You slide lube-slick fingers between my legs and I gulp down another inch of your straining, questing cock. Saturday afternoon sex, slow and sensual, is about to turn deliciously kinky.
Small whimper of protest, a wordless “where’s it gone?” as you pull back and leave the bed to retrieve your choice of toys. Spreader bar, cuffs. E-stim kit. Lube. I’m not whimpering now, I’m smirking with anticipation. We make a pile of pillows, drape me across them. Face down, legs spread and held apart, I chuckle into the sheets as you press conductive pads to my buttocks and connect the control unit. An e-spanking maybe?
“Play with yourself”
I rub slow circles around my clit; you turn on the power. Prickles dance on my nerve endings front and rear. I can hear the soft squelch of the lube dispenser; you’re getting something slick and slippery for me. Fingers? A plug? A vibe? Not knowing is part of the fun.
One finger, the lube still cold, pressing and probing. Teasing open the whorl of muscle and delicate skin between my arse cheeks and working its way inside, around. Two fingers.
“Don’t move,” you order, pressing your other hand into the small of my back. “Stay just like that.”
Orders, mmmff. I pinch my clit hard between finger and thumb, stroking myself while you slather lube onto your cock-head, guiding it into position until I can feel your taut tip nudging at my rim. relax I tell myself, and my body obeys, limbs slackening in welcome. A grunt and a shove, you slide into me and we both groan at the way I yield and flow around you, drawing you further in. Pause for a moment, take a moment to feel ourselves, each other.
padded clasp of the cuffs, cold metal of the spreader bar against my feet,
your body pressing down on mine, cock-musk scenting my lips
You pick up the e-stim unit, turn up the power-
prickling tingle of electricity; invisible pinwheels scribbling illusory welts across my arse
-and grind yourself deeper, cramming your cock to the hilt in me, stretching, and filling and squeezing.
Another notch higher on the power setting. I squeal, try to huddle, wriggling away from the current but you’re holding me down, fucking me with deliberate, measured, merciless strokes, my arms trapped beneath me, your hand at my throat, there’s nowhere to go-
-but up a level, the nerve-shocks dancing with bladed feet on my skin. I’m sizzling, jerking, panting; I’ll have friction burns at my elbows from scrabbling at the sheets, but I can’t escape the pads, they’re stuck to me and so are you, no escape. This understanding makes my cunt twitch and I tighten around you – I can’t help it; the pain, the helplessness, pins-and-needles, pinioned and fucked in the ass, it gets me hot and wet, so eager, and you know it. It drives you wild too, the way I melt when you hold me down and take what you want.
“Use the flick mode. As hard as you can take,” you growl, pressing the control unit into my hand. An experimental tap knocks a shocked gasp from me, a grunt from you as I twitch beneath you.
“Harder. Keep going.”
I bash the unit against the mattress and scream at the lashes of crackling cold fire streaking across my arse. Another strike, another, as quickly as I can recover from the last, topping up the tendrils of electricity reaching through my tight flesh into yours. “Oh”, you groan and drive yourself into me with inexorable deliberation, deep and slow in contrast to my frantic, shuddering writhe. Each thrust sends thrills down my spine to meet the budding sweetness of my clit beneath my busily-rubbing fingers, swirling outwards from my slippery cleft across my skin. I bring the unit down again and again, torturing myself for your enjoyment and the more it hurts, the more I want it, the more I can take. I’m your obedient fuck-puppet brought to life with crackling electricity, suffering to serve you, and getting off on it so much.
Your breathing turns ragged and urgent, your methodical strokes dissipated into frenzied pumping. I know these signs; a groan welling up from the pit of your stomach as the rising orgasm gathers your balls tight and curls your toes around my calves-
-so I sting myself harder, over and over, whimper and writhe in burning, blissful agony until you come with a yell, a shudder and spurt of hot spunk-
-in me, and I’m still tapping, still burning, still yelping into the pillow, grinding against my hand. Sweetness and savage lightning; tumbling in the slipstream my own orgasm swirling in the wake of yours.
Hearts pounding, breathing harsh and hoarse, sweat-slicked and come-drenched, we subside together on the rumpled sheets. Mind. Blown.