It ended, not with a bang, but a whimper.
Master used me last night. That in and of itself is not unusual.
It was the whimpering He wanted to hear that was unusual.
It’s not accurate to say that we fucked or had sex. Those phrases imply a partnering, a coming together of two people seeking mutual pleasure; this was not about my pleasure. It’s equally inaccurate to say that we made love as there was nothing loving about it.
I couldn’t scream or cry out or say words. I couldn’t touch or block or move.
First, with my mouth silenced, stuffed full of cock, He smacked at my bare cunt with the palm of His hand. Smack-smack-smack-tug. Each tug of the pubic hair making my eyes bug and a whimper boil it’s way around His cock. Again and again, smack-smack-smack-tug, tug-tug-TUG-smack-smack. Smack-smack-smack-smack-smack-smack, the heat and pain rising with each furiously-fast crack against my cunt, until, again, whimpers wiggled their way across His cock.
He flipped me around and poked the head of His cock just into my cunt, holding it there, holding still, His form a heavy, hot, panting mass above me. In confusion I lifted my hips, thinking like a good little slut, trying to bury the rest of Him inside me. He growled at me and backed up a bit. “It goes in when I want it to go in, cunt” and I realized the error of my ways. He didn’t want a good little slut tonight. He wanted a good little cunt. I stilled, spread my legs wider, and prepared myself for the painful plunge that I knew was coming.
And it did, just as I knew it would. I probably don’t feel His preparations as much as I sense them; the tensing in His muscles, the positioning His legs and hips, coiling, like a snake preparing to strike, before driving into me just as fast and as hard as He can possibly move – but I certainly feel the searing pain of being penetrated before my body is ready. Tender cunt-flesh being shoved aside or ripped away, hip bones grinding into mine, the warm rush of His breath across my face as He grunts with the effort of tearing through.
I wonder sometimes if, as I’m aware of His preperations to plunder me, is He is aware of the struggle that I carry on within myself? Or is He fooled by the appearance of me, legs still spread, arms passive. Do I make it look too easy, does my demeanor belie the pain and difficulty of it all? Does He see the white-knuckled grip I have on the sheets? Does He feel the trembling in my thighs as I fight to hold them open? Does He notice the scrunching of my face or hear the gasp that is ripped from my lungs?
I suppose He does. And I suppose that’s why He immediately, before I’ve recovered from the first plunge, pulls back for another and another and another. I suppose that’s why He wraps His arms around the top of my head, pinning me in place, because otherwise His thrusting tends to send me sliding up the bed. I suppose that’s why He places His ear next to my mouth to better hear as I whimper with each body-jolting thrust.
And as soon as my body adjusts to the invasion of His cock, as my cunt lubes itself and my internal organs find other places to rest, and my whimpers dissolve into gasps of pleasure, I suppose that’s why He changes His methods. Lifting Himself up on His knees to free His hands but still keeping His cock pistoning in and out, He grabs my breasts and mashes them in His fists, digging His fingers in until I’m sure they’re about to puncture through. Grasping them and beating them against each other like cymbals, creating fleshy lumps of sound that reverberate through the air and my chest, mingling with the refreshed whimpering. I almost lose it then, lifting my hands, wanting so badly to grab His arms and stop this insanely painful breast tenderizing, but I do nothing, nothing but flap my hands uselessy at my side while He continues on, smacking them together harder and harder before switching it up by slapping the heels of His hands into them and grinding down, smooshing flesh into ribs, driving the breath out of me in one long, whispery, whimper.
That final whimper seemed to do it for Him and He jerked out of me, grabbing me by the hair and yanking me upright where I knew to hurriedly suck Him into my mouth, His cock all warm, wet, and sticky from my cunt, and work Him with my tongue and throat until He’s finished, sated, emptied.
After, I bathed the sweat from His back, bathed my juices from His cock and balls, I thanked Him for using me, while my insides ached and my breasts and nipples stung.
