Playing at the W, Part III

by Staff Writer

“Should I be kind to you? You’d like that wouldn’t you? For me to kiss those wounds, tell you you’ll be alright.” You spun me around to face you, and pushed me back against the armoire. I felt my wounds ache against the beveled doors. “Well, I’m not sure you will be. I don’t intend to make this easy for you. And I would be terribly disappointed if you made it easy for me.” As you spoke, your lips brushed mine, and then you stole another kiss. This time, I felt you put your entire weight into me, pushing the air from my body.

Your hands reached up to release my binds and you led me to the chair near the window. You brought my hands around your waist and refastened the binds behind your back. I could feel your cock press up against my belly as we stood together. “Get on your knees.” You grabbed my shoulder and forced me to kneel, as I tried to maintain my balance. You sat down in the chair. My hands were pinned behind you and I was pulled toward your lap. I turned my head to avoid your cock, and you enjoyed the brush of my hair against your shaft.

You stroked my cheek gently for a moment, examining the welt you had left earlier. You laughed. I glared at you and pulled away, but your hand ran through my hair to the back. “Open your mouth,” you said as you pulled my hair to the nape of my neck. I refused. You pulled hard at my hair and my mouth opened briefly. “You’ll suck my cock like a good girl, or you’ll pay for it. And, my sweet bitch, you’re pretty little face will get the brunt of it.” I knew I had little choice but to obey you, but I wasn’t ready to submit. Still, I playfully ran my tongue along the tip of your shaft and took you into my mouth quickly. Your hand guided me over your shaft until I felt it press against the back of my throat. My body convulsed momentarily as I gagged, but you thrust harder and deeper into me. Losing control of how I would suck you off created a heat between my legs that I could feel course up my spine. I could taste bitter drops of you the more you thrust, and I knew you were enjoying yourself. I couldn’t have you coming so soon, with me barely moist. I wanted to scare you, to take away you away from that place, so I playfully bit near the base of your cock. You gasped, anticipating a much more vicious attempt. You wanted to throw me backward, but I was still bound to your waist. Instinctively, you clasped both hands around my neck. My eyes watered and I grew dizzy, intoxicated by the deprivation. You unbound my hands. Your drink spilled onto the floor as you bent me over the table. I could feel your cock, still hard, behind me.

“That was quite the mood kill, darling. You should be more careful next time. Perhaps we’ll have to dedicate an entire evening to the practice of that so that you don’t make such a mistake again.” You didn’t hesitate for a moment to shove your already wet cock into my ass. I cried out and felt pain shoot down my legs and up my spine. You pulled my hips into you as you fucked me. I gripped the table harder with each thrust and began moaning lowly.

“Have I beaten you? Have you had enough my pet?” you whispered as you drove deeper into me.

“You’re a pathetic fuck,” I managed to utter.

You laughed. “Your emotions betray you. Let’s see how far they take you.” You withdrew from me and threw me on the bed. You straddled me and began fastening me to the bed, first my wrists and then my ankles. I felt so vulnerable naked and spread for you, and as much as I wanted to ask what you were going to do with me, I didn’t. I quit my sobs. I tried my best not to recall the whip with the metal ends as I awaited your return. But, when I saw you look at my body, I knew that you had it at your side without even looking down. You climbed in between my spread legs and drew back your hand to slide it across my breasts. I let out a low, angry moan and my hid my face beneath my arm. You struck me with care and my moan grew louder and higher-pitched.

“Beg me to stop.”

“I will when it starts to hurt.”

You laughed and struck me again, this time letting the metal tips claw at my breasts. Welts formed quickly and grew worse than the ones on my back in only five blows. You enjoy watching my body writhe and my breath waiver in anticipation of you. I had closed my eyes, not wanting to watch your enjoyment. Instead, I wanted to let the pain flow through me and excite me, only as concentrating on it would allow. You threw the whip down after a sixth fierce blow and drove your fingers into my wet pussy. You continue thrusting and working your fist into me, though I moaned and squirmed to avoid it. I felt you enter me, and begin using your other hand to alternate between fingering my clit and my ass. Finally, I gave myself over to you, and wanted nothing more than to feel your cock inside me. I begged you to make me come again.

You stopped suddenly and drove your cock into me. With each thrust I felt us get closer to that release. You breath quickened at my ear, your kiss grew more intense and voracious. Your hands ran up the sides of my body to my still-bound arms and you forced your weight onto them. I felt you pulse and thrust harder into my belly. I quivered beneath you and you collapsed on top of me, letting our warmth mingle while we regained our composure.

