Jacked Up

I couldn’t sleep after our first chat. I imagined our first meeting. My nipples and pussy ached for his touch. I could feel him behind me, his breath on my neck, lips brushing lightly and slowly, running down from my ear to the nape. He leaned into me, pressing me into the hotel railing as he ran his strong hands along my body; one hand sliding up to my breast as the other reached around the front of my thigh. Could anyone see us? My heart raced and I became embarrassed by the way my breath turned to obvious panting. He said, “That’s right, you crave my touch – you know I am in control of your body.” He grabbed my neck firmly between his teeth, claiming me, and I bent my head in submission, as he thrust two fingers up inside of me. I gasped as he drew my silkiness in circles around my clit, along my lips and back inside again. I became dizzy and shook with excitement and he repeated, “Yes, that’s it, that’s it.” My legs weakened and I melted in his arms.
He smiled, and took me by the hand and led me in a slow dance across the floor of our candlelit room to the erotic sounds of the saxophone. As we swayed, he said to me, “I am going to make you mine tonight and you will know pleasure as you have never known before.” He had danced us over to the over-stuffed, armless chair in the corner and as he sat he pulled me down to sit on his lap, enfolded in his strong arms. He caressed me as he spoke and his commanding voice hypnotized me and I accepted his authority. He put his hand between my knees and gently but firmly spread my legs as he found my clit again. He bent his head, licking and sucking my nipples which are so, so sensitive. My head rolled back and as he held the back of my neck, he covered my throat with his mouth and held firmly with his teeth as he thrust his strong fingers inside of me again. When he pulled them out, I soaked our thighs with my silky wetness. He just kept it up, slow and deep, until I thought I would die of passion. He commanded me to not cum until he said I could and kissed me until I swooned.
As I became this quivering mass of erotic nerves, he began to speak, in that confident, dominant voice. My whole existence became his touch and his voice. He told me to stand up before him. He said that there would be more than pleasure between us as he rubbed his finger back and forth along my now soaking lips. He said, “Turn around and bend over,” which he knew I was too shy to do. Yet, he was going to ask everything of me, especially what was difficult. He said my hesitation had earned me more than just an otk spanking. He required my full obedience and full surrender and he asked me to tell him if I understood why I was going to be spanked. This was even worse. My face flushed with embarrassment, but I wanted to please him; I needed him to know that I would submit to his authority over me. I said, ” Yes, I know you are going to spank me to show me that you are my boss, my guide, my man, and to claim me as your woman.” “Turn around and bend over.” “Yes, Sir.” He lifted my dress up over my bottom, laid it on my back, and pulled my panties down to my thighs, so my bare behind faced him, framed in my garter and stockings. He ran his hands over my cheeks and spread them telling me he could see me this way whenever he wanted and that he had plans for me as he brushed a finger over my small hole.
With that, he pulled me back onto his lap, but this time, bottom up. He began smacking each cheek, sometimes lightly, sometimes harder, completely covering my bottom, thighs, and that sit spot, turning me pink. He told me that with him, I was going to be the woman I wanted to be. He was going to protect me from my weakness and guide me to be better. He was going to ensure that we were happy even if that meant that sometimes he would punish me as much as I needed and deserved. He told me that tonight, he was going to make certain I remembered what would happen if I failed to obey him. He began to smack my bottom so hard, I could feel his handprints warming then burning hot. He had told me that on this first meeting, he was going to spank me until he knew I had surrendered to him – let his will dominate mine, so that even his voice or an email would command me to do his bidding. It began to hurt a bit, but I have such a high tolerance for pain, this was only a warm-up.
He told me to stand in front of him again, and to turn around and bend over. He thrust his fingers into me and commented on how wet I was. He told me to stand facing the corner and he took my dress off, leaving me in heels, stockings, garter and bra. I began to feel a surge of anger, even though I had agreed to this, needed this, and even asked for this. He was getting to me. A few spanks couldn’t do that, and he was smart enough and patient enough, to have learned how to dominate my mind. He was watching me and sensed my resistance, and he knew what to do next…

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Jacked Up, 9.0 out of 10 based on 2 ratings

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