Home

Behind the soft brown scarf, she could see nothing but blackness. The precise squeeze on her nipples and the pinpointed pinch on her clit were just the right amount of pain-pleasure to keep her on edge. Arms cuffed above her head and legs tied with the prickly jute, calf to thigh, she was completely exposed to him, in more than flesh. Butterflies swirling in her belly, she folded into her smallness, anticipating him.

Her hearing hyper-aware, she picked up on the slight tinking of the metal pulls being lifted, then the gritty slide of wood against wood as he opened the red wood drawer. She knew which drawer it was as soon as she heard its uneven slide – it was the drawer of impact implements, and her heart began to race.

As she lay there waiting, breathing already a bit labored, the mini clothespins on her nipples were quickly becoming the center of her world, so much so that she forgot about the impact until she felt the whoosh of air, followed by the first landing. His releasing of the clothespin from her clit had caused a surge of blissful agony, followed by an engorged ache which thumped to the beat of her heart. It was so sensitive, she could feel even the slightest shift in the air, so the crop’s swift strike brought about a guttural, almost panicky scream. Oh, God. She knew there’d be more. And more.

The strikes came, in a quick rhythm, one after the other while he watched her face contort and her back arch in love-hate of every single strike. In that moment, her entire being focused on the sound of the crop on her tender, swollen skin, on the delicious, rhythmic pain on her clit and the glorious pinching of her nipples. 

Landing harder and harder, the strikes came in rapid succession, until he stopped, abruptly, leaving a silence that was just as loud as noise.

In her stillness, she heard the click of a button and a simultaneous buzz – she knew that noise! Oh, God, she knew. 

Strike, buzz, strike, buzz. Over and over. Again and again. 

There was nothing else, only he and her, the pinch and the strike and the buzz.

Layers of pain-pleasure flowed, one on top of the other, like conflicting currents, flooding her brain. Feeling the overwhelming evidence of her arousal, cool against the heat of each landing, she could even hear her wetness with each strike of the crop and pressing of the buzz.

Desperate for release, the humming in her center flowed outward to her surface, consuming her. It was all she could taste, all she could smell. She felt like she needed it more than she needed to breathe. The coil he had wound so deeply in her core was so tight, it pulled at her skin. It clenched every muscle and clamped shut her eyelids. She was afraid of its impending intensity; she was afraid of letting it go. 

But, it wasn’t a choice.

Ripping and slicing through her entire body, her orgasm took over. It was viscous and glorious and painfully heavenly, causing her to writhe and struggle against the restraints. The grunting and moaning sounds coming from the back of her throat didn’t even sound like her.

When she finally began to float back to earth, he pushed inside her, grinding and slamming into the puffy ache, pain-pleasure rocketing her body right back to the same heightened state from which she thought she’d returned, and then beyond. And further. Until he’d taken all he wanted from her.

Removing the scarf, he looked her in the eyes. All she saw was his dominance reflecting her surrender. Infinite love.

She saw home.

-image found on Tumblr, source unknown; included in Matsurbation Monday, week 130

30 thoughts on “Home

      • You write D/S so well, not just the sex but the emotions too, so well, that I believe if you so wished, you could make money doing it. If you were to put all your similarly themed writings together in a book of vignettes, you could sell it on Amazon. I have a blogger friend who writes thrillers and erotica and self-publishes through Amazon, and does quite well with his work, especially the erotica. 😀

      • Wow, Cathy, thank you. I’ve considered it a few times, with shorts or vignettes, or even a diary of sorts. One day, I’ll actually do the legwork and see if it’s something I desire and how to proceed if so. I appreciate your encouragement very much!

      • You’re welcome, Kay. I really see potential profit in your writing. Publishing an eBook, or print on demand VIA Amazon isn’t hard if you have a little computer savvy. You can Google KPD (Kindle Direct Publishing) and read about it if and when you wish. There are other platforms one can use to self-publish, but in my opinion, Amazon’s KDP is the best for eBooks, and their Createspace for print on demand.

      • Thank you! I’ve seen the info but not researched it much. I definitely have the desire to write and improve, and the only negative to publishing is the marketing stuff. I don’t think I’m interesting in that at all!

      • Me either. I self-published a few things early last year, and got mixed results. I ended up taking them down because of having to market all the time. But erotica is another cup of tea. 😀

      • Really? Your stuff is so good!! But I totally get not wanting to market all the time.

        Sex sells, I heard, lol. I suppose the only way to find out is to try!

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