Caught

You're behind me, and I lean back a little, feeling your warm breath on my neck. You'd just walked into the room, and I'm pulling clothes out of my bag, getting prepared for the weekend. All of a sudden, you grab me and pull me towards you. Next thing I know, my pants are around my knees, my underwear are being pulled down, and your thumb is inside me, your fingers cupping my mound, teasing my clit.

I'm thrilled inside, and nervous outside, because you seem to be in a rough mood. Because all of a sudden I've peaked, and now you're pulling your cock out of your jeans, and pushing my chest down onto the bed, barely missing a beat as you thrust inside me. It's good, I'm noisy, and being able to scream into the comforter is always helpful. My clothes come off, but I barely notice.

I orgasm once or twice positioned like that, before you gruffly tell me to flip over, putting my legs up by your shoulders. You stare at me, and I feel a little slutty being on display like I am. I think you can read my thoughts, because that's what you call me "my slut" before you shudder and finish inside me.

Vignettes

This is turning into a bit of a series.

I'm alone with my vibrator, and I'm thinking dirty thoughts. I have permission to come as many times as I want, and I plan on taking advantage of that. I tease my clit, thinking of how you went down on me last night, teasing me with your tounge. I rub myself lower, as I imagine you calling me a slut and whispering naughty things in my ears as you play with my nipples. I push my vibrator inside of me, fantisizing about the next time you'll tie me up on your bed, spanking me until I beg you to take me, and I finally come thinking about having your cock inside of me, pounding me as I tell you to fuck me harder and harder.

----

I'm tied up on the bed, face down, and I can't hear what you're doing. The first hit of the flogger on my back comes as a shock, and I breath out an unfortunate "ow" before I realize what I'm doing.

"What was that, Jane?"

"Nothing, Sir, it was nothing."

"Are you sure? Because I am sure that I heard you say 'ow.' You aren't allowed to say 'ow,' if you recall."

Another hit, harder than the last, though I manage to stay quiet for this one.

"What are you supposed to say, Jane? What do you say when it hurts?"

"Thank you, Sir."

"Good girl."

----

"What does this mean, Jane?"

You have a hold on my collar, pulling me so I can almost not breath, so that I am rather uncomfortable, so I have no choice but to answer you, because I can't do anything else.

I linger a bit longer than you'd like, and you jerk my collar again.

"Stop pouting and answer. What does this collar that you are wearing mean?"

In a small voice, I respond, "It means I belong to you."

Absence...

...makes the heart grow fonder.

Finishing up college, moving, and having some other things come to a head really means that my sex drive, and my erotica writing, has taken a back seat recently. 

Hopefully I'll return soon. 

Beautiful

I am standing, though not standing really, because what do you call it when your hands are tied above your head and attached to the ceiling? My feet are on the ground anyways, and my head is down a little, just enough to have my hair fall in my face a bit, before you brush it away. Your hand grazes my cheek, and I tingle with anticipation. 

"How do you feel, right now?" You ask, quietly, commandingly, expecting an answer, though I can tell you will wait for the truth. 

I think. How do I feel? In truth, it is now, when I am at my most vulnerable, that I feel my most powerful. I know who I am, and I embrace it. I turn towards you, slightly, and though I don't look directly at you, I answer, "Vulnerable, but strong." 

"Good girl," you answer. You think for a minute. "You know what I see when I look at you like this?" 

"What, Sir?" I am curious. 

"I see a beautiful young woman." You say. Another pause. "And I see my sexy little slut." 

Another tingle. I love it when you talk like that to me. You circle me, your hands touching here and there, a caress across my side, and pinch on my arm, a smack on my ass. I watch in the mirror off to the side. I watch you examine your sexy little slut, and I revel in the fact that I know I bring you pleasure. 

I watch as you get down on the floor, and I don't really understand what you're doing, when all of a sudden I feel your warm breath between my legs and your tongue on my clit. I don't like this usually, but I don't have a choice, and you know that. You lick a little, and look up at me, pleased with yourself, before telling me, "You will not come without my permission. You will ask, and I will say yes or no. If I say no, you will not come. Are we clear?" 

I nod, mumbling a little, "Yes, Sir." 

You go back to paying complete attention to my clit. Your tongue warms me up in the cold room, prodding, tickling, teasing, driving me insane. My knees start to give away, slightly, and I shake a little. I know this pleases you, and I know you are trying to prove to me that you can get me off like this.

You continue to taste me with your mouth, and slowly push a finger into my pussy. You know you are starting to get to me, and I am very much enjoying the attention. I ask, "Can I come, Sir? Please?" 

"No." You respond. "Tonight, I want to hear you beg for it." 

I pause. I wonder how long I can take this before I am begging in earnest. I wait a little longer. The feeling of your warm lips and your face in my pussy is so heavenly that I almost don't want to come, because it will end the blissful feelings you're causing to course through my body. But you do so like it when I beg.

"Sir? Sir, can I please come?" I shake a bit. "Please let me come Sir, I need to come so badly, please?" I'm almost whimpering, sounding as pathetic as I can. You shake your head, continuing to tease. 

"No, Sir, I can't wait any longer, please, let me come, please." 

You stop and pull your face back to look at me, still slowly fucking me with your finger, and smile. "Yes." 

Train

So I wrote this with a specific blogger in mind, mainly because he seems to write so many posts which involve imagining the plight of girls on trains. This, however, is mostly true (like everything else I write, anyways). 

Sitting on the top level of the train, I hope that it escapes most people's notice that I have been reading the first page of my novel for the past ten minutes of the ride. It's a big difficult to focus when I know what I'm traveling toward. 

"I think I'm going to tie you up, dear, and spank you with that little paddle you absolutely love so much." 

I squirm a bit, glancing around. I can't believe I actually ask for this. My feelings are torn between anxious and aroused, and I giggle a little to myself, my secret making me a bit giddy. I wonder how many other people on the train have similar double lives, and wonder if anybody can guess, from the look on my face, what I'll be doing later.

"Then, after that, there's the riding crop. I know you adore that as well, Jane." 

It's announced that the next stop is mine. I slowly gather my belongings, making sure I don't forget my train pass. I walk to the vestibule, as the train slows down, getting ready to stop. I step down the stairs onto the platform, glancing around nervously.

"And when you've had too much, you'll thank me for it, won't you?" 

I spot him, tall and strong, waiting for me. I glance downwards,  put one foot in front of the other, and we meet up. I can't put it off any longer. He gathers me up in a big hug, but I don't miss his words. 

"I know you can't wait to feel my hands on your ass. Good to see you, darling." 

----

The next morning, when I'm traveling back to the city on the train, I'm a little sore.  I squirm a bit, glancing around. I can't believe I actually ask for this.