Control

I moaned as the warmth between my legs simmered and the intensity steamed through my cries. I begged and pleaded, but my requests returned unanswered.  In a world where by submitting one received the lesser, my pain magnified instead. I could not submit. I could not relinquish, because with each attempt the intensity would only multiply.  They didn’t want me to surrender they wanted me to fight and summon my inner aggressor.  To unchain the suppressed and release the beast within me.

My hands and feet were bound, making it nearly impossible to escape. As much as the pain stung and my body ached with distress I refused to surrender the part of me they wanted most: my vulnerability.

By surrendering my weakness it allowed them access to gain my control. I would never be controlled.

Concurrently there was a slap and sting against my skin, I cried out in pain. Again, the slap of palm against skin, my backside stung from the impact.  I had screamed for almost an hour and none of the neighbors inquired as to the source. No one rang the doorbell or sent the police. No one called to make sure everything was okay. No one heard my cries and no one would interrupt the moment.

The third slap made me grit my teeth. I pulled against the arm restraint which secured me to the headboard. The pillow beneath me absorbed my tears, I would not let them see me cry, I wouldn’t let them see the pain.

My skin was an even brown and as smooth as a river of chocolate, but by now I’m sure the redness permeated the roundness of my ass. Blindfolded I couldn’t see my deliverers intention, my heart sped as the silence advanced the anticipation.

The bed sunk underneath me from adjusted weight. The hardwood floor groaned from the footsteps above it. Footsteps retreated.

Silence.

I refused to move, by now I had learned the rules.  Moving would bring punishment, punishment would bring pain. The footsteps returned fainter than when they’d left. They tried to minimize the floors groan, to catch me by surprise.  One side of the bed sunk again and my body conformed to the change.

An object stroked my neck and followed my spine slowly down to my backside. I arched my back meeting the object as it slivered between the parting below it. The touch was soft and delicate, like a feather. It circled around the area of my backside that still swelled with soreness. It moved slowly and without a need for time. The brush was soothing and comforting. Soon the touch was replaced by the warmth of a palm, then two. The hands were soft and warm, soothing and delicate.

She whispered in my ear, “Come for me baby?”

Her breath reverberated off the tremors in my neck

“Maria I can’t,” I replied

In her sexually seductive Puerto Rican accent she replied, “You can. Just let go.”

Her hand strolled between my legs and the moisture between them gave her exceptional ease of entrance. She slid one finger inside me, then two as she moved slowly inside then out and back again. The depression of my lower back allowed my ass to prop and meet her with each thrust. She loved the way I gyrated my hips. I had invested in a dancing class at my gym and already the money was well spent. The rhythmic motion sent me in to subtle spasms. Maria moaned.

She pulled out of me quickly, until only the tip of her longest finger remained inside me. Then she returned the thrust, pushing two fingers inside. I met her thrust and sunk into her palm insuring the sound I know she loved. I’m sure she watched the arch of my back. Admiring the sunken curve which rose to the roundness of my backside.  I entertained her, knowing she had both eyes on me. She always gave me the attention I craved, the attention I needed.

Quickly she removed her fingers, leaving me empty and hollow. Soon the warmth of her breath was between my thighs and her tongue lapped, savoring the nectar that seeped from pleasure. She was an extraordinary pleaser and as she sucked and circled, teased and satisfied my clitoris I buried my head into the pillow. My sexual appetite was strong and she successfully brought me near release, but she would never bring me to conclusion. Despite how intense and how pleasing, she would never make me orgasm.