Wednesday, August 7, 2013

The Dom's Diary: Drip, Drip, Drip

Thorne sure seemed to know how to please Cla'vis. After her skill on display with Yessenia, do we think she has what it takes to please him in return? How do you dominate a Dom? Let's find out.

Drip, Drip, Drip.
Abyrne Mostyn
                She didn’t speak for a long time, but that could have been her recovering.  I put away the wand and unclasped her ankles before removing the blind and freeing her hands, helping her to sit up.  She spoke after she collected herself and regained somewhat normal breathing.
                “Maisu is an old word.  Like Pallaca means mistress, Maisu means master.”
                I nodded as I took in the meaning of the word she had shouted.  Not the usual ‘Sir’ I heard from my subs, but in some ways a better and more fitting word.  I had to wonder if Maxim had also mastered her or if the term was used from respect by all here.  Naobi had addressed him as Maisu, but had not seemed bothered when Cla’vis also did that first night.  I would be thinking on this another time as her movements caught my attention.  She had gotten off the table before I noticed to help her down. 
In the far corner of the room she was rifling through a bag.  Walking up behind her, I couldn’t see what she was doing, but her ass was calling me.  Reaching out to knead the round globes, she leaned back for a moment before addressing me.
      “You like my ass.”
      “Tell me something you don’t already know.”
      “Let me get a placeholder for you then.”
      I didn’t process the reference until she turned, wicked gleam in her eye, and showed me a jeweled plug.  Stepping back, while I watched, she ran it through and between the still shiny, wet lips of her cunt before turning, bending over and inserting it tight to her backdoor, wiggling a spot in front of me to set it before she stood upright again.  I nearly blew right then, so fucking hot.
     “Am I to understand you want to be fucked there?  Is that the ‘place’ you’re holding for me?”
     “My dear Thorne...”
     “Not Maisu now?”
     Her grin was fireworks bright.
     “Que vous le souhaitez.  My dear Maisu, I believe it is my turn now.  I’ll not tip my hand any more than you tipped yours.”
     Leading me by the hand, we returned to the tilt table.  I watched as she reset the lower end, brought up an extended end to the top and tilted it to stand nearly vertical.  Following her gestures, I was backed up to the table, my arms secured to the sides, ankles to the lower corners and a garrote set about my neck.
     “Anything off limits I should be aware of?”
     She was not mocking, but it was amusing to hear her using my same words.
     “How about we follow the same guidelines you set?”
     I had little compulsion about giving away control or power to her.  I had seen her wield a whip and knew what she could do.  So I thought.  It was the work of a moment before she had tightened the garrote to a shade past snug and gotten her split-9 from where she had laid it down when we entered.
     “Not my cock.”
     “Agreed.  Hard or soft?”
      I couldn’t help but return her words to her.  They were, after all, appropriate.
    “You’ll know when you figure it out won’t you?”
     Without another word she pulled back and let the eighteen tails fly across my thighs.  The lashes bit and the softer tails seemed to kiss as they fell together, a heady combination.  I had seldom been whipped by another since learning how to throw, and even those times were far, far between.  I enjoyed the release and liberation of the long tail flogging when done by someone who knew how to control the lashes.  She was adept.  Controlling eighteen tails simultaneously, she threw as though it were a single.  I was completely turned on to watch her throw and could feel my cock straining to be worked.  The lashing would take longer than I wanted to wait, but I was not in control, so I leaned back and let her throw. 
     Seeing her with Yessenia from behind had been amazing to watch.  Seeing her, full frontal, throwing at me was nearly enough to have me releasing without her touching me at all.  Mustering every thought I could to reduce the urgent need, I could feel the drip, drip, drip of perspiration falling from my face after beading up from the effort.  Closing my eyes, I split my focus to feel and to stop feeling at the same time.  If she had plans for more, I was going to be fully present for all of them.
     “Hold the sides.”
     I opened my eyes at her words.  She was standing next to the table and I heard the hiss of the hydraulic as the head was lowered, the feet were raised, and I was laid flat.  She loosened the garrote but not my wrists, though I didn’t need to hold on anymore now that the change was done.  I didn’t know how much time had passed, but judging by the red stripes that remained, she’d thrown a good while.  It was a pleasure pain, and I welcomed it, groaning appreciatively at the evidence of her skill.  She had gone above, below, and completely around my cock without a stray stripe.
     The next that I saw her, she had climbed up the foot of the table and was kneeling between my knees, a long string of pearls dangling from her hand.  I had seen her in a pearl thong the first night.  Beautiful.  I wondered if she was going to wear or insert this strand to tease me, and I said so.
     “Putting on your best pearls for me Pallaca?”
     She laughed.
