BDSM / short stories

Marrionette

Fingers wrapped tightly in my hair. The smell of his skin musky and raw. His lips trailing down my neck, biting in the soft hollow, sending shivers down my spine. He pulls me closer to him, wrapping his arm around my waist, squeezing my ribs tights.

My knees grow weak with anticipation, knowing what comes next. “On your knees” he growls, his voice commanding and deep. I comply, my knees sinking into the soft sand below.

I gaze up at him, my unspoken questions reflecting in my eyes. “Close them” he says, I do as I’m asked. I cannot see what he is about to do, only anticipate, and goosebumps break out on my flesh.

I feel the stroke of a finger run down my cheek, stopping briefly on my mouth. “Open ” he says. My mouth opens slightly, allowing his finger inside, he strokes it back and forth past my teeth. His finger is replaced by lips that kiss me roughly, his tongue seeking mine. With my eyes still closed tight, he lays me down on my back, the sand tickling my skin where it hits. The sound of the ocean waves hitting the rocks becomes the soundtrack for the evenings festivities.

I can feel my dress slipping up my body then over my head and I lay quite and still as the summer breeze washes over me.. My hands are lifted from my sides and the familiar twinge of the silken cord being wrapped around them causes internal shivers of delight. One, two, three, four, he wraps them tightly and places my arms above my head.

I have become the marionette and he the puppeteer waiting on him to move my body the way he sees fit. My legs are gently moved apart, and his head is suddenly buried between my thighs. I fight the urge to cry out, knowing this is part of the game. Staying silent, bearing the pleasure for as long as I can, trying to hold back from the release I will soon beg him to provide.

His mouth explores me inside and out, his tongue flickering like a snake. My hips begin to arch against my will, wanting him further and deeper in that sacred space. “Be still” he says. “You know the rules. You move only when I say”. I practice being as still as possible, a difficult task when all my nerve endings are deliciously alive.

“Yes Master” I reply, knowing this is the only response allowed.

“Sit up” he says and I comply. Eyes shut, hands bound, naked on the beach with nothing but the starry sky for light, I inhale deeply, giving myself over to the moment and his desires. He thrusts his cock inside my mouth, grabbing my hair once more.

Over and over he guides my head, my tiny jaw struggling to open wide enough to accommodate his rock hard shaft. After what feels like an eternity he grabs me by my ropes and stands me up, forcing my back against his stomach and enters me from behind. His arms ropes around me to keep me standing and he pushes himself harder into me.

My body is soaking wet, a combination of sweat and desire mixed into one. I reflexively bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out until I can’t take it a moment more. “Please, master, please. I can’t stop, I can’t!” I cry. For a moment I am afraid he is ignoring my pleas as he rams his cock harder and faster into me. The sound of our skin slapping together echoing into the night. “Now” he says and I obey, allowing my body the release it craves.

My voice cries as my knees grow weak and my legs begin to shake and finally I open my eyes. I am grateful he is holding me for the intensity of the moment would surely have dropped me to the ground beneath.

He cums shortly after, leaving his seed behind, a reminder of the night we’ve had together. In the morning I’ll awake to cotton panties mingled with his scent and mine, a sweet, fruity smell that is a pleasant reminder of what transpired.

He unties my hands and hands me my dress, kissing me on my forehead and cheek. He puts his clothing back on and I grab his hand leading him down the beach toward our blanket and car waiting beyond the hill. I smile as I begin to job, he following obediently behind, another memory made in a memorable, beautiful life.

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