You are lying across the kitchen table, legs spread and tied, ass hanging off the end. You feel like you will fall at any moment, but you are held securely by the ties binding your wrists to the corners of the table. You won’t fall, but that doesn’t ease the unsettling sensation.
Your eyes are half-closed, barely registering the light above you or the ceiling beyond; all your attention is focused on the heat of your skin, the slight layer of perspiration trailing between your breasts, the aching pulse of your clit as it throbs with need.
There is a movement at your side and you glance over as He moves back toward you. You know He is admiring the state He has brought you to, the pink flush of your face, handprints and slight welts that trail down your body, the deep rosy blush of your thighs and ass.
You can see the pride in His gaze. He is pleased with you, how well you have handled His ministrations. You can feel His eyes on you and you know that He is contemplating the perfect spot; someplace visible, but easily explained.
You wait, the anticipation building. Your mind whirs over the possibilities: where is it going to be? How much will it hurt? What will it look like? What will He use?
His hands start trailing down your heated flesh and you shiver. When will He start? You know that He is trying to decide on the perfect placement for your mark, and the anticipation is driving you insane.
Almost as much as His touch.
Your eyes close completely as you lose yourself in the sensations. You know you can’t rush Him anyway, so you might as well just enjoy the shivers of pleasure coursing through you.
You start to relax, slight moans escaping your parted lips. You have almost forgotten the intent of the session until He speaks.
“Are you ready, my dear?”
Your eyes are half-closed, barely registering the light above you or the ceiling beyond; all your attention is focused on the heat of your skin, the slight layer of perspiration trailing between your breasts, the aching pulse of your clit as it throbs with need.
There is a movement at your side and you glance over as He moves back toward you. You know He is admiring the state He has brought you to, the pink flush of your face, handprints and slight welts that trail down your body, the deep rosy blush of your thighs and ass.
You can see the pride in His gaze. He is pleased with you, how well you have handled His ministrations. You can feel His eyes on you and you know that He is contemplating the perfect spot; someplace visible, but easily explained.
You wait, the anticipation building. Your mind whirs over the possibilities: where is it going to be? How much will it hurt? What will it look like? What will He use?
His hands start trailing down your heated flesh and you shiver. When will He start? You know that He is trying to decide on the perfect placement for your mark, and the anticipation is driving you insane.
Almost as much as His touch.
Your eyes close completely as you lose yourself in the sensations. You know you can’t rush Him anyway, so you might as well just enjoy the shivers of pleasure coursing through you.
You start to relax, slight moans escaping your parted lips. You have almost forgotten the intent of the session until He speaks.
“Are you ready, my dear?”
