A few nights ago, Master and I retired to bed. He started reading a book, an almost-nightly ritual for Him, reading until He nods off. (Nods off three times EXACTLY before He closes it and shuts off the light. Men can be so *weird*) Anyway, as He very often does, He flips the blanket off of His nether regions, snaps His fingers and points. That’s my cue to crawl between His legs and get jiggy wit it.
Most nights I perfectly accept this. Most nights I enjoy it immensely. Most nights I’m rather moist in the crotch before He’s anywhere near being done. Most nights.
There are a few nights when I simply ain’t in the mood.
Occasionally I can persuade Him that He is really too tired for a blow job and He should just go to sleep.. He works very hard and very long hours you know! Sometimes I can entice Him into a lovely round of S&M type sex with lots of choking and slapping and moaning and groaning and begging, the kind that leaves you breathless and dizzy, dehydrated and sore and a little fuddled in the head for a few minutes.
That leaves the rare night when I just do NOT want to… and He is absolutely NOT going to accept anything else.
Of course He wins.. He’s the boss. That’s His ‘perk’. I do it, and I usually do it sufficiently. It’s not a performance that would land me in a porno by any means but it’s enough that He gets to go to sleep with empty testes. The end result is the same.
Then there were nights like last Monday. It was an “I don’t wanna, He didn’t care” night. But I was also in the rare ‘I’ll do it cuz You make me but I’m gonna make sure You don’t like it’ mood. Honestly, those moods always always end up badly for the slave. When will I learn??
So, He is reading.. and I start sucking. Sort of. I have my mouth open and I’m barely moving the cock in and out. Very very little effort here. So little in fact that I’m ashamed even to type it. I am such a bitch sometimes.
He manages to maintain an erection though I have no idea how. I mean, the dog licks his butt with more enthusiasm than I was showing. And what was irritating me the most (what always irritates me the most) is how He just….plain…..ignores…. it. So, I upped the ante.
I kept taking His cock out of my mouth(big no-no) to move my hair.. to swallow the build up of spit.. to shift positions.. to rest my jaw. Still..nothing. No reaction.
Talk about maddening! But there was not a chance in hell at that point that I would have asked to stop. No way. No how.
This went on for at least an hour and a half. My jaw was so sore at that point (and remained sore for two days).
Oh yes, I am a stubborn bitch.
Finally, He puts His book down, pushes me away..and I’m thinking “Good, now we can just go to bed, ffs.” Erm.. no. Not yet. He gets up on His knees, pushes me to my hands and knees, grabs the hair.. after a few face slaps and nipple twists to “wake me up”… and starts to vigorously fuck my face. Now, I’ve been sucking His cock for an hour and a half, I’m cramped in places I didn’t know existed and..well damn! It wasn’t supposed to work that way. He was *supposed* to get irritated enough to push me off and flop over to go to sleep. Umm.. yeah.
As He’s pounding my throat.. stretching my mouth (Master is very well-endowed *grins*)… He’s cracking my ass with His huge paddle-like palms… cutting off my breath… reaching down and grabbing dangling tits and squeezing and pulling (days later I’m still sporting fingerprint bruises on my tits..:))… the drool is running down my chin.. a steady stream pooling between my arms.. slicking His cock, coating His balls…
He’s making me fight for air… reinforcing what He owns, His power… my breath, my life, belong to Him. For His pleasure, His amusement, His use.. to take or to give… and He lets me breathe.. when the prickles hit the backs of my eyes, when my body begins to panic.. He pulls back just enough for a small stream of oxygen.. not near enough to satisfy my burning lungs.. not near enough to calm the rising panic.. just enough to keep me conscious.
And I cry… for so many reasons known only to a submissive who is living the power she gave to her Dominant. The pain as His hands claw and pull at my burning boobs, or slap handprints into my ass and thighs… the fear, the helplessness, the overwhelming aspect of knowing that your life belongs to another… the shame of knowing that you’ve disappointed, been less than what you are supposed to be…
And He begins to talk, as His hands grip tightly into my hair and His pelvis beats mercilessly into my face, talking over my chokes and gags…over the heated hiss of the small bits of air I can find.. over the sobs that find their way around the cock filling my mouth.. He talks.
My place as His… my meaning as His. Over and over, He tells me, shows me…until I am nothing. The sobs change from panicky and pain-filled to joy and relief… He cares. He notices. He owns me.
He sits back on the bed a little then.. stroking my face, in all it’s slobber, tear and snot covered glory… His cock jutting stiffly from His body…
“Now make me cum.”
And I do. As I should have in the beginning.