Recollections of a Happily Owned Girl - Part3: Kissing Leather Title: Recollections of a Happily Owned Girl - Part 3: Kissing Leather Genre: Original fic, F/F, PWP Warnings: NC-17, BDSM, WIP A/N: This wound up being a bitch for me to get out, bbtp_challenge gave me just enough prompting to finally do so. So I won't make promises about when part 4 will be finished, only that it will be finished, and it will be the end of this wip. And xie_xie_xie i'm very sorry, but yes I have written more cliffhanger!porn. Self-beta'd, mistakes are all mine. Cross-posted on my journal.
I'm fucking flying. I'm in the zone where everything starts to happen in a fog, and later on I'll find the events hard to recall. It's the zone where every sensation goes straight to your clit, where everything feels amazing. There is nowhere else I ever want to be. If my body could handle it, I'd take up permanent residence in that place.
Sir is steadily beating my ass with a thin wooden cane, and in that moment nothing exists in my world but the melody of wood on flesh. I know she is marking me, I know I'll see the evidence in the morning, I know if I think too hard about that it will probably make me come, and then she will stop, so far better to just concentrate on the melody and not think at all.
The deviations in her rhythm, an unexpected strike across a shoulder blade or hip that sends an electric current straight to my clit, these things remind me who is in control. Each time my focus is forced back to an individual strike, there is a brief pulse of pleasure between my legs that makes me moan, and I once again remember how badly I want to come again.
When she stops, I'm not sure I even notice, until her physical proximity temporarily grounds me, reminds me of where I am, and why. She is standing at my side, one hand on my ass rubbing the inflamed skin, not to soothe it, but pressing hard against it, reminding me that she is the one who marked me, and that I enjoyed every minute. Her other hand is between my legs, teasing and light, slipping through the wetness and touching me everywhere but where I'm begging to be touched.
I'm squirming now, trying to get her hands where I want them, so she just takes them away, and brings her fingers up to my lips so I can lick them clean, and taste myself on her.
She's packing, and I can feel it pressed against my hip, and even though that would never happen, not here, I'm begging before I can stop myself.
"Fuck me, please. Please Sir. Fuck. Me."
"You want me to fuck you?"
"Yes, God. Please."
"Right here in front of everyone? Lying on your back? Legs spread so fucking wide."
Her hand is back between my legs now. One finger slides firmly back and forth. She repeats the path again and again; from just below my clit to my cunt, glazing over the opening and never going inside, then back up. It's maddening, and I'm pulling at my restraints, once again oblivious to everything except the way in which she is playing my body.
"Show everyone how fucking wet you are? Such a slut."
Her other hand is moving now as well, reaching between my legs from behind just long enough to slick her fingers before she traces them back, gently rubbing the outside of my asshole.
"Don't you dare fucking come," she whispers sadistically and she slides her fingers alongside my clit with just enough pressure to do make me do exactly that.
She presses her hand against me; letting me ride it out as I come so hard I can barely breathe. She doesn't leave my side till the aftershocks have subsided and I've regained some control.
The act of coming has cleared my head enough to make me realize I'm totally fucked. Three strikes you're out, and I was set up to fail. It makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time as I mumble a worthless apology, "I'm sorry Sir."
Master answers with the bite of a single-tail on my back.
The idea of punishment is to remind you of exactly where you belong – on your hands and knees, kissing leather a couple inches off the ground, and grateful for the privilege. When you are so fucking high you can’t even remember which direction is down, it’s sort of irrelevant. Punishment nearly ceases to exist.