwell on the emotions, or honestly didn’t know the answers. Or at least believed I didn’t know, there is always a method to your sadism.

You laughed. Genuine amusement at my simple answers, and that I was afraid of pain, when I had begged for it.

We left the cafe and walked, you took my overnight bag off me without a word, swinging it over your shoulder. I had to hurry to keep up with your long strides, to hear what you were saying.

“If you know something has to happen, what it will involve, it seems foolish to fear it. “

Again I could only nod, our destination was in sight.

Perched on the table, I wondered if the smell of my pussy juices was as obvious to the others in the room as it was to me. I was wondering if the man in front of me would comment on it. Or the damp patch in my knickers as I had removed them. I had to resist the urge to reach out for my Master’s hand. It was enough he was here, we were here, he was not exactly the person to appeal to for comfort.

The metal clamp on my clit made me jump. Cold and pulling on the sensitive skin.

The man spoke, “You must remain still, it honestly won’t be that bad”

He was either lying or I was more sensitive than he was used to. It felt like a knife was cutting my whole clit open, not just a needle piercing the clit hood. I swore, and swore again, not from anger, but pure pain, pain that filled my whole body, then the strange, sickening feeling of the bar entering my flesh, and it was done, my clit was pierced as my Master wished, his sign of ownership.

I don’t remember leaving the shop, I do remember having to stop after only walking a few steps, dizzy, faint and overwhelmed by my orgasm, My clit felt huge, the bar rubbing it almost too much to bear. I leaned against the wall and felt wetness on my thighs, my whole body shuddering.

You stood next to me, your voice low and gentle

“Can you make it to the car”

“I nodded, not sure I could speak.

This time you did take my hand, and led me to the nearby car park. The bustle and traffic of a city limbering up for a Friday night dreamlike compared to the reality of what was between my legs, what had just been done to me.

As we pulled out of the carpark you ordered me to pull up my skirt, wanting to see my new decoration. I hesitated a moment, we were still crawling along busy city streets, then obeyed.
“Open your legs.” This time I moved without hesitation, each bump of the car, turn of the wheels seemed to go straight to my clit, I could feel another orgasm building, gasping I wondered if it was allowed. Then it was too late, and stopped at traffic light, the world passing by I came again, oblivious to anything except the throbbing and your voice

“Good girl”

We soon left the city behind, heading out to the remote farmhouse I had heard so much about but never seen. The details of rendering plaster and exposing beams, the difficulty of finding suitable window frames had been a part of both our lives, in those conversations that did not involve sex, pain and Domination. When you  had told me I would visit when the time was right, for a while I had misunderstood, thinking you meant when the work was  finished, but in fact you had meant when I was marked as yours.

I only had a chance to catch a glimpse of the dark wooden stairs before you ordered me to remove my dress, and stand on the third step. Naked I tried not to shake as you pushed back my outer lips and inspected the piercing. Knowing we had been warned in the shop to be gentle with it, but wanting, hoping, and fearing you would touch me.

Instead you ordered me to turn and bend.The cane must have been left ready in the hall. The first stroke cut across my thighs without any warning, I tried not to cry out, counting “one.”

Moving  from my thighs onto my arse, spreading the fire that started in my clit and was shooting through my whole body. At six I wondered if I could take any more, at seven I almost moved away, at eight I came, screaming out as I did so.

I could hear the laughter in your voice ” The floor here is wooden, so I thought even you couldn’t make a mess, now clear it up “

On my knees at your feet I started lapping up the pussy juices that had spattered onto  your shoes with my tongue. The cane marks were throbbing in that way they always did afterwards, a way that made me want to beg for more even if I had been sobbing with pain a moment before.

“Upstairs now”, and I hurried up, then paused on the landing.

“Straight ahead.” You said, and I pushed open the bedroom door, unsure what to expect.

I instantly guessed it was your bedroom, the large easel by the south facing window, the reclaimed iron fireplace recognised from photoes, all told me that. The ropes hanging from the roof beams also told me preparations had been made for my arrival.

