Tonight You Will Call Me Master

My darling, you've been so stressed lately. Tonight I want you to let me take control. Things haven’t been easy, and I know it's been hard for you. This is why tonight I've prepared a distraction for you. Something special. Just you and me. Something to take your mind off your worries. In fact, it is my hope we can clear all those pesky thoughts from your head. Let you escape, and submit completely.

Do you trust me? Your trust means all the world to me. Trust is what enables you to relinquish control to me. To submit, allowing me to guide you, restrain you, and pleasure you. When your submission is given, I don't take it lightly. Our bedroom is a sacred place for us. Relax...let me undress you and begin.

I work primarily in silence. Moving you myself is more efficient than telling you what I want, so I take liberties with your body, giving you directions in firm touches, handling your body to make my adjustments, securing the waist harness around you before weaving between your legs. You are my plaything to position as I desire—less thinking for you. Just do, just be.

The only sound in the room is my breathing as I work, and your heartbeat in your ears, your excitement growing as each length of cord is added. Feel the sensation of the rope as I wind around your form, loose at first, then tightening as I pull each piece into place. My rugged hands grip you here, pulling a binding there, making sure everything is perfect before I move to the next.

Finally satisfied, I sit you on the bed to work down one leg, then the other, weaving patterns more for presentation than binding. I offer my hand and pull you to your feet, then turn you around in my arms. You feel my breath on the skin of your back as I take great care tying your arms, bringing your wrists together to bind you.  

With each wrap of the cord, let go of one more worry. Let one more troublesome thought slip from your mind—the rope grounding you here with me now. Every tie is like a brushstroke of a painting, making your body into an art piece one section at a time. Focus on the rope. Focus on me—no other thoughts.

I tie each ankle individually before I direct you to stand so I can look over my work. My gaze is not one of self-admiration but scrutiny. Checking that no binding will cause you more discomfort than pleasure. Confirming no knot can slip out of place. I do not do half measures. Because I have your trust, there is no room for errors in my work.

Still, as I check the bindings, I can't help but admire your body standing before me. Wearing nothing but the rope, you are entirely on display for me. I've kept my clothes on while I work. Removed my jacket, rolled up my sleeves, but I'm still sharply dressed. I could walk out of here and into any bar without a second thought. You, on the other hand...Well, I have plans for you that will make it very hard to walk anywhere, regardless of how much you are or aren't wearing.

Loosening my tie, I pull it over my head and bring it to hang around your neck. A marker to claim you as mine. It is far from the final piece, but I like the way it looks on you. 

I slip the satin blindfold over your eyes. Now you are in darkness as I move around you. Feel my finger lifting your chin. Then feel my lips on yours. A kiss to spark the kindling we've been building. The stripping and tying of your body is all part of the ritual of submission. You are in my commanding hands now. The hands of an artist. The hands that direct you with a strong grip and gentle pushes.

Spread your legs for me. Wider. Good, now hold that position. I bring a metal pole and attach it between the ties around each ankle—first one, then the other. I take a moment to make sure it's secure and, satisfied with the result, step back. The spreader bar keeps your legs apart, exposing your ass for me. No shying away now.

My strong grip keeps you balanced as I work behind you. I step back and raise the rope attached to your wrists to the ceiling. Slowly, your arms pull upward and the motion bends you forward. The rope supports you as I ease you into the new stance: hands hoisted up, head down, ass out, you are completely on display for me. The strappado position is an eloquent one that flirts with being torturous. The rope suspends you only slightly, with enough give and stretch to play with.

With you in the desired position, I rub a hand over your ass before sliding down between your legs. My fingers find you between coils of rope, and I slide along the length of you, my thumb gently rubbing around your hole, dragging my fingers front to back and back again. I will not rush—though the excitement mounting inside me threatens to undo all my hard work.

But I maintain my composure, playing with you silently. You are free to moan and gasp at my touch—in fact, I want to hear you. Your silence encourages me to stroke harder, to slip my finger into you deeper. Is the anticipation making you ache for me? I want you to ache for me, darling. I want to hear you say, "I ache for you, Master."

My hands work over you and inside you, no other distractions. My strokes continue, and my other hand slaps against your ass sharply, though not as hard as I can. As I will. I want to hear you say, "Thank you, Master."

Good manners are necessary here, so focus on my voice and my directions. Don’t get lost in the sensations and stumble over your words, now. When I am satisfied with your response, my voice encourages you with soft praise. When you falter, commands to try again and threats of greater discipline are uttered sternly.

I give your ass a few good strikes, making it a lovely rosy color that pairs well with your yelps and whimpers. Every "Thank you, Master," is music to my ears. The notes of your submission are carefully orchestrated, building towards our beautiful crescendo. Satisfied, my hand strokes your ass one last time before sliding along your back as I walk to stand before you.

Gliding along your skin, over the ropes, and up your neck, I bring my hand to your hair. A commanding grip to claim you as mine. Then, holding your neck a moment longer, I come around to stand before you, letting my fingers trace along your head and down your jaw.

Resting my finger under your chin, my thumb brushes over your lips. As you try to kiss it, I slip into your mouth to let you suck on it. Good, you know what to do. You gently stroke my thumb against your tongue as your lips wrap around it. 

As your mouth works, I bring my head to your ear. My voice is so close and low, just above a whisper—almost a growl. “Your tongue is doing so good right now, darling. It’s good preparation for when I slide my cock between your lips. And be sure to suck my cock good and hard to get it wet darling, because after it’s covered in your saliva, I’m going to get behind your beautiful ass and slip into your little wet hole.”