     “No Maisu, you’re going to wear them for me.”
     I must have shown my shock at her words.  Her face was the morning sun on the windshield and mischievous as I’d ever seen it.  With much ado, pomp and circumstance, I watched her drop the bottom loop under my scrotum and begin crisscrossing it up my cock, coiling it over and onto itself to the tip, and back down to where it began.  With a Cheshire grin, she leaned down and began a slow suction of the head.  It was bliss.  It was agony.  I wanted more.
     She lingered for a long while, letting pre-cum and saliva roll down the beads to the base.  When she seemed to be satisfied, she opened her mouth and dropped wholly over it, closing her lips with a lick at the bottom.  I think my eyes rolled back into my head.  The sensations of suction and the wet rolling of the individual pearls along with her tongue was hedonism. 
     She laved her tongue against the wet beads and swallowed.  The pressure of the action was tight misery and euphoria all together.  I know I moaned.  I couldn’t help it.  Swallowing again, she paused before beginning a long slow stroking with her mouth up and down the pearls, keeping a choke hold on the base and my balls.  I was going to go nuclear when she set them free, I could feel them tightening up already though I didn’t think they could wind up any harder.
     It was all I could do not to thrust.  I had started to, but as soon as I did, she stopped.  Lying still was agonizing.  I wanted to cum.  I wanted to fuck her mouth encased in the pearls just the way she had it.  She was a master.  I could only try to hold still and pant, completely at her mercy.  She sped up and she slowed down, all in reaction to me.  She played me like a Stratavarius, and I would have sang too if she had asked. 
The last time she sped up, I thought she was going to let me cum.  She wasn’t.  She took me straight to the edge and danced me there in the wind until the precipice began to slip away, the growl building in my gut.  Then, she stopped.   Opening wide, she dropped the whole of my shaft, still standing tall, out into the cool air of the room.  It was nearly painful to be out of her warm, wet mouth.  Taking up the tail end of the strand from the base, twisting it over itself in her fingers, I could only watch as she tightened the strand and shut down my ability to satisfy the lingering, urgent need to release. 
     Shifting her weight from one knee to the other as she moved up to straddle my hips, I again could only watch as she twisted the strand and tightened it down further just before she lanced herself through with one slick stroke and buried my cock balls deep.  When seated fully she rocked a slow, languorous rhythm back and forth, up and down.  I watched the tears of perspiration dot her flesh, then commune to trail and sluice the valley of her breasts before falling off.  I felt the sting of the salt in the still raw stripes from her lashes.  Her mouth hung open and her pants seemed to echo a second behind my own, mine on the down stroke, hers on the up. 
     It was a brutal tease.  Each time I got to the edge and ready to cum, she tightened the strand and hovered at the top of the stroke staying the release at the base of my shaft by keeping a vise grip to my balls with the long strand, leaving no doubt, she was controlling the ride.  I lost track of how many times I'd surrendered my release to her ministrations.  She was a wicked task master.  Twisting twice on the strand, I watched in near agony as she bucked and came wildly, my own release shut down.  I felt the knot start north and stop abruptly at the ring of pearls she held fisted while she rode, my whole body tied up in those little ominous beads.
     I had begun to believe I wasn't going to get to cum at all.  Just about then, with slow deliberation she raised a final time, unwinding the pearls, lifting them away as she stood and dismounted slowly, taking care to remove the lowest loop before she set them aside.  Each roll unwinding was an agony, but I was determined not to cum until I was once again inside her.  It was a battle of wills I had to win.
     Her smile was conspiratorial as she stepped back a step to straddle closer to my hips, and turned around.  With purposeful movements, she bent slightly giving me full view of the saturated, swollen center of her.  She reached back and slid the jeweled plug free, bending all the way over to set it on the table between my feet.  I watched in wanting torment as she slid two fingers between her lips, dipped into her weeping core, and pulled them free with the remnants of her release. I watched her reach back and slowly lube the vacancy left by the plug with what was on her fingers.  In and out she worked the cream and as she worked   I watched more cream wet and trickle between her legs.
     I was ready to beg.  I wanted to pull her down and have her ride my face.  She had other plans.  As I watched, she sank to her knees, then reached back and grabbed my cock.  She leaned back just enough to seat the crown at her now wet and ready anus before torturing me slowly…sitting down completely in agonizing slow motion, reverse cow-girling me with her ass.  I heard my growling moan as it echoed back.
     She tipped her head back just enough to make eye contact, her hair pooling across my chest.  I didn’t need to see her entire face to know she wore a wicked smile.  Her eyes said everything.
     “Yes Maisu.  I plan to.”