BDSM

Understanding My Requirements

My needy body is displayed to reveal its possessor.

Spankmasters
Jun 14, 2024
10 min read
leashriding cropedgingsubmissivecollaranal hookorgasm denialblow jobtawseHe Knows What I Need
He Knows What I Need
He Knows What I Need

Understanding My Requirements

I can still recall the day when I first asked him to spank my pussy. He had hesitated, asking, "Are you sure?" Then, he observed me as he gently swatted me between my legs.

When I had moaned and pushed towards his hand, he grew more confident, gradually hitting harder. In time, he became assured of my honesty and learned to smack my pussy whenever he desired, delighted in my reactions, the wetness that spread between my legs, the way I spread my legs wider, affording him easier access. His pet, eager for his markings.

Several weeks have passed since I've seen him, and it pleased him to keep me deprived and teased throughout that duration. He had me roll one of my 20-sided dice, and edge as many times as the number it yielded each day. I had been sending him photographs and the occasional video, as well as publicizing them online for others to view and comment on. He liked reading me the remarks from strangers, and while I'd always been somewhat of an exhibitionist, being starved of this for such an extended period made me incredibly promiscuous.

By the time I arrived at his house, I was so frustrated I was questioning whether it was feasible to perish from horniness. Naturally, I wore my anal plug and weights for the journey, endeavoring to ensure that I was as stimulated as possible and that I would be effectually moist upon arrival. He had established that as our second House Rule, and I am a devoted submissive.

"I have missed you, sweetness," he smirked, transporting my bags into the residence.

"I have missed you too, Master," I divulged, removing my clothes and placing them on the table by the entranceway. That was our first House Rule — no apparel inside the house.

Depositing the bags on the kitchen floor, he advanced towards me and palmed my naked bosoms and ass while he kissed me. "I adore your hands on me!" I noted, straining closer to him.

"As do I, slut," he spanked my ass forcefully, and provided me my beverage. "Have you consumed ample fluids?"

"Indeed, Master!" I confirmed.

"Excellent, now gulp down your slut nectar, as I plan to subject you to various agonies."

I whimpered, my pussy throbbing. "Yes, please, Master!" I learned that a double shot of vodka aids in relaxing my joints and improving the circumference of my blood vessels, making me warm and receptive before engaging in sex. Chronic health conditions do not preclude you from engaging in the kind of sex you covet; they merely necessitate mindful decision-making. He dubbed my Ocean sugar cane vodka my "slut nectar" once, and it endured, evolving into a persistent innuendo between us.

"Bend over," he commanded, his hands caressing my ass to toy with my pretty plug. I bent over the counter, and he extracted the plug gradually, then returned it, concurrently sliding his hand to my pussy. His crafty fingers located the weighted balls and manipulated them, prompting an overwhelming stimulation.

"I am nearing climax if you persist with this," I cautioned him. He chuckled, relinquishing his ministrations.

"Drink your slut juice, and let's affix your collar and cuffs," he recommended, rubbing my ass. "Then, head to the bathroom and clean your travel toys."

I obeyed his instruction, and a grin spread across my face. I was so significantly aroused I could barely discern straight, and my collar and cuffs are so exquisite! He secured them in the dining hall, then had me stand up and face the dining table.

"What female possessed this derriere?" he questioned severely, "Your ass, Master!" I exclaimed, as he smacked both cheeks vehemently and firmly. "Excellent slut," he remarked approvingly, grasping the rear of my neck and compelling my bust onto the dining table. "Now splay your legs for me like the whore you are, darling. Exhibit that yearning pussy, my little fucktoy."

I spread my legs widely, countenancing my pussy from behind. He maintained control of my neck, but his other hand mapped his property. Grasping a fistful of ass cheek, he squeezed roughly and twisted, eliciting whimpers and squirming from me.

"Remain immobile," he ordered sternly, smacking both cheeks hastily and severely, several more times.

"Yes, Master," I said, making an effort to stagnate.

I detected a metallic noise against the precinct of the wooden table, and recognized it when I felt the cold steel of the anal hook penetrating my dripping pussy. My moaning caused me to forget to remain static, and he released my neck, withdrew the hook, and spanked my pussy five times in quick succession.

"What's the issue, sex toy?" he teased, bemused. "Is it so troublesome to maintain inertia?"

