Petticoat Slave

Discussion in 'Member fiction' started by Deleted member 26316, May 30, 2011.

  1. Deleted member 26316
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    I slide the mirrored door slowly aside and there you are.

    Framed in the dark; the black of the leather, satin, nylon and wood that bind you stand out in sharp relief against your white skin; the bindings that are the physical symbols of your total surrender to me – your Mistress.

    As I circled the dance floor earlier tonight, I could feel you watching. I feel beautiful in this dress of deep sapphire taffeta, corseted tight in the body but full skirted; the skirts made fuller by the hooped silk petticoats layered underneath. The dress cradles my curves and the material caresses my skin but it’s the hungry, admiring look in your eyes that makes me feel beautiful. You drifted behind me once or twice tonight, could you hear the rustling sounds the layers made as they swung around my body, the noise I love as much as you?

    I’ve admired you for so long now. If you could see through my eyes this is what you’d see: The lines of your body that trace across broad shoulders running down to tight hips, the lines of muscle on your forearms, the strength in your hands, the stubborn jut to your jaw that says don’t fuck with me, belying the softness beneath.

    But I want to fuck with you. You excite me beyond all imagining. I want to feel that hard body prone under mine, all that strength bound and useless to you because you are under my boot heel, my hand my whip.

    I beckon you from the wardrobe, the humbler that imprisons your balls, keeping you obeisant, the device YOU made, and gifted to me, ensures you stay on your knees. I stalk around you, digging my high heels into the carpet as I inspect my Petticoat Slave boy.

    All dressed and pretty, you followed my instructions to the letter. You are wearing my silk blouse and the black pleated skirt is rucked up around your waist showing the satin half slip, your beautiful cock is displayed against silk seamed stockings, suspenders and French knickers, the latter already damp with your arousal.

    My taffeta skirts and silk petticoats rustle as I walk; your eyes follow them as they sway around my leather boots. Is the anticipation sweet for you? Are you wondering when my hands will touch you? Where and when the sharp sting of the first slap will land? Should I blindfold you as well so that you can only listen and feel if I allow the skirts to touch your skin?

    The first hard slaps are to your face, just to ensure your full attention. Then I put my boot to your chest and push, wanting you to feel the sharpness of the heel. I go behind you, release your hands and gag, and push you over so you’re face down on the carpet; my fingers stroke across your back down onto your hard arse. I give you two sharp slaps, one each side and then reaching under the clothes stroke again, soothing the sting with my cool hands. I follow those with six more each side, I hear your breaths increase so I stop and then put my boot in your face,

    I watch you worship my boot with your mouth kissing the patent black leather over and over, your tongue, running around the straps and up and down the leg. You sidle your hand up my bootleg too until you can touch the petticoats underneath. “Bad boy” I snap, “You didn’t ’ask my permission”. “Please Mistress”, you ask and with the greatest pleasure, I slap your face, then your hands down and grind my boots onto them, a warning not to touch again unbidden.

    I move behind you again, grab hold of your balls and squeeze. I hear you gasp as I increase the pressure on your balls, pulling steadily but firmly, tugging until you whimper; I want to touch more of you. I kneel down; pull aside the knickers and taking a mouthful of sparkling water in my mouth I gently take your balls in my mouth letting the bubbles tingle on the tight purple skin. I suck gently alternating the hot wet suction of my mouth with little nips of teeth. Your body flowing towards me with every wave of suction I apply. Unbeknown to you, all the time I’ve been keeping your attention firmly on your balls, I’ve been lubing up a butt plug. I’ve fantasised for weeks about deflowering you, bending you over taking you hard with my strap on cock. But not today your tight little virgin hole is safe with me, your new plug isn’t huge, just enough for you to feel the sensation of being stretched and filled. I slip in my finger first, gently easing in so that that you barely notice I’m sure. I feel that tight ring of muscle protesting gently but I’m persuasive too and I want my own way. Two fingers now, gently stroking and stretching readying your body for the invasion of my virtual self. The muscles relax and so I slip it in, slowly, oh so slowly a little at a time until as you groan and shudder, your greedy arse takes it all. “Good boy”, I sigh and kiss your neck, my little slut - another rung on the ladder.

    Abruptly I stop and slap your balls hard, once, twice, three times more and more, now your cock ,again and again, hard slaps with no break in-between, no let up until you’re gasping out, begging now for me to stop, tears showing in your eyes.

    Reaching back into the wardrobe I remove the bridle, bit and saddle I purchased for you earlier I want to sit and ride your back as I reach down and lightly pat your swollen balls with my hand. Removing the Humbler, I tack you up, tucking the trailing edge of your skirt under the saddle and so, we begin. My pretty, willing pony with the leather straps on his face and the rubber bit in his mouth. The reins stretch back from your head and the saddle grips your body, the stirrups just the perfect length so my boots heels can swing into your ribs.

