Page 27 of Hurts So Good

The muscle around my thumb tightens its grip.

I sigh with feigned disappointment; then I work the thumb in a slow but firm circle until the muscle relaxes a little. I slide the second condom-covered cylinder beside my thumb and push. Lily cries out at being stretched so, but I work quickly, thumb and cylinder soon swap places, and she clamps shut around the thin wire that goes to the control.

Bent over, bound, with wires dangling from both holes, Lily looks delicious. I’d like to savour the moment, but my executive slave has started swaying her hips from side to side as if she can shake the toys loose. I need to move us on. Quickly, I release the leash from the spreader bar, pull Lily upright, and then drag her jeans back up until her arse is once again clad in denim. I even manage to refasten the jeans and pull up the zip. The control hangs from the top of Lily’s jeans like a tail.

“What are you doing?” Lily is not happy. She wants to be fucked, not dressed.

“Teaching you what happens when you defy me, Lily.”

Then I turn on the toys.

Lily twitches like a fish on a line. I wrap one arm around her chest, pressing her back against me to keep her from falling. I’ve set both cylinders to high. Even covered by the jeans, I can hear their buzzy engines working away.

“You’re killing me!”

“I’m helping you. But I’m a reasonable man. I’m setting the one in your cunt to low so that it’s not too distracting.”

The noise abates a little. Setting the toys this way will keep Lily focused on her arse and make it less likely that she’ll come quickly.

I wrap Lily’s leash around my fist and then let go of her chest. Before she can regain her balance, I drag her after me toward the bed. The spreader bar makes her stagger, and it’s all she can do to keep up.

Lily and I use a boutique Edwardian-themed hotel in Bloomsbury for our trysts. Part of the appeal is that the retro “gentleman’s club” furniture is so bondage friendly—a bit like the gentleman’s clubs were themselves, I expect. My favorite feature is the four-poster bed. Something of an anachronism for a room like this, but I’m more than willing to forgive the style lapse in favor of the practical advantages the bed offers.

I push Lily up against one of the posts at the foot of the bed and tie the leash around it at neck height. To keep her upright, I slip a line through the belt loops of her jeans and cinch it tight to the post. Then I tie the middle of the spreader bar to the drag-onball foot of the bed.

Lily immediately pushes forward so that her breasts jut out on either side of the post. This is such an appealing sight that it takes me a couple of seconds to realize that Lily is humping the post, trying to get off and to distract herself from the insistent little agitator in her arse. This will not do. I put an end to her hopes by sliding an overstuffed cushion between her and the bedpost. Lily shouts her frustration in a string of curses that would make a docker blush. I do not tolerate shouting. Lily knows this. I remind her of my views by closing one hand firmly over her mouth. After a few moments the noise stops and I release her.

I’m hot, slightly out of breath, with an erection I could hammer nails with. It’s time to get comfortable. I hang my jacket up, take off my tie, unbutton my collar, slip off my shoes, and climb up onto the bed in front of Lily.

My day-to-day life is filled with plans and deadlines and checklists. My time is accounted for months in advance. These sessions with Lily free me from that. In these little islands of lust and wickedness, I eschew all planning, listening only to my instincts and Lily’s needs. If I can maintain my focus, my actions and her reactions can fuse into a single dance of restraint and release. Today we both have a powerful need for that release.

So far, Lily’s defiance has set the scene. Now it is time for my desires to lead us in the dance.

If I listen to my blood-engorged cock, I would fuck and fuck and fuck until neither Lily nor I could move. But my cock lacks judgment. I know that my enjoyment will increase as I bring Lily closer and closer to abandoning herself, to letting go of everything except me and my will. Then I can drive us both into that moment when pleasure is all there is.

Putting conscious decision making aside, I focus on Lily.

She is slumped against the bedpost, hair sweat-damp against her forehead, breasts splayed around the phallic bedpost, legs forced wide apart by the spreader bar and arse pushed out at an inviting angle. She looks wonderful.

I kneel up on the bed and brush Lily’s hair back off her forehead. She closes her eyes. Gently, I kiss each eye, letting the tip of my tongue brush lightly across her eyelids. Then I place both hands on either side of her face, close my eyes, and kiss her on the mouth.

When I pull back and open my eyes, Lily is looking at me. She is waiting calmly now. She knows the dance is about to begin.

I lean close to her, my mouth tracing the line of her jaw, my arms around her waist.

I murmur her name and feel her body relax against me. I kiss my way down her body and suck one of her nipples deep into my mouth. When I’m certain that all the tension is gone from her, I find the control hanging from her jeans and reset both cylinders to high. Lily jolts upright and tries to pull away from me. I hold her in place by biting down hard on her nipple; then I spend a delightful few moments randomly resetting the speeds of the cylinders, playing a tune with the buzzing they make and using my teeth to create a contrapuntal beat of pain in Lily’s nipple. She rises up onto the balls of her feet but succeeds in not crying out. I set the cylinder in her arse to high and the one in her cunt to medium, and then I stand on the bed.

Lily is glaring up at me, mouth firmly closed as she concentrates on ignoring the sensation caused by the toys.

I smile at her and release my cock and balls from my trousers. I keep the trousers on because I enjoy the constrained freedom and because the image of naked arousal blossoming from Saville Row pinstripe pleases my sense of the absurd.

I’m now at just the right height to use Lily’s mouth. At one time this would have required a ring gag. Not that Lily came to me innocent of the joys of oral sex, but she was used to “giving head,” a process that allowed her complete control. I was more interested in taking than letting her give. Very little matches the satisfaction of a good face fuck. Under my tutelage, with her wrists bound behind her back and a ring gag in place, Lily learnt to surrender herself to my use. Now her throat is always available to me. All I have to do is slap her face with my erection and Lily opens her mouth wide and offers her tongue as a slipway on which to launch my violent lust.

Lily knows what I’m about to do, but she keeps her mouth defiantly closed. It takes three hard cock slaps across her cheeks before her mouth opens. I position my erection on her tongue, grasp her jaw and the back of her head, and force myself into her mouth. The angle is not the easiest, and my cock is proving itself inflexible, but I manage three firm strokes, the last of which gets almost all of me into her mouth. I hold her head in place until I see the tears forming in her eyes. Then I pull out.

“Be a good girl for Daddy,” I say, pulling Lily’s head back so she is looking up at me. “Beg me to sodomise you.”

Lily is still getting her breath back, so she shakes her head firmly and waits to see what I will do next.