"Please sir, it's been ages," I pleaded, shifting my hips as his palms warmed my pussy and my ass.

"Please what, cutie?"

"Please sir! It's been weeks! Please fuck me! PLEASE let me cum!"

He chuckled, clearly amused by my predicament. "Alright, darling, I'll fuck you, but not until I'm ready and proper," he responded.

He inserted the three-tiered ball on the end of the anal hook into my pussy, manipulating it in and out, ensuring it was well-lubricated before moving it to my anus.

His hand was tight around my neck, pushing me onto the wooden table's surface. "Relax," he said calmly, as he thrust the stainless steel into my rectum. "And don't cum."

"Ok, Sir. I won't cum," I gasped, breathless.

He connected the leash to the loop on the back of my collar and the ring on the anal hook's end. He yanked it, tugging on my collar and the hook simultaneously.

He let go of my neck and ran his hand down into my pussy. "Look how wet you are, fuck toy!" he exclaimed and offered his fingers to my mouth.

I opened my lips and welcomed my personal nectar into my mouth, licking it off his fingers until every last drop was gone.

"I absolutely adore how eagerness you are to lick your own juice off me." He turned and stood up. "Stay still."

He whipped me with his riding crop, making me scream with surprise as it hit my throbbing pussy repeatedly. He struck my thighs and ass, one after the other, quickly and furiously. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

"Are you ok, honey?" he asked, giving me a brief respite.

"Yes, Sir," I confirmed, momentarily braced for his next move.

He resumed his flogging, alternating his target from my pussy to my thighs, ass, hips, and back - slowly at first and then gradually building in intensity and speed.

"You're a wonderful masochist, baby," he praised, pausing for a moment. "You love the pain, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," I cried in response. "I like the pain."

"That's my good pain slut right there. Your pussy looks so engorged," he complimented and reached out, ribbing my clit between his thumb and forefinger.

"Please, Sir, may I cum?" I begged, my imminent orgasm unavoidable at this point.

"No orgasms," he denied, grabbing my clit and bringing it into his mouth. My screams echoed around the room.

He put it down and picked up the crop, resuming with gentle but slowly progressing intensity until I could no longer suppress my screams.

"You like this don't you?" He circled my nipples. "You're so fucking wet!" His erection pressed against my ass through his pants. "Did you like that crop, honey?"

"Please, sir, more," I asked after collecting myself a bit.

"Good girl," he purred as he stoked my breasts. "But first, I'm going to make it even more difficult for you, because it's wildly entertaining watching you hold back the orgasm," he said with a chuckle.

The vibrator suddenly was turned on. He placed it against the anal hook and I moaned in delight mixed with apprehension.

He inserted his fingers into my pussy. My moans grew louder. All sensations were doubled.

"Sir, I'm so close to cumming," I called out.

"Good girl," he said, encouraging me. "I want you to tell me exactly when you're about to. Use your words and ask me for what you want."

"Please sir, more," I gasped. "I want more."

"That's my submissive masochist," he said, patting my ass. "But first, I'm going to make it more challenging for you."

Without warning, he turned on a vibrator. He guided it against the anal hook, letting me feel the vibration deep in my ass.

His fingers massaged me from within, quickly bringing me to the point of no return. "Sir, I- I think- I can't- No, don't make me! I'm going to come!"

"Wait," He demanded. "You want more?"

"Please," I begged, my voice shaking. "More, Sir."

"Good girl," he said, pressing the vibrator firmly against my clit. Every cell in my body burned with sensations, my mind lost in the ecstasy of it all.

I was at his mercy, begging for more, ecstatic at his every brush against my clit and the cropping on my pussy. His demands were my bossom friend whom I could not do without. I needed to cum and yet, couldn't understand how long I could maintain this wretched misery. Oh how I wanted to scream his name.

"You believe that, huh? If your brain hasn't gone mushy, then I've got some more work to do!" He chuckled as he said this. "I'll need to try harder to drain your brain right through your pussy, I guess." He emphasized this by turning up the vibrator and using his fingers on my clit, driving me into a frenzy.

Eventually, I gave in and stopped him.

He halted, switching off the vibrator, and said, "Good girl." He then grabbed the paddle. "What a good little slut you are for me!" This paddle is made of leather with a split down the middle. It feels incredible, and always leaves such lovely marks.

