The Dom's Diary: Ladies First

The weather in the midwest might not be the scorcher it usually is this time of year, but Thorne and Cla'vis don't seem to have noticed. It's 'Ladies First' according to him...you might need your air conditioner after all.

Ladies First

by 

Abyrne Mostyn

                She stifled a low groan, but didn’t say a word.  She moved gracefully, hands still behind her back, to the tilt table.  I had seen the flash in her eyes, but didn’t have enough information to know if it was for getting to go first, or for getting to have the last word.  Knowing what I knew of her, I was betting on the latter. 

                Reaching the end of the table she stood, unsure of my intentions.  Taking the soft restraint of her bra away and setting it aside, I lifted her to the table.  Laying her back, I traced up the insides of her arms as I raised her hands up and overhead to the far end, using the eyebolts in the frame and the suede straps that hung there to refasten her hands out of my way. 

                “What is your pleasure Pallaca?”

                “Make me cum if you can Thorne.”

                “Challenge accepted.”

                I had a sneaking suspicion she preferred to be in control.  I also believed she was not one to give it up without knowing she still held some vestige of it.  I wanted her to give it to me.  I needed her to.

                “Are there boundaries I need to know?”

                “No Sadism and no head-fucks.  You don’t know me well enough yet to use either of them.  No fire play and no knife play.  The rest is fair game.”

                “Good to know.   Agreed.  How do you want to cue?”

                “Orally.”

                Her grin was pure mischief.

                “Orally it is.  Color codes or something else?”

                “Stoplight is fine and easy enough.  I’m green.  Go, go…go.  Now, before I change my mind.”

                It was my turn to grin.  I was fairly certain she wasn’t going anywhere until I freed her, but not knowing fully the room or the player I was entertaining, she might know something I didn’t.

                “Que vous le souhaitez, Pallaca.”

                I found everything I needed on a table near the wall.  A soft scarf, black as midnight would do well to take away at least one sense and I grabbed it to blindfold her immediately. 

                “Hard or soft Pallaca?”

                “You’ll know when you figure it out won’t you?”

                I could feel her taunt all the way through my balls.  She was not giving away anything, instead waiting to see what I would do.  Taking the scarf and slipping it under her neck before bringing it up and across her eyes I wanted to taunt her back, to tell her that she would call my name before she left the table, but instead tied the blind after lifting her hair to drape the end of the table and dabbing the tip of her upturned nose with my finger.

                I loved the versatility of tilt tables.  I had one of my own at home, but mine was covered in heavy leather.  Walking around this one as I debated, I noticed a few things that were not common and smiled to think of Maxim and his handy work.  Another of his designs I was sure. 

Just as I turned to return to the table of toys, Ellis entered with our drinks.  He did not give Cla’vis on the table, or I standing nude fully erect beside her a second glance.  It would take some time to get used to the levels of acceptance here.  It was so foreign a concept.  Welcome, but foreign.

I noticed that Cla’vis took her whiskey on the rocks.  How advantageous.  Grabbing the ankle bar, I set it under and behind the lower table legs before dropping the legs end off the table and securing her ankles in the leather cuffs.  I had adjusted the middle to support the small of her back too before latching the final cuff to the bar leaving her lying on the table immobile.  She was a pretty picture lying there, arms over head, legs spread by virtue of the bar and not enough room to wiggle. 

Taking her drink, I brought it closer to the tilt, before taking a cube and running it along the seam of her lips.

“Ellis was here.”

She accepted the cube and sucked on it while I moved on to other things.  Taking a second cube, I ran it from her lips, down the side of her throat, between her breasts toward her navel and lower as I leaned in to suckle at the hard beads of her nipples.  Bringing the glass over, I set it to stand on her sternum while I nipped and sucked at the hard points that grew harder with the cold between them.

“Don’t spill.”

I had debated for all of a minute if fire play included wax before I decided it didn’t.  Sliding a cube across her abdomen, I used the bottom of the glass to cover the surface with the cool water that remained once it had melted.  I slipped another cube into her mouth before taking the glass to the table and coming back with a thin taper, wick aglow.  I would love to see her eyes, but I didn’t want her to be too ready.

