So this week Daffodil Candy Mare had her birthday and so I typed a little something for her. Here is my inspiration. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
Warning, this story contains mild BDSM and is adult in nature.
The ropes burned a little where they rubbed at his wrists and he knew by the time he was untied they would be deliciously chafed. He kept his eyes lowered, his head bowed, not meeting the gaze of his Master in front of him, he’d disobeyed and would have to endure his punishment. He lifted his legs one at a time as his trousers and pants were removed, then ropes were added to his ankles, securing them to posts at either side and keeping his legs apart. His cock bobbed free, hard at the anticipation of what could come. A blindfold was added, a slip of silk across his eyes, then his Master placed on the mask, it gagged his mouth and blocked his hearing and the only sense he had left was the ability to feel.
Nervous anticipation swelled in his belly as he waited for the first touch, it could be pain or pleasure, it could come in 5 seconds or in an hour – he had no way of knowing. He clenched the marble in his hand tightly, dropping it meant this would be over, his punishment stopped instantly but it would also be the end of his contract, his Master would no longer want him and Ethan couldn’t bear the thought of that.
Time twisted itself, seconds became minutes, minutes seconds, as it pulsed beyond his realm of consciousness. He strained to hear something, to sense anything other than the warm air on his body and the rough ropes at his wrists. Suddenly a softness touched him, soft and barely there and his mind traced the almost tickle as it swept across his chest and down his body. Round his side the feathery touch skimmed across his backside and crossed beneath him and up over his balls. The lightness of the touch was torturous, he needed a firmer hold, he wanted to buck forward to seek more and he strained to follow its feathery trail. Its slow gentleness wasn’t enough...but then even that was gone. His cock ached.
He could sense movement around him and tried to work out what and where. He anticipated pain after the soft touch, expected it almost - instead he found cold. In the warm room the ice was almost welcome as it traced the path of the feather before. It smoothed over his behind and slow melts of icy liquid dripped down his leg. The ice was pushed slowly, slowly up his body until it swept over his left nipple. He pushed into the frigid touch as excitement pulsed through him to his cock. He knew he would be leaking now, knew semen would be seeping from his slit, in his darkness all he was aware of was the icy caress across his nipple and the throbbing ache of his knob. Wanting to moan as the frozen wetness traced across to the other nipple his tongue pushed against the intrusive gag in his mouth. A groan deep in his throat was all he could utter, loud and feral in the silence of his own head.
The cube was rubbed up and down his body – both delightful and chilly in its trail. It circled his nipple again, and again, smaller and smaller until it was rubbing just the stiffened nub. The icy slide over this sensitive skin was delicious, wonderful, sending thrill after thrill through his body. He waited for the ice to move away anticipated where it would go to, but it didn’t move and the pleasure, the thrill, turned chilling and torturous. He tried to move away but couldn’t, the ice stayed with him burning the bliss away until he thought he could bear it no more. Then just as he found his limit it was moved and replaced by a hot mouth twisting, tweaking and teasing.
Teeth worried first one nipple then the next, pressure was applied as the mouth on his chest sucked hard. A hand clamped round his shaft moving slowly up and down. He tried to snap forward to gain more friction but the hand only stopped in warning. He felt kisses on his neck, sharp nips and hard sucks that he knew would mark, each sensation sent waves of pleasure through his stomach, pooling in his groin. The hand rubbed faster and harder and pressure built in his balls, the throbbing ache that grew and grew and Oh my god I’m going to come, flashed though his head. Then the cool, smooth leather of a cock ring snapped in place, circling the bass of his shaft and dividing his balls. He knew then his Master would expect him not to come. He tried to ignore the delicious sensations at his neck, on his nipples and along his cock. Tried to not submit to the waves of pleasure seeking to erupt.
Relief surged through him, twinned with disappointed longing as suddenly all contact was broken. He yearned for more, needed to be able to come. Oiled hands caressed his arse, slicking over the rounded muscles, kneading and pulling apart his cheeks. A finger traced his taint and across his hole. The hands, gentle and probing and perfect, abruptly moved. A second of time then a sharp sting to his backside, followed by another and another. Smooth wood brought down flawlessly. The pain was beautiful. Sharp and bright and perfect. His gagged mouth wouldn’t allow him to speak but he counted in his head each slap as his Master delivered them. 8, 9, 10. Tears leaked from his blindfolded eyes, cries were stifled in his throat. Then it stopped and once again hands smoothed over the sore area, gently spreading cooling lotion to the rawness.
Pre-come leaked from him and he longed to feel filled, to have his Master buried inside of him, hammering at his backside. He longed for hands to caress his knob again, stroke it until his orgasm exploded. This was a punishment though, what would his Master do?
Once more fingers probed at his arse, pushing roughly inside, lubed and slick, opening him up. Seconds later he felt the head of his Master’s sheathed cock pushing in, penetrating him. There was nothing soft or gentle about the way his Master pounded him, each thrust forward rubbing him closer and closer to orgasm. His dick throbbed. The cock ring was removed and, while one of his Master’s hands splayed across his stomach keeping his arse still, the other stroked rapid rough strokes up his length. The ropes tugged at his wrists and ankles. There was no sound, no words, only the eruption building inside him .Just as he thought he could bear it no more his Master thrust hard once and then his stilled cock throbbed in his opening. This was all he needed to let go himself and his silent, senseless world exploded around him, everything he had and knew was the pulsing from his dick. It was all there was.
Time stopped until slowly he felt the world returning. His Master undid his mask and blindfold and ropes. He murmured to him what a good servant he was, how he’d taken his punishment well. Pride soared through him as he looked up, already planning what misdemeanour he would attempt next.
This story is available as a free PDF download on the freebies page. Enjoy.