Patience - a dish served cold

I was wanting to patiently (impatiently) wait until the weekend. I was wanting a quiet visit. I had no idea what patient meant...no idea at all...

He pulled them from me over and over until the floor was wet, my thighs wet, my cunt swollen. He grabbed my hair, pulling me to him, pulling it as I came. He thrust his fingers in and out then, intensifying my cumming. I was literally in a puddle. He had to get a towel to mop up. All of a sudden it stopped. I was not permitted to cum anymore. I was sucking his cock and had to keep stopping, bringing myself down, my begging to cum met each time with a no. I knelt between his knees, shaking, holding off the orgasm. I begged again and again and again. He cupped one hand under my chin and angled my face towards his. Eyes locked, I could not turn away.

He lifts his hand and brings it down, slapping my left breast. I try to be quiet. I know I am not. I am whimpering. Please, Sir. Whack. Each time bringing my orgasm closer to the surface. I push my breasts forward wanting more. Please, Sir may I..? Whack. I shake my head. I feel my eyes wide. My cunt is throbbing, dripping on the floor. I am going to cum. God what is going to happen if I cum having been expressly told not to... Please Sir? He shakes his head, eyes flash, NO. Whack. Whack. Whack. Oh God oh God oh God I have never been this close and not tipped over the edge. If I move I am going to cum. Tears roll down my cheeks, our eyes still locked. The tears are from the desperate need to cum. I want him to slap me again and to release me to cum with it. Tears tears more tears. He never lets me cum when I am being whipped or slapped. I needed it so badly. I am shaking, sobbing. He traces my face with his finger, drinking in my distress. My breath sticks in my throat. I have to look away. He stops.

I am sucking his cock again. Victorious. I did not cum. It does not feel victorious. Perhaps he will allow me to take my fill. Perhaps he will cum. He stands. No. I will not cum until the weekend. Until.....(I am still not spilling)....You though, I can see you need more. Sit over the towel and cum until I say to stop. The towel is thrust at me and I cum over and over. He leaves the room and comes back. There, that is enough for you. No more. I tell you it was not what I needed. It was far from it and he knew it. I needed in those moments to cum, not after. Fuck him. Fuck him and the goddamn horse he rode in on.

And that was how the true test of patience began.

He held out his hands and helped me to my feet. We walked outside and had a cigarette. The air was fresh and the wind ripped through me, cooling my damp and overheated skin. My dress was soaked through in sweat and cum, mainly cum - my cum. My hair washed fresh that morning was just dry and now stuck in thick, sweaty, teary chunks to my neck and face. I tied it back, loosely with some pins. I would have to wash it again and it takes all damn day to dry. I stand to leave and present him with the meals I had carefully packed, frozen and labeled.

I had prepared him a meal for each night of the week. All organic and every single thing was handmade, the pastry on the pie, the pasta sheets, the sauces. Everything was touched by my hands.

I pour everything I am into my food. Into my food and into my fucking but maybe moreso into the food.

He walks me to the door and hugs me. He wants me to really feel how grateful he is. I can't stand in it. I can't own it. I want to look away, run out the door. He holds me there and hugs me. "...no. As a person to another person, I really want you to get it. I really want you to get what this means to me..." He is saying. I am nodding, looking at the floor mumbling "I get it" and dying to be in my car. Why am I so uncomfortable?

Finally I escape. I arrive home, shower, husband and I play a bit then we curl up on the couch to eat chinese and watch a movie. The weekend rolls on and is filled in with friends, family, birthdays, backyard soccer, food and laughing.

I know Sir is not alone when he eats because a little bit of me is there too. I get a message about the delicious food and a "good girl". Smiling, I send back a cheeky "aren't I just?" and get away with it too - because I am, aren't I?

Silence

So where were we before I got all distracted with my new trick? That's right, me tied to a spreader bar on the bed, cuffed and gagged with Sir wielding some deadly looking clamps.

He stares into my eyes and places The Mother of all clamps over my whole cunt, sandwiching my clit in the middle. He stares at me, watching my eyes roll back as it snaps shut. I have to say the feeling was exquisite in a very good way. I let out a small shudder. He proceeds to fix pegs where ever he can find spare flesh around the clamp. Then he comes at me with the two small clamps. The first one goes on my right nipple. It hurts but I can bear it. The second one goes on my left nipple and I can not take it. I am whimpering - Sir says I sound like a puppy. I kind of agree but am not in much of a position to comment. I am gagged, tied and in major sensory overload.

The twisted nature of these moments is that when he removes the clamps I look to him as my saviour. He says there will be a punishment for that later. In that moment I could not see past getting the clamp(s) off my nipple and it is gone and he has rescued me.

He walks over to the drawer and pulls out a long sharp white needle about the length of a ruler. He pokes me with it. Pokes my clit with it. I am not liking this game. He rests the needle flat against the top of my thighs.

I don't remember what happened next. I remember him standing beside me, to my right. I remember the look on his face as I lay on the bed, tied to the bar, hands cuffed to the bar, clamped and gagged. I remember I had to move my knees up towards my chest. I don't remember why. I can picture myself lying there and see the confusion spread across my face as my knees draw higher. I see my eyes grow wide, my head start to shake. I look over at him. I understand what he has done, what he is doing. He smiles, nods and chuckles a "MmmmHmmmm." I shake my head. He nods his head. I try to ease into it, looking to him to save me.

The thin white needle rests on my thighs and in the middle it is threaded by a loop to the clamp on my clit.

As my knees draw up, the clamp pulls. I am breathing faster, transfixed by the sensation but the fear is building. The fear is driven by the anticipation of pain. I know once the clamp pulls to a certain point the smaller amount of skin will make it excruciating. I look to him. He smiles and says nothing. I am like a trapped bug in his web. It is blissfully divine. I want to cum but know that if I do it will pull harder on the clamp.