Starting several feet above her, I tipped the candle and ran a thin bead of wax down her sternum.  Her quick, short inhale through her nose betrayed her shock. 

“Color?”

“Green.”

Watching from the side, I had noticed too the quick clench and release of her lower lips, but only the top.  I would need a better view.  I was pleased.  Padding back to the table I took more of her ice cubes, bringing them back and setting two of them across the tips of her breasts.  I believe it was no accident the The Manse used round cubes that had holes in the middle.  The pert tight discs seemed to tighten further and the erect beads stood taller under the frozen blocks.  I dripped wax from her sternum around and across both breasts as I watched the cubes melt and the water trickle to the sides pooling in the center between them.

Her breathing was deeper, and if I listened carefully, occasionally hitched with new drops of wax or a fresh cube.  Scooting around the end of the table, I brought my play lower, dancing a cube across the fine line of groomed hair that dusted the cleft of her sex.  Taking my time with the cube before bringing it to skim the bright pink, wet, goose-bumped evidence of her arousal, I dragged the cube from cleft to anus and back up, keeping contact with the knot of nerves at the top before dropping a line of fresh wax across the soft tissue above it. 

Her intake of air was oral now, not nasal and the slow, steady, deep breaths changed over to quick, short pants.  A few drops later I extinguished the flame and set the candle aside.  I had been watching the sweet cream weep from her core for the last few drops of wax and couldn’t stand the distance any more.  I had to taste her.  It was empirical need.

Shifting the segment of table to tilt her hips up, I adjusted them just enough so she was at the right level as I knelt on a cushion at the end.  Icing her hot button, teasing it out from under the hood further, I popped the cube into my mouth before pulling back and spanking the rigid bean tightly with wet fingers.  She jumped as much as the bounds would allow.  The tight bead shot up angry red, which was exactly what I wanted.  Biting down and sucking in, it was a pleasure shared as I felt another trickle of her need ski down the cleft of my chin.

Control is one thing, denial another.  I could wait no longer and slid down, using the sweet cream her body wept to soften the brush of evening beard against her delicate tissues as I dropped to have my reward.  Laving long and slow, my tongue still cold from the remnants of ice, the hot and cold dichotomy danced across my tongue and slid down my throat as thickened cream.  I felt her clench against my cheeks.  Pausing to listen to her breathing, she was still panting and it was faster, but not the hard hitching breaths I wanted to hear.

Dropping farther still, I flicked the rosebud of her anus with the tip of my tongue, lapping upwards as the milky cream breached the entrance that her form held open whenever it threatened to run past me.  Pinching off my own release first as her responses spurred me on, I reached up to agitate the already angry bead at the top, working it in tight circles with drenched fingers while reaming her properly with teeth, lips, and tongue.  An ice cube on my finger as I popped thru the tight curl of her back door and another on my tongue when I moved up and speared her core at the same time sped and hardened her pants pushing me to continue.  Turning wet fingers in a tighter circle, tongue and finger fucking her simultaneously, her breath hitched several times and came harder as did the clenches of her cunt against my mouth.

My face was awash, her breathing erratic, and she was riding the edge like a champion bull rider holding out for eight seconds.  So, I stopped.

“Color?”

“OHMYGODS REALLY?  GREEN.  GREEN. GREEN.”

She couldn’t see my smirk and should have known that I was no fool.  I knew how close she was and wanted just that slight hesitation to drive her higher.  Flipping the switch to silent and then to ‘on’, I moved the ‘magic wand’ over her red, swollen, and abused clit, touching down only after resuming my tongue and finger fucking of her cunt and ass.  Lightning couldn’t have struck harder.  She jumped and melted all at the same time, bathing my face and lower hand in cum in a hot rush of hard release.  I didn’t stop.

When she needed to breathe, I pulled the wand free just long enough to hear her get a deep intake before landing it again.  She was a volcano in full eruption.  Pulse after pulse of hot cum came from her core and I sucked and laved as much as I could get, letting just enough drift lower to coat my fingers allowing a second one to breach her. 

I lost count of her releases.  It was only when she began shouting that I stopped.  I couldn’t understand why, even with a blindfold she would call out…

“Maisu. Maisu. Maisu.”