    I listen to your breathing becoming shallow, unsteady; enjoying the sounds of trepidation as you wonder what comes next. I slowly raise my skirts and slide the riding crop from my boot knowing you can see it from the corner of your eye. I hold it steady in front of your face: “kiss it” I demand, “use your tongue, convince me you want it” You begin kissing the leather wrapped handle, your beautifully shaped mouth moulding itself around the hard length and my pussy wets again as I watch. I know how wonderful your mouth is on mine, the all too infrequent taste of you a constant sensory memory that I treasure.

    Mounting up, I alternate a slap, a flick, and then I straighten up and spank your arse with my crop. Once twice, three times, more, I alternate a stroke of the whip to each cheek with a stroke of my hand knowing how the colour and heat raise on your behind, all the time keeping up a steady pressure on your mouth by pulling on reins. We begin a circuit of the bedroom, a steady trot designed to keep your mind on the job at hand, every time you slow my boot heels thump your ribs and I crop you again forcing you to bounce me up and down so my clit gets a wonderful steady pressure. My desire mounts again and its time for round two.


    I dismount and remove the saddle, I want the advantage of height now. Standing I brace my boot against your balls and lean my weight against the reins, reminding you whose in charge. “Whose balls are they?” I demand and you defy me by saying “mine”, I pull harder, pressing my sharp heel against your scrotum and you squeal. “Whose are they?” I demand again, louder, more forcefully, is it the pain or my will but you give in, concurring. “Yours Mistress, they are Yours” “Count these and thank me”, I raise the crop and bring it down smartly on your arse. You yell out “one Mistress, Thank you Mistress, Two Mistress, thank you Mistress but I don’t stop, again and again I bring that length of black leather across your arse, each blow raising a red stripe. I want those stripes to last, a memory for you, and every twinge you feel in the coming days, I want you to remember ME. I increase the pace on your balls and thighs wanting to brand my ownership in the stripes on your body. You take thirty hard strokes, sweat soaked, your voice is cracking now and I’ve reached the limit of my control.

    The wetness is soaking my petticoats now; I reach out my hand and pick up my strongest rabbit vibe, straddling you again, so I can slide it gently into that aching, sopping part of me. I turn the vibrating ears on and shift, wedging the vibe agianst your arse, knowing you can feel the vibrations passing down into you too. It doesn’t take long; I’m too far gone myself. My back bows as I cum, the incredible climax raging through my nearly helpless body. I am able to feel the inner walls of my pussy contract and release, squeezing my vibrator hard. My clit throbs and pulses and all strength drains from me as my orgasm crests, recedes and suddenly crests again. I reach one arm out and brace myself against your strong shoulder, fighting the feminine weakness that spreads through me like wildfire. I gasp, calling your name, unable to keep silent as the unbelievable waves of ecstasy flow outward, cresting and releasing, again and again and again.

    Head hanging and gasping for breath, your strong body shudders. I slide off, leaving the soaking evidence of my orgasm on the silk that is taut over your spine and removing the pony tack, lay you on your back, removing the french knickers, as greedy for your orgasm as I am for mine. As I lower myself down, I drape the layers of silk and taffeta onto you, letting you feel the weight of petticoats, moving so that beautiful hard cock is pressed against my groin between the layers of fabric. You thrust vigorously, rubbing your cock through the silk petticoats enjoying the sliding sensation of the material and the rustling noises all the while pressed hard against my most intimate of places.

    I rock backwards and forwards, the hard feel of you beneath me is heady and frustrating at the same time, I cannot stand it any longer and by changing the angle slightly and lifting the petticoats, I capture that beautiful, wide cock in my sopping wetness and grind down as you thrust deep. Like a switch being pulled your energy explodes, thrusting and grinding deep inside me any fabric noise now drowned out by our shared gasps. I hold back, rubbing myself only slowly, wanting to see you cum, I lean forward, tasting your sweat with my tongue and curl my fingers in your hair, pulling hard. Your face is a picture of pain and pleasure combined, “Please Mistress may I cum now?" All it takes is my breathy whispered "Yes" and then there it is; that wonderful and perfect moment when all the teasing, anticipation and tempting become one, concentrated, throbbing undeniable Need and all the sensation culminates in your gut and balls, exploding from your cock, leaving you incapable of breathing, your eyes rolling back in your head. I feel every wonderful gushing pulse traveling up your thick cock and I lean back, rubbing my clit hard and fast until I climax again, all the while captivated by your gorgeous face.
     
  2. billyboi
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    billyboi Junior Member

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    Very well written!!!! :D
     
  3. Deleted member 26316
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    Thankyou very much. :D
     
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