Hours later, in the deep darkness of pre-dawn, He woke me by pulling my legs apart and He took me again. Gentler this time, slower and easier, He rubbed His cock along my still-tender slit until enough of my own wetness and greed coaxed Him in. This time I whimpered for different reasons as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me, soothing the aches and pains that He was gently bumping. He whispered that He was going to come inside of me, a rarity as He considers any sperm not ending up down my throat to be an extreme waste, and I moved with Him, enjoying the uncommon but pleasant feel of His cock pulsing with orgasm in my sore and battered cunt.
He lay on top of me then, still and spent, His breathing slowing in my ear. I could feel His cock buried deep inside of me. I experimentally squeezed, clenching my cunt around his ultra-sensitive cock and He twitched, whimpering in my ear. I smiled into the darkness, clenching again, and He answered with another whimper, a breathy and agonizingly erotic whimper, waftly softly through my ear to lodge like a shockwave in my groin.
For just a moment I had a taste of why He chases after my whimpering with such fervent passion and determination. It’s hot, it’s powerful, it’s arousing. A simple, lasciviously breathless moan. It’s musical. I stopped clenching, feeling a bit like I’d peeked at my Christmas presents, and He gave my nipple a hard tweak causing me to whimper again, putting Him back on top. After all, I am not the maestro here. I am but the instrument, being played at His whim.
~cunt
LikeTags: smut
Uncategorized | kaya | 
Monday October 6th, 2008 8:41am
this made me…erm…i have to *cough* take care of something…
“this made me…erm…i have to *cough* take care of something…”
lol. ;)
Um, yeah, me too! Time for a little … rest break…!
Lovely…very hot!
Daddy enjoys whimpering too. Sometimes he stuffs my pussy with a towel so I’m all dry again before…um…plunging back in. Ouch.
I love it when they can growl into your ear to hold still one minute then turn around and wimper into your ear how much you turn them on.
terrific post Kaya -
Thank you for yet another wonderful post… i stopped reading your site for a bit because i had other things going on… but i’m on orgasm restriction today and my Master (being the evil cruel wonderful man that He is) wanted to make sure that *this* restriction was particularly difficult… so…
tack bra…
butt plug…
reading your page…
all good things aimed at keeping me horny and frustrated…. sigh…
yah… i am *so* looking forward to tomorrow.
That was flippin’ amazing to read, can’t imagine the real deal.
I love those last few seconds when they are still inside you and you can do something so small to elicit a response so sweet, yet so very hott at the same time. It’s one of my favorite parts, when the oporitunity arrises.
*Hugs* babe!
Wonderful post. The story is hot, and heavy, yet it reveals things about how he makes you feel as well. Things that others, including myself can relate to. You are a great writer. Thank you for sharing with all of us.
pet
this post was beautiful…thank you for sharing!
That’s lovely.
It’s beautiful when two people find each other and can be intimate in the way that suits them both. I myself am a dominant, but I read your blog because you write about the messy reality of it all, and sometimes you get very beautifully lyrical with it.
You made me smile.
Kaya,
It’s almost de rigor to demand that a slave thank her Master for everything He does to her, be it pleasurable or painful. In some ways that always struck me as silly. A thank you that is automatic, without regard to whther it’s meant, tends to cheapen it. In your case, however, I know that when you thank Him for a painful, whimper inducing fuck, you truly mean it.
Oh, and hot post too. I may steal some of the descriptors in a future story. ;)
Dave
very pretty. thanks for the morning’s read. :)
as painful as it must have been sweetie, it was so beautiful, so pure…im missing my Master soo much at this moment..thank you for always sharing such intimate feelings.
hugs to you,
Hisflower
This is truly awful – a police matter. You’re fooloing yourself if you think it was anything but an assault.
Indeed. It was so awful I had eleventy-billion orgasms. I hope to God no one ever saves me from that horror!
This post was absolutely beautiful. You captured so much, so eloquently. i’ve read for some time now but this moved me so much, i just had to comment *nerd, i know :P*
You are a very very lucky slave girl. :)
warmest wishes,
k.