“A St Andrews cross and suspension hook wouldn’t fit with the colour scheme”

As always you could make me laugh. The rope was doubled around the beam, then fastened through some kind of caribiner, looped around a figure of eight shaped piece of metal

“Not exactly grade one listed building approved Sir”

“Exactly, so there are advantages to being a climber, now move and stand underneath the ropes.”

Fastening  cuffs around my wrists then looping the rope on the chain between them, pulling on the other end my arms were soon stretched above my head, it made my breasts stand proud.

You stood behind me and I resisted the temptation to look, to see what you were doing, you were fastening one end of the rope to something, I could feel it growing taught, pulling on my arms.
“What is the rule while you are here this weekend”

“Obedience Sir “

“Good girl, now i think we could both do with a meal, low blood sugar is no good, I don’t want you fainting, yet. While I am cooking you will not come, understood”

“Yes Sir”

To be honest I did not think that would be a problem, my arms already ached slightly, without his presence I would be free to think about this afternoon, and what was to come. Then you pulled my nipples and I gasped, stretching  them in turn, then, once aroused gently stroking them with your thumb, circling the aureole and making me groan with pleasure. As my nipples were clamped I could not stop myself from gasping,

“Remember, no orgasms.”

Pausing at the doorway, taking in the sight of me body arched and stretching, nipples growing, rubbing my thighs together even as I bit my lip and determined not to come , I wondered if you might change your mind, if you might remain and touch me, use me , push me in the way I cried out for, but then you were gone.

When you returned, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had distracted myself by looking around the room and trying to make out what the new painting was off. My nipples were throbbing more now than my arms or the cane marks on the thighs, I knew as the blood rushed back to them I would probably come, but since you would be the one removing them that did not worry me.

Then you reentered the room carrying something in your hand.

“Arms sore?”

“Yes Sir”

“ And the nipples?”

“Throbbing Sir”

“Ahhh what a pity, oh well this should take your mind of things.”

“I could not quite see what you carried , It was black, but then you knelt before me and I froze, for one mad moment i imagined your tongue on the newly pierced clit and disgust and desire warred within me..

“Raise your left leg”

I obeyed and as something slid around my ankle I began to realize what the object was.

“Now the other leg”

Rubber panties, containing a vibrating dildo, pulled up, ready to enter me.

“I have never really seen the point of vibrating panties before, if a woman is wanking I like to be able to watch. However burnt food isn’t very appetising so they seem ideal now”

The dildo entered me and it took every ounce of control I had not to come, it filled my pussy and then you set it vibrating, Squeezing my eyes shut I almost lost it, allowing the sensation of the plastic cock in my pussy to overwhelm me, to  push me to the orgasm I knew I was so near to.

A voice brought me back.

“Remember, no orgasms,”

By the time you returned I was writhing and twisting on the ropes, my entire being focused on not coming, My clit and cunt throbbed, and my nipples responded, a network of signals bouncing and rebounding along my nerves, almost beyond my control.

“I thought I told you not to come?”

Tears starting to prick my eyes, not from pain but from the fact I wasn’t believed, that disobedience was even considered.

“I didn’t Sir, honestly I didn’t”

You  moved closer and released one of the clamps on my nipples

“Are you sure”

As the blood rushed back to my nipple I struggled to speak, but I had to convince him, overriding the sensations in my body I begged him to believe me.

“I didn’t Sir, I wouldn’t I wanted to , but…

The other clamp was  released , I cried out with a mixture of relief, pain and pleasure, the throb of the blood returning echoing my heart beat .

Then you took each nipple in his hands, and pulling them, said, “I believe you , you can come now.”

The words were enough,as my nipples were stretched, I finally allowed the orgasm to overwhelm me.

Then you were  untying the ropes, checking my wrists and rubbing them gently, I was lightheaded and stumbled against you, enfolded in your arms, we were motionless for a long moment before I was guided to the bed.

“Supper is ready, take off the panties, wash your hands and face if you need to, then join me in the kitchen.”

 

I am an owned sub. My stories try to reflect the reality of that, this is the beginning of a longer exploration.

Posted in Cliterati Magazine, Erotica, Kinky Erotica, Submission and Domination

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