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13 Responses to “Playing at the W, Part III”

  1. tom paine Says:

    The capacity to absorb pain during pleasure is still a mystery to me. I was raised to be nice to women. I didn’t realize until I read Faulkner’s The Sound & the Fury that women don’t want men to be nice to them.

  2. Lola David Says:

    Yes, I’ve encountered such chivalrous notions before…it isn’t for everyone. In large part there are some inexperienced “sexual supermen” who are looking to try this sort of play out on a woman.

    It is rare to find a partner/playmate that is older who has gotten past the “she’s so delicate…I can’t hit a woman” philosophy. Happily, I’ve got J, who knows that it’s more than just smacking me around. It’s about tempo, pace, anticipation, prolonging of the experience, emotional limits, etc…

  3. tom paine Says:

    I can smack your bottom to your heart’s content. But I don’t wish to confront the demons that lurk inside my soul. It’s why I would not own a pistol unless I lived out in the woods: I’m too worried, like the gun in any movie, that I would use it, perhaps even on myself someday.
    I admire you and J in your ability to handle the high theater of BDSM, where knowing one’s limits is paramount. I know mine.

  4. Lola David Says:

    Actually, it’s my back that I prefer to have flogged. I usually keep this very private, but I carry great tension in my shoulders plus have an old back trauma (hey, maybe I’ll write my own Sex & Aging column!). Anyway, the flogging against my back is better than massage. The euphoria that results from that or the regular “cupping” that I pay to have done is incredible…

    I’m not a fan of the term, “high theatre” or “acting” when it comes to BDSM. To me, it is an opening of the subconscious: desires, limits, emotions, etc. We may assume a role in that in order to release the things I mentioned above, but it is secondary.

  5. tom paine Says:

    I’m learning more about your fetish, lovely Lola. Don’t give up on massage. While I sent C. off to another massage today (lovely to think of another man’s hands touching her flesh), she has said of me that the hands of Jack the Ripper inhabit my own hands. I’m good at relieving kinks, though I suspect you have too many (kinks) for me to remove them entirely.
    What size flogger? Ours is about cock-length.

  6. anonymous Says:

    So much of this particular world is dependent upon perceived value…sometimes the most sensual is the most obscure…and therefore sublime, once recognized…this is true in love, as well as in fetish. Thus being “nice” is not always appropriate…no?

  7. Lola David Says:

    Our flogger is much different looking. Click on the description of the one I mention in the story. That’s one of them. Another we have is quite a bit longer. It’s all about the material, ultimately. Stings, welts, or just the sensation…

    Anonymous–Nice is sometimes the easiest way to reveal love and your emotions for a partner. All of these other ways I mention are the most enticing at least to me. But, make no mistake, there is love at the core of all BDSM that J and I partake in.

  8. tom paine Says:

    Yikes, that thing looks dangerous. The mfg’s warning would imply it can cut the skin!
    How ’bout if I just spank your lovely ass and fuck you senseless???

  9. Lola David Says:

    It takes a skilled touch, to be sure. My bum is already sore from a spanking yesterday–so I’ll take a raincheck for now…

  10. tom paine Says:

    OK, no spanking, just senseless?

  11. Between the Sheets » Blog Archive » Sugasm #59 Says:

    [...] Sugasm #59 December 19th, 2006 by Lola David I’m happy to say that I’m in this week’s Sugasm again–though I took a risk in entering my Playing at the W, Part III ( series. It was a little intense, even to experience. It has its own niche of readers. Anyway, enjoy the stories! [...]

  12. Sugasm: A Devilish Digest » Blog Archive » Sugasm #59 Says:

    [...] BDSM and Fetish A Nawty Story: Jenny’s New Slave (…) Dishonourable Discharge (…) Leaving on a Jet Plane (…) Morning masturbation (…) Naval floggings: the girls take their turn (…) Playing at the W, Part III (…) Split Penis, Anyone? (Editor’s note: Don’t say we didn’t warn you.) (…) [...]

  13. Talk To Vanessa » Blog Archive » Sugasm #59 Says:

    [...] Naval floggings: the girls take their turn ( Playing at the W, Part III ( Split Penis, Anyone? (Editor’s note: Don’t say we didn’t warn [...]

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