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"Go clean up."
It was mid-afternoon, and we were alone in the house. Just last night, less than 15 hours ago, she had ridden me hard and put me away wet. (Very wet)
But, like last night, I obeyed without hesitation. I am getting quite good at the process, particularly when I have advanced notice. I came back into the bedroom and she was on the bed, reading. Her harness was on, with it's cock in place.
She pointed at the carpet by the side of the bed and just told me to kneel. I obeyed, and she got out of bed and walked behind me. I felt her hand on my neck, gently at first, almost a caress, and then she pushed my head down into the mattress.
"Stay."
Again, I obeyed. I listened to her moving around, and then walking behind me. I felt her hands on my neck again, and then felt my collar slide around it. She buckled it in place, latch at the back. As an aside, I MUCH prefer it when she does this. It just makes me feel SO much more like her property than when the buckle is in the front or the side. Then she put on my locking leather wrist and ankle cuffs. She didn't lock them or connect them, just put them on. I was still kneeling beside her bed, my face pressed into it.
"Now, you didn't do anything wrong. You've been really attentive. I just wanted you to know that," she said, "this is just for fun." Crack! It felt like a belt, which we usually use only for releasing negative emotional energy for major transgressions or past issues. It probably wasn't THE belt, and we certainly weren't being solemn. I don't think the First Lady realizes that she laughs sometimes when she hits me. It's not the out and out laughter like out at the public dungeon in Jacksonville, but there are laughs, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
She worked on me there, kneeling by the bed, for a little while. She switched out to Old Blue, her favorite riding crop, and man can she make that sting. I think the angle was bad for the belt, because the crop hurts SO much more. I writhed, the pain was intense. She paused, and I felt her fingers at my anus, and then she was inside of me, feeling for my prostate, finding it, and rubbing against it, back and forth. It felt amazing, and the feeling was only magnified when she started peppering my back with blows as she rubbed my prostate. It's a feeling unlike anything else you will experience, and the pain in my back seemingly confused my brain, magnifying both feelings. And then, just like that, it was over. "Stand up." I stood, of course. She took the belt (It was not THE belt) and tightened it around my abdomen right under my chest, cinching it hard. Her hands ran over my body, caressing the warm skin where she had worked me over.
"You never bruise," she said, disappointed, "Get on the bed."
"Yes, Abigail."
Face down, ass up, hands straight out in front of me.
She took her time. Securing my wrists together, putting my chain leash on, pulling it under the belt and hooking my ankles to the handle end. I was fairly secure. Sometimes she ties me immobile so I have no physical way of moving, and other times she relies on her authority to hold me in place. This time was a little bit of both.
She got up on the bed behind me, and slipped the anal bead dildo I use to stretch out into my ass, pulling the leash aside. It was rather tight, and when she pulled on it, even the few inches she needed, I had to lift my neck or ankles to accomodate her. After working it in and out a few times, she snapped the chain back into place, and then pressed hard on it, through the chain, forcing it in all the way and moving the tip around deep inside me.
I moaned with pleasure. When she works me over first, the pleasure she gives me gets magnified. This time was no exception. I could feel the ribbed surface rubbing against my prostate, and it felt amazing.
But then she stopped, and I moaned again, with a little disappointment. She didn't seem to notice, which is good, because she doesn't like it when I express disappointment in these situations. She left and went into the bathroom. I heard the water run. I didn't move; not out of fear of punishment, but because she had left me in a state that was completely attuned to her will. I was her creature, completely. She left me in this position, and I stayed, exactly as she left me.
I heard her come back in and walk to the far side of the bed. I remember wondering if she was going to fuck me then, and I was extremely excited.
Crack! Nope. She was not done having fun yet. She laughed a small laugh when I gasped, and then started to apply her riding crop to every square inch of my back (except the dangerous bits) ass, legs, and even feet. She would hit one spot, in a crescendo of force, over and over. This would build the pain and make me writhe, sometimes even calling out. This was not what she wanted or allowed, and I would pay for these lapses with hard shots to exceptionally sensitive areas like the outside bend of my ass. This spot hurts me like crazy. I would master the pain, plant my face back down in the bed and keep quiet, and she would move on. After some minutes of this I was actually contemplating using my safeword for slowing down, but just as I thought I would, she slowed down. I feel so connected to her when she does this. She backed off, and the blows became lighter, more spread out, and interspersed with caresses. She would manipulate the plug in my ass, rub an area that was pink, and use the crop lightly. It was so sweet, and so loving. She doesn't laugh at these times, just make sweet noises.