He continued his rhythmic spankings, hitting my pussy hardest and then moving to my ass cheeks, thighs, hips, and back, trying as hard as he could to leave marks that would remind me of him for at least a week.

"Wait a second." He stepped back to examine his handiwork. "Something's off here..."

I laid there, waiting patiently.

"I know!" he exclaimed, pulling my folds apart. "Your clit looks so neglected!"

He pulled and teased my clit until it stood out from my pussy lips. "Keep yourself open," he ordered, and I did as instructed, spreading myself wide.

He took photos with his phone, and then took out the paddle.

"I'm going to hit you quite hard," he warned me. "You have to count out loud and ask me for each strike, or I'll stop."

He came up behind me and raised the paddle to strike my exposed clit and open pussy, careful not to hit the spine on the paddle. I screamed and jerked up from the table.

He waited for me to lie back down, and I gasped "One."

He queried, "Again?"

"Yes, please," I begged, making sure to hold myself open and keep my hands out of trouble.

Again, he raised the paddle and brought it down hard, causing me to scream. "Two."

He asked me again, "Again?" before each hit, checking that I was alright. I hated this frequency, preferring to lose myself in subspace, but there was something about having to ask for each hit that turned me on even more. Even though it was not my preference, I wanted him to carry on.

He stopped when I started sobbing, after administering five harsh slaps.

"You're such a fantastic pain slut," he cooed, embracing me and soothing me. "You took five hard strikes! I'm so proud of you!" He kissed me and caressed my aching pussy. I shivered in pleasure at his praise. I'd do anything just to hear him praise me.

He continued to stroke me and arouse me until my breathing was back under control. When I was calm again, we walked back into the bedroom.

"You look so cute on all fours," he told me as he undressed and took more pictures.

"Thank you, Sir," I said, staying still for the camera, knowing that these pictures would be online soon.

He joined me on the bed and got on top of me, entering me.

His cock penetrated my severely tender pussy, and he hauled on my leash. I moaned in response. "Please, Sir!" I begged.

"Please what?" he teased.

"Please, may I cum, Sir?"

He was quiet for a moment before pushing deeper into me.

"No."

"Yes, Sir," I agreed, staying resigned to the growing orgasm. My pussy was fast approaching tears from the pain and pleasure, my ass and thighs and back ached, and my asshole and pussy felt so stuffed.

I don't know how much more I could take, but I knew that since he said no, no cumming for me.

"No, you can't," he said, withdrawing abruptly from me.

I cried out again, and he delicately removed the hook from the ring in my posterior. I felt empty and worried that he might make me endure for who knows how long.

His fingers grasped my hips; he flipped me on my back, placed my legs over his shoulders, and shoved his cock into my lubed and relaxed to the point of laxity anus.

I attempted to draw a deep breath as he commenced ramming my ass viciously, wringing another groan from me.

My climax was building more rapidly this time, and I cautioned him again, "Sir, I'm going to come!"

"Not without my word," he muttered angrily, and halted his thrusts.

I sobbed, feeling helpless and onerous with desperation and impatience. Nevertheless, I stayed still in an attempt to submit to his will and enjoyment.

"Good girl," he crooned, soothing me. "You're being a good slave. Now take in my cock. I adore how much of an anal whore you've become." He reinitiated his thrusts, and I moved to resist another orgasm.

It rose up astonishingly quickly, yet it was shorter-lived. "Sir, I'm going to come!"

"Really?" he teased, laughing. "Well, fuckslut, you're such a delight to mess with."

I wept, telling him again. "I can't stop it!"

In a clear voice, he ordered, "Come for me."

I thought I'd explode. My orgasm assailed me relentlessly, yet it prolonged. He carried on reaming into my ass, rampaging my anus as my climax began to subside. He remained inside me, and I continued to writhe, as his cock kept twitching.

He got off of my shoulder, and with a deep breath, shuddered, inducing further spasms from me. He smiled, and slapped my breasts as he successfully pulled out.

I was straining to get up, attempting to go to the bathroom to get clean, but my legs refused to obey.

"Excellent," he said, glowing. "If I've brought you to a point where you can't move, I've done my job well then."

I laughed raggedly, still trembling, "Yes, you did, Sir. Thank you!"

"My pleasure, my pet."

I mustered enough strength to collect myself, and in the same vein, he did. Eventually, I nestled on his chest, clean-worn out, and fell asleep.

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