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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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I didn’t question him, not when he told me to remove my clothes and go out onto our sixth floor balcony, not when he left me standing there, alone, for several minutes, not even when I felt him approach me. I stood, my hands on the railing as he’d instructed, and waited. He remained still behind me, his body close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, but not close enough for him to warm my cooling flesh.
Finally, I felt his fingers trickle down my spine, and my back instinctively arched under his touch. He removed his hand, and again, I waited, silent.
I felt his breath, hot against my ear, “Good girl.”
My nipples hardened immediately, as they always did when he said those words. I smiled to myself, careful to keep my reaction from showing visibly, As always I was content simply knowing that I pleased him. His hand slid down my shoulder, down my arm, and to my hand, which he efficiently fastened to the rail with a length of nylon rope.
I breathed in sharply, realizing his intention, but still I did not move. I did not question. Instead I waited, calming my breath, as he fastened my other hand to the rail. The ropes were tight, and I felt the nylon rub roughly against the skin of my wrist.
“Spread your legs,” he whispered.
I opened my legs wider, leaving plenty of room between them for whatever he intended.
I felt his absence immediately, and I realized he had left me alone again on the balcony. Only this time, I would be unable to cover myself if someone happened to see me.
Minutes passed, how many it was impossible to know. I entertained myself by watching the traffic and people on the street below. We were on our second visit to San Antonio, and our hotel room, as he had specifically requested, looked out over the River Walk. Standing there, I realized why he had wanted the room- not to view the River walk, as I had previously thought, but so that the River walk could view me. I didn’t know whether I was more embarrassed or aroused, and I suspected that had been his intention.
Finally, I heard the rustle of movement behind me. I did not turn my head because I knew from experience that if I moved from my instructed position, I would be punished. So instead, I stood and waited for him to reveal his intentions.
It didn’t take long. A quick cut through the air and the sting of a flogger landed across my back. My breath caught more from the surprise than the pain. Another lash across my ass cheeks, and I knew instinctively that the next would land across my thighs. He knew the sting aroused me, and I knew the power he felt striking me with the flogger aroused him.
I lost count of the lashes as he covered my skin, striking as much as he could. I did not move. He had trained me well, and I could accept his floggings without a flinch, though it had taken many practices.
“Good girl,” he whispered, setting the flogger down on a nearby chair. “You like that people can see you, can see you naked and being flogged, can see you like the slut you are.”
I sucked in a breath at his words. It did turn me on being so vulnerable and exposed in such a precarious location. I no longer cared that someone might see me because I was so focused on him. The cool breeze against the sting of my skin was almost shocking, and it aroused me even more.
I felt his hand slide down my hip, down my thigh and over my knee to my calf. I loved the way his hands felt on my body- the contrasts in him from pain to tenderness. Sometimes he would spank me so hard that I cried, other times he didn’t strike me at all, but always he followed with a tender touch, reassuring me.
He had one hand on each ankle and slowly, inch by inch, slid them up my legs until his fingers rested just under my ass. I felt his breath on the small of my back, and I knew he was kneeling behind me. Gently, his fingers reached between my legs, separating my labia and opening my pussy. One finger slightly dipped into my cunt, and I knew he would find it wet.
He laughed, and I felt the rumble of it against my back. “You’re wet from standing here and getting flogged. Such a slut.” With that, he bit down, hard, on the flesh of my right hip. My body tightened as I attempted to control my reaction. Being bitten was my weakness, and he knew it.
He bit down on my other hip, just as he pushed two fingers completely into my pussy. It took all my focus to remain quiet and still.
“You can speak now, pet. Do you like this?”
“Oh yes, Sir,” I sighed, grateful to at least be allowed to make noise again.
“I have a surprise for you. Would you like to see it?”
“Oh yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he said, removing his fingers from me. I felt empty without him inside me, but I bit my lip to keep any sign of protest from escaping.
I felt something push into me; I expected it to be a dildo, but I soon realized it was a small egg that fit nicely inside my pussy.
“Close your legs and hold it in,” he told me as he moved away. “Do not move, but feel free to speak. I want to hear your moans.” Again, I found myself alone on the balcony, and I wondered what he meant about hearing me moan. My questions were answered when the vibrations began: he was controlling the egg with a remote from inside the hotel room. Just the idea of it made me moan, but the pleasure of the vibrating egg made me whimper. I held my body still as an orgasm began to build inside me. The vibrations increased, and I knew he was watching me, reading my body to see what I needed.
“Oh God,” I cried as the climax rolled through me. But still the vibrations continued, and my body quivered both from the tension of holding still and from the pleasure of another building orgasm. He had trained me to give into my orgasms, to come as often as he allowed me to.
The vibrations stopped after the second orgasm; I struggled to return my breathing to normal and to keep my body upright. I was relaxed and weak, my limbs heavy. Just as I had regained my composure, the fastest vibrations yet ripped through my pussy, moving quickly through my body.
“Do not come.”
My mind immediately drifted, trying to detach from the sensations in my pussy.
“Kneel.”
Carefully, slowly, so as not to disturb the egg, I kneeled in front of the railing and waited.
He moved next to me, and I saw that he, too, was naked. I smiled mentally, knowing what he would ask of me.
“Turn toward me.” Awkwardly, I shifted my body as best as I could, turning my face even further toward him. It was an uncomfortable position, and I knew he wanted it to be.
He reached into my hair, fisting it tightly, and pulled my head roughly toward his cock. I opened my mouth for him, and he thrust his cock between my lips, fucking my face as he had fucked my pussy numerous times: without restraint or mercy. I struggled to keep up with his pace, to keep my head turned enough toward him because his fist in my hair gave me no room for failure. There is no technique to having one’s face fucked, there is no slow exploration of his cock or teasing licks and strokes; it is only accepting what is given. The steady buzz in my cunt barely registered, I was so entirely focused on pleasing him.
Just as I sensed the tightness in his body that indicated his impending orgasm, he pulled abruptly back from my face, his hand releasing my hair.
“Stand up and lean over the rail. I want your ass.”
I quickly obeyed, careful not to dislodge the still vibrating egg. I leaned over the railing, my breasts resting on the cool metal, and I became intensely aware of how many people could potentially see me getting fucked in the ass, only six floors up from the crowded San Antonio streets.
Behind me, I heard him lubing his cock, and I shivered knowing how much he enjoyed anal sex. His hand reached into my hair again and I knew he was anchoring himself. His other hand held tight to my hip as he gradually slid into my ass, and I tried to relax around him. I knew he could feel the vibrations of the egg against his cock. He began to move, in and out, small thrusts at first and then deeper, fuller strokes.
I moaned, and he whispered, “Good girl. Count to ten, and then come for me, baby.”
Silently, I began my count, focusing my mind and my body on the pleasure of the egg in my cunt and his cock in my ass. When I reached five, he slipped his hand from my hip to my clit, stroking across it with urgency. I knew he must be close to his own orgasm. My body trembled beneath him, the orgasm building and building until I could give into it.
“That’s it, baby,” he moaned. Hearing the pleasure in his voice, I could no longer hold back my orgasm, and my whole body quivered in climax. Behind me, he plunged a final time into my ass and came inside me. I gasped, my breath coming fast, as I tried to regain control of my body.
He turned off the egg and gently removed it from my pussy. He untied my hands next, stroking his fingers over the marks left on my skin from the rope.
“Beautiful,” he said and smiled. |