“I’m going to fuck you with this cock until you cum. And you will continue to be fucked until you cum again. And each time you cum, you will need to thank me. Just as you did before, I want to hear, ‘I'm cumming, Master!’ and then, ‘Thank you, Master.’ And be sure to clear your head of distractions—you should be fucked hard, thinking only thoughts of me. Me and my cock as I fill you up. Only wet hot thoughts as you cum on my cock.”

I pull my thumb from your mouth, stand back up and ask, "Do you understand?"

With your mouth free from my thumb, you can reply, "Yes, Master." And that is the correct answer. An acceptable answer. Now ask, “Fuck my face, Master?”

You barely get the first word out before I press my cock between your lips and interrupt you. As I tease the head in more, I hear you mumble into my cock, your tongue pushing against me. “I can’t quite hear you, darling. You need to repeat yourself.”

I slip my cock from your mouth and you let out a gasp as a trail of drool drips down your chin. You barely catch your breath before you try to ask again—quickly—because you know the game I’m playing. The words get stopped in your throat as my cock busies your mouth once more.

Holding your head in place, I repeat the tease, slipping in and out of your lips. You gasp and gag, sputtering to make sentences as my cock slides against your tongue. Pulling out of you, I slap my soaked shaft against your cheeks, smearing your saliva across your face. Eventually, you give up on making words, only making needy, desperate sounds as you try to catch the precum dripping off me.  

I’m more focused on teasing that pretty mouth of yours than my own pleasure. I don't plan on cumming yet. Not in your mouth. Not tonight. I just want to push some thoughts out of your head with my cock. Keep your tongue busy for a bit.

After a few more thrusts to the back of your throat, I pull my cock out and squat down in front of you. As you catch your breath, I lean beside your ear and say, “Ask your Master to fuck you.”

This time I will not interrupt. No cock or finger will fill your mouth. I expect you to answer as quickly as you can. With a slight trembling need you remember your words and say, "Please fuck me, Master." 

“Ha! The please is a nice touch.” I pull your blindfold from your face. 

Your eyes open and adjust in the low light. There is a large mirror set just to the side of us. Carefully placed to give you a complete view of yourself tied up. Go ahead and look. I see your eyes follow me as I walk back to your ass.

Coming to stand behind you, I lean forward and slide between your ass cheeks. My hand strokes my cock ever so slightly as I glide along your tailbone. You see the fever in my eyes as I try to wring out a moment more of teasing before I slip into you. 

I give one more smart slap to your ass before bringing two fingers to my mouth. I watch your face for the moment of realization as my hands slide along my tongue—I’m not done teasing you. Getting my fingers appropriately wet, I move them to your hole, slipping inside. 

You feel me slide in and out, burying myself to the knuckle. Putty in my hands, you squirm against the ropes, but they hold you tight. My fingers stroke you deeply as your body struggles against my hand. No gag for you tonight, I want to hear every moan of pleasure from you. Each sound escaping your lips makes me want to play with you more. Your submission is earned through pleasure, demanded with my touch. It is impossible for you to think of anything else. 

My fingers slow as I wait for your gasps and moans to wane. Say, ‘Fuck me, Master.’ And you will ask properly, submitting completely to me, your Master. Say you want me to fuck you good and hard.

Now-soaked fingers slip from you to wrap around my throbbing cock as I press the head against you. It’s only when I hear those sweet words of submission though, that I guide myself in. My careful planning has built to this first thrust of the night.

I want to ensure the first thrust goes deep, so my hands pull you back into me by your hips. I plunge into you and pause. I know how distracting that first thrust can be for you. The sensation of being filled makes it so hard for you to think. I hold there, waiting as you gasp and moan.

When you finally compose yourself, you remember to thank your Master, and then I piston back to really start to fuck you. Thrusting the full length in and out, your ass slaps loudly against my body as I go. Burying to the hilt, I am making a wet mess of you.

I nearly pull out, only to plunge back in forcefully. Between grunts, I manage to get out a reminder, “You better remember to tell your Master when you're close to cumming. No forgetting. I need to be able to hear you over the sound of me fucking you. No looking away as I fuck you, now. I want you to watch in the mirror. Want you to see how your ass bounces off me. See how good you look taking it again and again. See how good I look fucking you.”

A hand releases your hip and I begin to spank your ass in time with my thrusts. Striking you smartly, not with my whole hand. Your cries of pleasure drive me on. I pull you back into me with each thrust, so you feel the entire length of me. Your world is a fascinating blur, your thoughts melting away, focused only on the sensations of your body, from the rope, from my cock, from me.

Suspended and in full submission, you let your body loose to feel the freedom of getting fucked in this position. I lean forward and reach for my tie around your neck to remind you you’re mine. I grab hold of it and pull back as I ride your ass all the harder. Your head tips back, the tie presses firmly against your throat, and you feel warm all over and light headed. 

You tell me you are close. And then, the wave washes over you. Gasping and moaning as you cum for me, you are sure to thank your Master for fucking you. “Thank you, Master, oh please I’m cumming, Master. Thank you, Master.” 

I won’t stop until your head is fuzzy and you forget how many times I’ve made you cum. And do not forget who is fucking you. Who your ass belongs to and who makes you into such a wet mess. And never forget to thank me each time you cum.

Eventually, I slow to a stop and slide out of you. I come around and bring my cock to your face, your juices dripping off of me. Standing before you, I grab your head as I offer you a taste of yourself on me. I tip your face up to meet my eyes as you clean me with your tongue. “You’re being so very good and dirty for me tonight. Because of that, I'm going to make you cum a few more times, tonight. And when I feel like you've been fully satisfied, when I think all your stress has been good and fucked out of your head, then I will cum with you. Only then will you feel me burst inside you. When that happens though, is for me to decide.”

Kneeling to bring my face to yours, I kiss you hard. My tongue runs over your sweet and sticky tongue. A messy kiss. A long kiss. A dance of tongues and lips and teeth.

Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy