She whimpered and bent them, and I took a fairly loose, lightweight plastic clip from my pocket and held it up. Then I began to play with her pussy to make her clitoris harden and in no time at all, she was wetting the bed. “Oh, God; oh, God,” she gasped, wriggling.
“You'd better hold still,” I advised, and I clipped her.
Instantly she arched. “Ow! Ah! Oh!” she shrieked and Paprika started barking.
“Get up and make her be quiet,” I said.
Lynn roused herself from subspace, opened the door and growled some words that sounded Russian. The dog went silent, and Lynn came back to the bed. Without being told, she knelt and licked my boots. “I apologize for the interruption, Major."
“It's nice to know she can act like a real dog,” I joked. “Now, lay face-down on the bed. Let's see how you like the crop."
I took it out and swished it around a bit, using the noise to get her excited. I shoved it under her nose on the bed. “Kiss it,” I demanded.
She did it, moaning.
“Shall I gag you this time?” I asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “Rika may start up again."
I had a very small ball gag and I stuck it in her mouth. “It's not secured because some people find it scary. If you need to spit it out, go ahead. But I suggest you bite down on it to keep from screaming."
Lynn grunted her assent, and I stepped back and whacked her tight ass several times without stopping.
She started with surprise at the intensity of the sensation, and soon she was twisting under the blows, but in a very sinuous and sexy way that really got my juices flowing. I began to moan with need myself. But we had barely gotten started.
“Turn over, Lynn” I told her after she had very happily taken 20 lashes.
She flipped herself and looked up at me adoringly, and I smiled. “Spread your legs."
Lynn didn't lose a nanosecond obeying, and I gave her six more sharp strokes on the insides of each of her thighs while she thrust up at me trying to get more. “Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmm!” she moaned through the gag, which she was not inclined to spit out after all.
I stopped and watched her skin redden. I bent and kissed the soft, hot skin and she thrust up at me, seeking more sensation. I pulled back and flicked her clip and Lynn bucked wildly on the bed. Juices ran freely from between her legs. I flicked it a couple more times and watched her dance and squirm. Then I slid her down onto the floor and put my heel in her bush and massaged her, careful to avoid the clip further down.
Lynn was going wild. The clip intensified everything and made her desperate for release. But she still had a long way to go.
In my briefcase I had spreaders to keep her legs apart, and I pulled them out and attached them to her ankles. Then I put a dildo in her, set on low like before, shackled her hands behind her back, and went away for a while. It would seem an eternity to her.
After perhaps ten minutes, I returned with a pitcher of ice water. I found Lynn writhing like a madwoman on her back, probably on the edge of an orgasm she couldn't achieve without my assistance or permission.
I poured two glasses of water, one for each of us, because I knew she was getting hot and tired. But before I let her have any, I lifted her legs up by the spreader bar, took an ice cube and shoved it up her ass.
“Let me know when that melts,” I said as she flailed around madly, stimulated so many ways and unable to get off. It was a riot. I could tell from her glazed expression that she had never been happier.
“Mmm-mm-mm. Mmm-mm-mm,” she grunted.
“It's melted? Okay,” I said agreeably. “Sit up."
I knelt and removed the handcuffs and gag. I handed her the water and she drank a few gulps. “Thank you, thank you,” she gasped.
I ruffled her hair playfully. “How do you feel, slave?"
“I ache, I need to come, I wanna eat you, I wanna lick your boots,” she recited, her eyes glazing with utter longing and sincerity. Or maybe just lust.
“In good time, you slut. Just think how helpless you are, how much at my mercy you are,” I told her.
“May I grovel, Major?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course,” I said grandly. “It's why you exist, slave. Get down and kiss my boots, and then I'll let you have my pussy. Watching you suffer is very stimulating."
“Oh, I'm glad,” she sighed, and then she was on her face, scraping her clips on the rug as she did my bidding.
There was no way I could stand to wait very much longer, regardless of what she felt. I knew her willingness to wait all day to come was unfeigned; not being sure of orgasm was so stimulating that she could tolerate it indefinitely. That's where your mind goes when you're a sub. How well I knew! However, as the dominant, I had a choice, and I was about to exercise it.
“Lynn, open my pants and lick me out. I want to get off on your face,” I ordered.
She popped up instantly and hugged my waist, then opened my pants and waited to see how I wanted it. I regarded her indulgently for a moment, then put the gag back in, reached between her legs and flicked the clip. She screeched through the rubber and fell over on her side, convulsing as pre-orgasmic spasms assaulted her. It made me wish we could trade places.
I sat on the bed and removed the gag again. I waited for her to collect herself, and then I pointed at my own wet, aching pussy. “Eat me, slave,” I said softly, and I lay back to allow her access.
“Mmmmm, Lynn, that is so good. Nice and slow,” I sighed as she made circles, entered me, retreated, and repeated the cycle endlessly. She had quickly learned what I liked, the pressure, the pace, and the strokes. I held her head down and caressed her scalp, loving the feel of that soft hair. “Ohhhhhh, Lynn,” I moaned. I was so in love.
Her hands were under my ass, squeezing, lifting, caressing me, and she was moaning, too, the realization of my pleasure pleasing her, as it should have. Pleasing the dominant is every bit as stimulating to the sub as are pain, humiliation and denial. Some subs live for their dominant's pleasure alone; they don't want anything else. I could get into that on a situational basis, so I understood. But not coming indefinitely was a tad too extreme. And it wouldn't have worked for Lynn, either. She was way too strong a personality for that.
Pretty soon I was ready to climax, so I began to talk about it for Lynn's benefit. “Oh, honey, I am so close. I feel so hard. I'm so damn ready… oooohhhh, baby, lick me. Suck up that honey, lover. Get every drop."
“Yes, oh, yes, Major,” she grunted as she licked. “Come on me. Please come on me."
I pushed down into her and used my boot heels on her bare back to drive her on. It made me wish I were wearing spurs. Maybe next time.
When I felt Lynn banging her pelvis against the side of the bed in desperation, it triggered my own memories of lengthy denial and shot me right over the top. I convulsed, came in her mouth, and she groaned deeply and buried herself in me, intensifying my orgasms and getting soaked in the process. I continued to thrust into her until I couldn't come anymore, and believe me, I didn't hold back a bit. I used her exactly as she had begged me to do. I was too weak to push her away, so I let her clean me with her tongue. It was my right as a dominant anyway, to be cleaned up by my slave.
“Lynn,” I mumbled. “Mmmm, Lynn, that's enough. Stop."
She withdrew and I sat up. “You give head like a real slutty little streetwalker, you know that?"
“Yes, I'm scum. Punish me,” she begged.
“You're not fit to lick my boots, much less shine them, but I'm going to let you do both,” I told her. “Stand up."
She did, and I flicked the clip on her clit. Her eyes rolled back and her knees buckled, but I caught her in my arms. I tossed her onto the bed and went hunting for a stool that would work for my next trick. Lynn had decorative little items all over the house and pretty soon I found one in the shape of a leather camel I thought would work.
She was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling when I came back. When I walked in, she slid to the floor on her face. “Please let me come,” she moaned into the carpet.