Erotica, BDSM, Fictionalised
The Day he Struck my Ass and Made my Kink, Kinky
I would lay in bed and daydream of a notoriously bad man climbing through the window, tying me up and fucking for his own gratification…
The first time Rik and I meet I can feel his gaze upon me. Stripping me of my clothes. Exposing my body and dissecting my soul. My eyes search his and I’m positive he will be the one to give me what I need. Fulfil my desire to be dominated and tamed. I’m just unsure when that will be.
The second time he announces,
“I’ve come to visit.”
He stands in my doorway dressed for a Bohemian film set. Black hair slicked back. Face alive with questions and answers.
“We’d better get a bottle then.” I reply.
We drink the cold white wine and Rik delves into all that is me; the what and the why. Listening, quick to offer solutions, unnerving me slightly by the hunger shining from his dark brown eyes.
I tell him about my want… no, it’s a need — to be taken, controlled, spanked and used. As he recounts some of his own experiences, I grow in confidence. Elated. Certain, I’ve finally met someone who can actually make my kink — kinky.
I decided long ago I must be slightly warped to crave the kind of sex that passes through my mind on a regular basis. Starting from when I was a teenager, I would lay in bed and daydream of a notoriously bad man climbing through the window, tying me up and fucking for his own gratification. If I dared make a noise, he would slap or even gag me.
Although I felt guilty to own such desires, I never failed to get off on this scenario. Playing the scene through in my mind I’d stroke and probe my cunt until completion. Falling into a deep, satisfied sleep.
When I explain this to Rik he isn’t shocked. He simply nods and trumps my debauched fantasy with one of his own. It seems our imaginations compliment each other. As an adolescent he’d been sent to a monastic school where the monks used harsh corporal punishment on the pupils. Many times he had been beaten — birch, belt, cane — and learned to stifle the tears or be ridiculed as weak.
Growing up his own thoughts turned to inflicting pain on others. The idea made his cock stiff. Finally, he encountered a young woman who wanted him to spank and fuck her. Rik had been only too happy to oblige, so both their needs were met. He often revisited the memory, like a treasured jewel to be examined in private.
Hearing this, I long to gift him another.
I try not to let on, but my heart tells me I could fall for this gorgeous, gentle musician with a beast inside his soul.
Yet, I am not at a place in my life where an attachment can last. However, he is no less attractive in the moment. And, I am a woman first and foremost — there are things I want right now.
My cunt throbs at the sound of his voice and the rough Delta blues songs playing in the background.
There appears to be a bond of understanding between us that I hope will survive its own intensity.
The third time we come together, I light candles. The tongues of flame dance and flicker in the draft from the sitting-room door. Entrancing me. I instinctively rub my arms, and Rik’s response is to pull me close. My back against his chest, his arms cradling my waist. We fit, and I’m aware of his scent. Not out of a bottle; this is the sharp smell of a man’s clean sweat. I inhale, wanting to taste this moment in as many ways as possible.
Rik bites into the back of my neck, sucking hard even as I flinch. His hands flick open the buttons down the front of my blouse. No bra; my breasts meet the chilled air and I watch goosebumps rise on my candlelit skin. He moves, squeezing both nipples until they hurt. Then, he grabs a fistful of my long, blonde waves and wrenches back my head. My breathing quickens as his nails dig into the plump bosom flesh, gashing a strip down the middle, leaving a wake of tiny blood droplets behind. Shocked, I scream. The wound stings and my slit rejoices in the pain, throbbing against my knickers, alive as it drips into the fabric.
Lips crush mine and the passion of our first kiss seals the future.
In moments I’m naked and expectant. Rik removes his belt and orders me to bend over the side of the sofa. I know what is coming and can hardly bear to keep still.
Aching for more of this sweet pain; how it fills me, centres me — clearing my mind of the drivel, the grind, the meaningless, empty hours of everyday living.
I smile at the contradiction, for although I am anything but subservient, here I am, butt-naked, demanding his dominance. There’s a hiss — as the strap cuts through the air — then a dull crack, as hard leather meets the supple skin on my ass and I buck beneath him. Electrified.
“Ask for it.”
I whisper, “More, more, please…”
He obliges and glancing to the side I can see the bulge pulsing in his trousers. He’s taking me where we both need to go. Gently he strokes my smarting bum-cheeks, telling me I am a good girl. I never dreamed how wonderful a few words like that could make me feel. He pulls me towards him. Trapped in his arms, captive, until he whispers for me to kneel.
I know exactly what he wants, and instantly crouch on the floor looking up. My eyes fix on his crotch. Unzipping, his cock springs out in front of my face. I can smell the warm and slight salty aroma. Holding the tip he throws his hips lightly forward and rubs my mouth with the pre-cum.
All the while looking down at me, in lust, in recognition.
My heart feels ready to burst out of my chest. Rik is one of the hottest men I have ever met and stands poised to deliver the triple-x sex I have spent years in search of. I steel myself to revel in the present. All the difficult tomorrows can wait. Raising my eyes I pause, pleading for instruction.
Placing a finger under my chin, so my head tilts very slightly upwards, Rik smiles boyishly. My mouth automatically opens while he steers his dick deep into the moistness, a hand on the back of my head to keep me from moving. The brakes are off. He knows my mouth is his to be used. I silently beg him, with all of my will, to take his pleasure of me, and he does. Sinking, sliding in and out of the warm cunt-like-hole I have made for him, groaning as I moil my lips on his smooth foreskin.
I want to do this right. Desperate to please him to the point where he will spank or belt me again. My fingers search, cup his balls and tease the skin on his thighs. He moans and mutters his soft, filthy commands, good slut, are the only words I can discern.
Finding a rhythm he pumps my face with almost reckless abandon. A jet of hot, bitter fluid tells me he’s peaked. I struggle to breathe as — groaning — he falls back on the sofa and smiles, watching the cum dribble from my lips. Swallowing is not something I have gained much experience at. But, of course, I do it for him. Then, wipe away the traces with the back of my hand.
Passing me some wine, Rik waits for me to take a sip and afterwards we kiss, slow and deep. He tells me next time will be all about my pleasure. My mind reels…
There will be a next time.
This is a fictionalised account of the time when I first met my partner. We were both much younger than we are today!
A true event made into fiction : altered by the addition of fictional elements.
I will leave you to decide what bits I changed.
Another story by May More with Rik