I wish I could remember what it was that was making me draw my knees up. I have a feeling it may have been a cane. Just before I dive into real panic he yanks the clip from me.

I breathe hard.

OMG.

I ask for release but it is denied.

I am freed from my bonds while he uses his hand to bring forth the most intense orgasms. I cum over and over, trying to be silent as he insists. (He tells me later is because it intensifies the orgasm. This I can now attest to.) Holding my breath, I sit up as he is there with his hand in me. I stare into him, looking to him to guide me, direct me, keep me present. I listen and his words wash over me, his eyes locking me in. I am at his will in this moment more than any other. More than when I am tied up, bound, gagged. In this moment I breathe at his will. The word comes, "Now" My eyes roll back and I am spasming, brimming with sound which channels itself all into my cunt grabbing at him, pulling him in. I am thrown back on the bed, gasping. I feel the waves rolling through me from my middle out to my ends. Cum is dripping down my legs, pulsing out of me. The room is full of the smell of sex and fucking.

I am spent.

Eventually I am able to rouse myself enough for a cigarette (though I want it dually noted I don't smoke). The walk down the stairs was tough on my legs.

First Bite

He paused just for a second, I think he was trying to read my face. In one swift movement I was bent over his knee and he was spanking me. Hard. He wound his hand through my hair, pulled my head back and kissed my neck. He stood back from me. Somehow I was kneeling in front of him on the floor. He looked straight into my eyes. I could see in him the most extraordinary amount of danger. My heart beat fast in my chest. I wanted this to stop. I wanted to run. I needed to stay.

"You have been a very bad girl." His voice was controlled, low, clear and terrifying. "You said no to me on the phone the other night. From now on you do not say no to me. Is that clear?"
I nodded "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good Girl. Come here. Put out your arms."

He tied me so my arms were above my head, out to the side. He tied me tight. He ran his hands up my stockings. I shuddered. He touched every inch of my body. He looked into my eyes as he cupped my breasts and grinned as he bit my nipple. I squealed.

"Whatever you do from now on, you ask my permission. Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir."
"Good Girl. See, you will learn fast."

He sucked and bit my nipples until I let out a soft moan. I could not move. There was no give in the restraints I had on my arms. He slid off my stockings. He unclipped my bra. He pulled down my underwear. For a second my mind drifted back to my wedding night, to my husband taking off the same underwear...

With a jolt I was back in the room. His tongue licking, sucking, biting. He devoured my cunt as I stood there shaking, unable to move. I could feel an orgasm build in my belly, the warmth of it spread. My legs started to shake and I was gasping for breath.

He looked up at me, "You will not cum. Is that clear? You will not cum. You do not cum now. Not until I say. Not until I tell you that you are ready."

He sucked my nipples, licked my cunt, fingered my clit. Any thoughts I had about anything other than this moment were gone. He paused for a second, looked into my eyes and slipped his fingers inside me. He was slow, rhythmic, deliberate. He did not touch me except for his fingers inside me. I stood shaking, my knees giving out. Every quiver that went through my legs drew his fingers up inside me. I pushed up onto my toes to try and elude the tightening of my cunt, drawing him in. I looked at him, searching his face with my eyes to see if there was even a small hint of uncertainty. There was not. He watched me as I twisted and pulled, trying to escape. Urging me on to orgasm, forbidding me from plunging over the edge and giving in to it.

The complex play between my pleasure in the absolute abandonment of my own control and my desperate desire to wrestle it back intrigued me even in that moment. I wanted so badly to free my arms, to liberate my body, to cum, to take what I wanted. I wanted also to play the game, to beg him but for him to not give in to me. I needed for this to be on his terms and I hated him for it.

I knew he was driving me to cum, seeing where I would go, if I would do what he was telling me physically to do or what he had demanded of me.

He said once more, softly this time, "You will not cum."

I looked at him, begging, asking, ashamed and ecstatic "Please, please I need this. I need this now. Just let me, take me, just this one right now. I can't stop. I just. Please just stop, let me wait. I just can't...." my voice trailed off and he shook his head. I was breathing in short sharp bursts. I could not keep going.

He locked his eyes with mine and bit into my clit. I let out a low hard groan. His other hand had found my nipple, he squeezed and pulled. He licked my cunt and fingered me hard, hitting right there where it makes my stomach turn and my chest get light. I drove hard against the controls of my mind, trying to fight the pleasures of my body. I could not. My knees gave way, my arms pulled tight, my head threw back and he was there inside me with his hand, my legs shaking, his mouth sucking, drawing out of me every bit of animal I had. As my knees grew weaker it pushed him harder inside me, throwing me into more of a frenzy. I rode the crest, ready to plunge into to the depths and indulge in glorious release. Right there. I was right there. It was in that moment that he withdrew his hands and mouth. He grinned at me, got up and stood a few steps back, admiring my tortured ecstasy .

I must have looked like someone had slapped me in the face. My whole body was on fire. I wanted to punch him - hard. He stood watching as I twisted. My legs were still too weak to weight bear properly. My arms strung out, my nipples hard, panting, trembling, my cunt slick and throbbing. I screamed at him in anger. There were no words. There didn't need to be and I didn't have any to give. I was so angry. I needed to cum. I needed it right now and he took it away from me.

He shook his head. "You will be a good girl for me. You will not cum unless I tell you to. Now for little girls who do not do what they are told there are punishments. I know you. I know everything about you. You want this. You want me to make you beg and you fucking love it." He smiled again. The lines between pleasure and pain, love and hate, they were all blurring. I wanted it and I hated wanting it. I loved it and I hated loving it. "You should not try to cum when you have been told not to. Now I will have to show you what happens to naughty girls."