Fun by the Lake

October 4, 2007 – 10:00 am

It’s dark beneath the blindfold.  I couldn’t even tell you the layout of
the room.  It was one of those happy holiday Monday’s.  The banks and post
office’s are closed, which left some of my time open.  I was so excited
when he invited me up to his lake house.  It’s great when old friends can
share new things.

I was a little startled by his email.  It contained a bit more than the
directions up to the lake.  He had added some orders of his own.

   —Come well-rested wearing a short skirt and a see through blouse
complete with heels and stockings.

   —Do not wait until Monday morning to decide on what to wear because if
you are even one minute late I won’t let your ass through the door.  It
isn’t warm enough to do you out back by the dock.

   —Bring your overnight bag and your toy bag including all the additions
that I have made to it.

He wasn’t giving much away.  I had planned on bringing my toys.  After
reading the order I was worried.  What was going on in his mind?  What was
the Master’s plan?  He was already playing his favorite game, the mind
fuck.

My ass was starting to get cold.  The short skirt had been flipped up as
soon as he had tied me over something padded.  I knew better than to wear
panties.  They had not been mentioned in the email.  I try not to piss off
the Dom right before the scene.  At least not on purpose.  My smart mouth
sometimes writes checks my ass can’t cash.

He really loved it when I gave him lip.  I could almost feel his hand
smack my ass every time that fire flashed across his eyes.  I know that as
much as he likes me, he loves to hear me beg.  Unfortunately he doesn’t
care which way he gets it.  He is equally pleased with both types of
begging.  The good type, where I’m begging for something that will pleasure
us both and the other type where I am doing the begging of the damned
subbie.  I’m sure you’ve witnessed it.

“She went to far.  She is ooohhhh so sorry, Sir.  Yes I promise, she
really really means it.  She will never vote republican again.  She will
watch one episode and one episode only of 24.  Yes Sir, she feels funny
when she talks about herself in the third person.  Please have mercy kind
Sir of the home for wayward little girls”

Okay, so back at the lake house the mind fuck was in full effect.  I had
no idea what I was tied to.  The only things that I could describe in the
room were he and I.  There was music playing and voices.  He had tapes of
this sort of thing to play with.  Please let this be one of the tapes.
Surely he wouldn’t invite people over to watch this.  Ohh shit.

I feel his breath on my neck.  “Would you prefer a nice long session
that pleases us both, with people watching?  Or would you prefer a nice
long session that pleases only me in private?” Thank god my mind censored
the first thought I had.  “Why I don’t know Sir?  Can a girl get a door
number 3 option please?” A shiver still ran down my thigh.  Maybe he didn’t
want me to answer.  He chuckled at my little dance and pushed the small of
my back down.  “Your right little girl, I’ve already decided which you
prefer today.”

Yes, that cleared things up for me too.  I heard the sting before I felt
it.  A quick exhale later and my ass wasn’t so cold.  I couldn’t tell if he
was performing for an audience or not.  He loved to control things not just
people.  I’m almost positive that everything in the room, from the surround
sound to the air vents, was built to his specifications.  I probably would
have bet on it 😉 It was a bitch kitty satisfying him.  That’s probably why
I tried so hard.  I like to have a sense of accomplishment at the end of a
hard days work.

Three minutes into the spanking and I still couldn’t tell if we were
alone.  I tried to shove it out of my head.  You know, to make room for
other things.  Then I’d feel a blast of cold air and start freaking out all
over again.  He hadn’t gagged me.  That could have meant anything.  Oh, let
it mean there was a blow job in my future.  Fuck.

I have no idea what my tell is.  He seems to be able to read when I’m
distracting myself from his actions.  That last smack hurt.  I groaned and
then quickly went silent.  My silence would only last as long as he cared
for it too.  His mind is a very vicious place.

I can’t remember all the nursery rhymes I had recited for him.  The
spanking remained constant as long as I didn’t screw up.  He would say
“Mary had a little lamb . . .  ” and if her lamb wasn’t a “little lamb”
within the next beat, I wished it was.  It was my own damn fault.  The
first time he squeezed tears out of me it was with something like that.
“I’m a little tea pot,” is now a hard limit, thank you very much.  Isn’t
humiliation part of the classic mind fuck.  He also liked to tell me to
breath and then come down like hard rain.  Try to breath and then not make
a sound when bees are stinging you.