She backed off a little bit, and then started again, focusing the crop on single spots on my ass with repeated blows of increasing strength. The net effect of all of what she was doing was remarkable, and I felt so incredibly turned on. The blows actually started hurting a little less, almost, but not quite, to that endorphin-fueled state where I don't feel them as pain, but rather as an entirely new form of sensation.
She finished with a flourish, switching to new spots and beating me into a writhing mass only capable of biting my lip to keep from screaming, and then it was done. I was panting on the bed, sweat drenched. I felt amazing. She had just pegged me last night, so I wondered if that was it. I heard her walk over to the fan, and it came on, the cool breeze evaporating my sweat, and helping to cool me, and cool the pain. She ran her hand down my body as she walked back down to the bottom of the bed. She shooed the dog off the ottoman we have there, the one with two sections. One is for things that bind and hurt, and the other is for toys that poke and pleasure. But right now it was just a convenient way for her to get back onto the bed.
I felt her settle in behind me, and her hands rubbed at my now-reddened ass. I could picture the contented smile she had on her face, even though I wasn't allowed to see it. She pulled the leash to one side again, and I raised my ankles to give her the leeway. Out came my spreader, and I thought, for a split second, that that would be it.
It was not. As is her wont, she immediately slid her strapon into my ass, all the way.
It. Felt. Glorious. The combination of the anal play, the tight bonds, and the amazing impact play had wound me up to an extraordinary level. I felt an emotional surge. I could ABSOLUTELY feel her presence over me as she thrust in. I felt owned, loved, and properly used. It was amazing. It always is, and I usually get emotional. This time was no exception. I confessed my love and devotion. I thanked her for putting a collar on me, for owning me. I gushed. I could feel her love, her power, investing me. It was (always is) earthshaking. This time was exceptional. She started thrusting in and out of me, rather slowly, and I subsided, incapable of speech. It felt amazing. So slow, so deliberate, so beautiful.
She had one hand on the belt around my chest, and the other on the leash, holding to one side. This setup was forcing me to actively participate. I could not just kneel there and take it. Because she needed me to give slack on the leash, I needed to focus on keeping my neck back or my ankles up. This active participation meant my feelings were enhanced, significantly.
She just held on by the belt and pushed in and out of me for long moments. I was just reveling in the feeling when I felt the crack of the crop on my shoulderblade. It was a sharp blow, strongly delivered, and it made me arch my back. It was an amazing feeling, and again, my body was thrust into a confused space where pleasure was pain and pain was pleasure. I'm not sure home many thrusts and accompanying blows came, but it was enough that I lost count. I floated in a beautiful cloud of sensation.
The crop fell one last time, and then she put it down, raising herself up to a crouch over me, her silicone cock buried in my ass. When she was in the perfect spot over me, with her hands pressing down into my shoulders, she started fucking me truly hard, as hard as she ever had.
I can't really describe this part. It's not that I passed out, but rather my senses seemed to white out. It was amazing. If before I felt owned, completely, now I felt like an actual piece of her existence. She hammered into me, and I could hear her slamming into my bare skin. I think she must have eventually tired, and I can honestly say I was not disappointed that she stopped. Not that felt relieved, just that I was incapable of feeling any normal emotion. It was an incredible experience.
She moved off of me, suddenly pulling out, right in tempo, just bang-bang-bang-bang-done, and again I was left gasping. She checked in with me, to make sure I was okay, and I reassured her as soon as I was able to be articulate. I felt her hands at my ankles, loosening the bonds, freeing me. Again, I felt it might be over, and again, it was not.
She just moved up to the top of the bed, unhooked my wrist cuffs, and lay back. "Get on, boy," she said, pointing at her cock.
"Yes, Abigail," I said, and slid up the bed, putting my leg over her, and sliding her into me smoothly.
Unlike the day before, the massive sensations she had given me this time had primed my prostate in a way I had never felt before, and I knew almost immediately that, if she allowed it, I would ride her to orgasm in short order.
Her hands reached up to caress my nipples, just gently rubbing at them with her cupped palms. I moaned and shook; the feeling was sublime. I do not recall if she talked dirty to me then, but I do remember that she looked down and was watching my cock as I bounced up and down on her. I love her smile when she is doing this, it is so possessive, and yet kind. I can feel her authority flowing out of her through the dildo and her hands, pulling the orgasm out of me.
It can't have been much more than three minutes before I exploded, having a mind-blowing hands free orgasm. If felt like my insides had turned to one huge pleasure sensing device. I came a huge amount, and then slumped. She laughed. Not a giggle, but a confident if quiet laugh. She loves it when she gives me such pleasure. She loves delivering it EXACTLY on her terms. I can see it in her eye, hear it in her laugh, and feel it in the way she holds me afterward. I am hers, to be tormented or rewarded, as she sees fit. And I love it.
