A submissive sends her Master an unconventional love letter.
Dear Sir, I can’t wait to see you. A long- distance relationship is hard on the couple involved. By the time you read this I’ll already be on a train, on my way to see you. I just wanted to share this fantasy with you before my arrival.
Having let myself into your house with the spare keys, I take a quick shower and dry off. I rub lotion into my legs, arms and tits. My skin feels delicious – sensitised and alive. I pinch my nipples, twisting them. I imagine it’s your fingers sending zings of pleasure to my clit. My pussy throbs. It’s so wet and hot, aching for your fingers, or your cock, inside my hot c**t. But I don’t touch. I don’t want to come. Not yet. Not until you look in my eyes and command me to come. Instead of bringing myself to orgasm, I slip into the lingerie I bought especially for the occasion. I found the lacy black and white bra with matching knickers and garter belt on a burlesque website. They were a little expensive, a slight extravagance, but the bra pushes my tits up and out, allowing a hint of my hard, pink nipples to poke through the lace. I put on a pair of stockings and snap on the hooks, hoping you’ll like the purchases. I think you’ll enjoy the fact that your slut likes to dress up for you. The final piece of the outfit is a pair of open-toe high heels.
You’ll be home from work in a few minutes. I sit on my knees, hands behind my back, head down, tits pushed forward. Lying before me is a cane I purchased. My gift to you. My Ice Dom. I smile. The Ice Dom and the fiery slut. They say fire and ice don’t mix, but we mesh pretty well. My panties are soaked with the juice flowing from my pussy. Already my mouth is dry with anticipation. I cannot wait for you to command me.
The key turns in the lock; the door opens. I wait for a few seconds. Trying to be a good submissive I give you a few minutes to adjust – after all, you didn’t know I was coming. My nipples peak – they’re becoming hard like pebbles as I feel your eyes boring into them. I wonder if your cock is hard. I wonder if you’ll allow me to take your cock in my mouth and suck, to savour you against my tongue, to let your come slide down my throat and lick your skin clean of every last drop.
Unable to stand the anticipation any longer, I look up at you. It’s not very sub-like of me, but I need to see your eyes. I want to see if you are excited; turned on. Or if you are disappointed with your pet for being so bold.
Relief floods through my body and dissipates my anxious mood. It’s not disappointment I see in your eyes. It’s pure, hardcore lust. The need to fuck. The need to dominate.
I’ve never told you this, but that look is terrifying and electrifying in equal measure. I know you won’t hurt me, but I know your wants, needs and cravings. I can’t explain it, but my body reacts on a basic level, goes pliant and soft. That look makes me want you to beat my arse cheeks so red that they bruise. I want you to twist my nipples till I cry out from pain; I want you to bite the tender flesh of my neck and leave your mark. I want you to cover me in come. I want you to come on my skin and rub your scent into my body. I want you to force your cock down my throat until I can’t take anymore and then I want you to cover my body with yours, slide your cock into my pussy and fuck me. And I want all that after one look.
“You really are a naughty slut.” I nod my head in agreement. I am a naughty slut, and a playful one. “Does my slut want me to spank her?”
“Yes, please, Sir.” My heart beats wildly with nerves and anticipation. I cannot wait to feel you punish me with your cane.
“Get up and spread your arms and legs against the wall.”
Getting to my feet, I press my body against the wall. I spread my arms out above my head and open my legs wide. I stick my arse out slightly because I know you like that – my back becomes curved, my head is slightly down and my curves are ripe for your spanking. I hear you pick up the cane. I close my eyes, savouring the lust-filled pause.
The first sharp crack against my cheeks is not the sting of the cane, but your hand. I gasp at the tingling feeling. I can feel my cheeks starting to warm. My head immediately goes into sub space. I cannot think about anything but the next spank. I breathe out and bite my lip. My clit throbs; my c**t gushes, wetting my panties. You spank me again and again. Over and over. Short, sharp slaps. The pain is too pleasurable for words. My breathing is laboured and I moan out your name.
“Dylan.” It comes out in a breathy whisper, and I forget you are ‘Sir’ in the moment. I’m a bad submissive, I know, but all I can think about is you and the pleasure. You stop spanking me. Leaning into my body, you put your hand against my cheeks and nuzzle at my neck. “I can feel you warming against my hand. So hot. So sexy.” I can hear the pleasure in your voice. You’re pleased with me and that makes me smile. You reach around and twist my nipples. Not slow, gentle tugging but real twisting. You like doing that – twisting and pulling, torturing my nipples. And I love that side of you, the dominant side. I suspect that deep down there may be a little bit of a sadist in you.
I gasp and lean my head back, focusing on the sheer pleasure of the pain. In that moment I am close to begging you, close to saying, “Please Sir, fuck your slut.” But I don’t. I want you to use the cane. I want to feel your power over me.
“Too much, slut? Or do you want me to give you more?” “More.” “More what?” “More please, Sir.” You give my nipples one last hard pinch. “Good girl.”
Those two words are almost enough to send me into an orgasm. But I won’t. Not until you command me. The bite of the cane against my arse makes me yelp. It’s a different sensation. Harder. More painful than your hand. It leaves me gasping for breath.
You stop. “You OK?” I nod. How can I explain that pain is pleasure? That I’ll stand there and be caned; that I enjoy the sting because you are the one wielding the cane. I don’t have the words to explain my emotions, so I simply say, “More, please, Sir.”
You start raining blows on my arse. Lightly at first, then more forcefully. All I can do is moan and pant like a true slut. Surely you can see my pussy is creaming for you? I wonder if your cock is hard. If making my arse red and hot is turning you on. I hope so.
Again you stop. This time you slip the cane between my thighs, rubbing it against my pussy, coating it with my cream. Then you do something entirely unexpected – you spank my clit lightly with the broad edge of the cane. The pressure is too much. I want to come so, so badly.
But I know that if I want to climax, I have to ask. Blushing, I whisper, “Please, Sir, may I come?” “Have you been a good slut?” Spank, spank, spank against my pussy. I try clenching my legs together but you stop, letting me know that you don’t want me to do that. “Naughty slut.” “Sorry, Sir.”
You bite my collarbone and spank my pussy hard. “You can come, slut.” Spank, spank. “Come for me now.” It’s your words, the way you say ‘come for me now’, that send me over the edge. The combination of the heat of my stinging arse cheeks, the pleasurable pain in my nipples, and the delicious pressure on my clit makes my orgasm intense. I come so hard for you, my dominant. Only you can make me feel like this: so turned on, so horny and so goddamn slutty.
You slip an arm around my waist, supporting me gently, as if you know I’m too weak from my orgasm to stand on my own. I feel your heat, the press of your body, your hard cock, and I know what I want next. But does a submissive dare ask her dominant? Then I remember I’m not a normal submissive. “Please, Sir, can your slut suck your cock?” Maybe you’ll let me, maybe you won’t. We’ll find out in a few hours.
See you soon, Sir.
Yours submissively..