Ohh there it is.  Oh hells yeah.  I’m past the point of complaining.
The hair is standing up on the back of my neck and I can smell his scent
all around me.  He makes sure I’m having fun by testing the waters so to
speak.  “Mmm, taste yourself and tell me if your as hot as I think you
are.” His finger slides past my lips.  There is really only one way that
I’d rather taste myself.

He watches me do my little shiver dance.  “Not yet, soon but not yet.” I
can’t help the soft moan that escapes.  He leans down and whispers “I love
to watching you beg.” I shiver again.  Then my thoughts end up swirling
around some drain in my mind.  I feel the tugging on my hair.  His hand
touches my throat and I lean in.  He works me into a tighter spiral.

Another one of my tells later and feel him standing in front of my
mouth. Yes, my fairy godmother loves me.  I open my lips and quickly wet
them.  I do my little shiver and stick my tongue out.  Just put it in
already.  He grabs my hair and lifts my head.  I finally open my eyes to
his.

“Say it.”

“Please.” Just put it in my mouth already.

“Mean it when you say it.”

Fuck, “please.” I draw out the word like some southern prayer.

“Little girl, get creative.”

It hurts not to sigh.  “My mouth is yours Sir.  Use it as it pleases.
Fuck it if you desire.  Please let me taste you Sir.”

He sighs.  “Your cunt better be dripping like faucet, because that
statement almost cooled me off.  Anything you’d like to add?”

“Sir I’m sorry that I’m unable to string together the words that you
desire.  The words that your cock deserves.  The exact fucking sentiment
engraved on my tongue that would invite you to take my mouth as your wet .
. .” I choke as he shoves his hard cock into my mouth.

“You better choke on my cock you stupid little filthy girl.  That
fucking sentiment your can’t remember is my cum spilling over the back of
your tongue on the way to your throat.  You ungratefully little slut.”

I do choke.  I hate that shit.  I can take it as deep as any man likes,
just not while I’m choking.  I don’t deserve it, so I’m not going to
complain.  Like I could get those words out right now.  He has found his
rhythm.  He slows the pace and I get to catch a small breath.

Have I told you how much I love a cock in my mouth?  I worship with my
blow jobs.  I adore it when my face looks like a shiny wet pastry.  My lips
rub in all the right places.  His breath starts to change.  I work faster
and harder trying to earn that engraving.  Just when I think I feel it
expand in my mouth it’s gone.  The sounds that I make right then are
probably the same ones I’d make if someone snatched away my last piece of
chocolate.

He comes around and enters me.  I feel whole again.  His hands start to
reapply the redness he wants my ass to wear.  I moan.  He pulls my head up
by my hair.  “More noise bitch.” The cycle of nonsense that I can come up
with during this act starts to play.  I couldn’t tell you what I said if he
ordered me too.  At this point even my efforts are background noise.  I’m
swirling down that spiral of wanton mystery.

I know that at some point I’ve cum because it runs down and starts to
puddle at my feet.  My pussy reaches a whole other level of wetness after
my first orgasm.  I’m slick and moaning.  Occasionally I form a short word
with my limited speech.

“Yes . . .  Ohh fuck . . .  please . . .  more.”

I parrot back ingrained responses to simple questions.

“Who’s cunt is my dick in?” . . .  “Your cunt Sir.”

“Fucking right it’s my cunt.  Your my dirty slut.  Mine to use.  Say it
bitch.” . . .  “It’s your cunt.  I’m your dirty slut.  Please use me Sir.”

This is all while I’m on that wonderful roller coaster called a
multi-orgasm.  I’m a lucky girl.  A fucking lucky girl who’s blessing is
quickly becoming a mess on the floor.  I wish I could tell you the number
of times that I asked for permission to cum.  After each a stream of
explicit thanks comes to life.  It would be like me pointing to a place on
the map blindfolded.  I’d have just as much chance at getting any of it
within a thousand miles of the truth.

I was in the wonderful world of the huge fucking grand slam of all my
O’s.  It wasn’t an outie, or an inny or a triple towel affair.  It was all
of them so sweetly combined that I almost didn’t realize when he pulled out
and shut me up.  That is so hot mere words will never be able to go there.
My massive orgasm was then pushed up higher when felt his dick expand.
Even higher when I tasted it.  It could have lasted anywhere from 5 seconds
to 10 mins.

The point was attained.  The lake house rocked.  Thank you, thank you
very much.