My True Submissive Story
- 2 years ago
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My Night With Submissive J. (A True Story.) free porn video
It was her suggestion. She would come to spend the night with me, so much better than a brief meeting at her place.. She would submit to anything I chose to do to her. I could treat her like a whore for the whole time we were together. (She loves being called 'whore'.)
And I would be able to use the riding crop on her - the riding crop I had recently bought her. I stipulated that at no time was she to wear knickers.
She arrived earlier than expected on a bleak afternoon in early March. A woman in her late 50s, dressed in a long winter overcoat, with knee length leather boots. Just like thousands of others of her age. But as soon as the front door was shut and locked, she put down her overnight case, smiled and removed the overcoat. She was totally naked, apart from the boots and had driven the 40 miles to my place like that. No knickers, no bra, slip, nothing. I felt her and could tell that she was freshly shaved and already wet.
I led the way upstairs and she followed, the overcoat left behind.
I ordered her on the bed while I undressed. 'Open your legs wide, part your labia and masturbate while I undress,' I ordered. This she did with an eagerness that presaged well for what was to follow. I got on the bed beside her and took over the masturbation, the palm of my hand pressing on her labia and clit and my two middle fingers in her cunt. I do not believe in gentle stimulation when I am masturbating a woman, so my fingers sought out her g-spot and worked hard at it. It was not long before she came: she did so noisily, violently, tremblingly, shaking and helpless with pleasure. I did not ease up. She was mine to do as I wished with and sure enough, as I expected, she started to gush. Her lovely wetness spread everywhere: down her inner thighs, over my hand and even on to the bed. I was thankful that I had anticipated that and had made sure there were spare towels on the bed covers.
I withdrew my hand and went down on her with my lips and tongue, tasting her 'nectar' , indeed, swallowing it. I brushed the rest of her body all over with my lips -slowly, gently, seeking out those pleasure points that so many men in their haste to fuck, forget: brushing against her eyelids (now closed in bliss),her forehead, the tender inside of her arms and, of course, under her breasts, holding each one up in turn by its erect nipple to reach the sensitive flesh below,
By now I had been erect for some time and had not penetrated her. I was hard, wet and glistening in the half light, my foreskin pulled back. Now was the time to show her that she was there for my pleasure, a whore needing to be reminded of that one fact, that she was there to submit to me, her Master - any pleasures that she might receive were incidental.
I was in her. In spite of my being big and hard, she scarcely felt my entry, she was so wide and wet. Thrust after thrust, mercilessly, my whole body rubbing on her, seeking my own pleasure but at the same time giving pleasure to her. I held back just before the point of no return.
"Beat me!" she cried, "Punish me, Master!" I reached for the riding crop. It would be the first time I had used it on her. Still on her back, legs apart, she received some lashes with the leather flap of the crop on her pubis and her inner thighs. She reddened in those places from the strokes I gave her, she winced with each one, but she did not complain. I was her Master. I then did what I know she likes: I sucked and bit her nipples before putting nipple clamps on each one. She loved the pain - I could tell.
"Get up and bend over," and she did. "Legs apart, whore!". And the beating continued. The level of pain was always controlled by me. It was not beating out of hatred or a desire to inflict punishment but one designed to give both of us erotic pleasure. It was what both of us wanted and were used to.
The March afternoon's sunlight waned and evening was upon us. It was time for a break and I opened the champagne I had by for this very special occasion. We drank, we kissed, we drank some more and lay down together for some gentle caressing. "take hold of me," I said, and she reached for my cock clasping her soft hand around the shaft and rubbing it up and down before taking it in her mouth, as she had done earlier. It is always a special pleasure when she does this. Deep throat is her speciality and I enjoyed every moment, twisting my fingers in her hair and forcing her to take all of the shaft.
I had booked a table for dinner at a local restaurant and so our afternoon of lust had necessarily to be interrupted. We prepared ourselves for the evening out and dressed side by side. (I always find something very sexy about dressing together after sex.) Needless to say, she took my hand and proved to me that she was not wearing knickers!
The taxi came, we had a quiet table in a corner of the restaurant chatted about a thousand and one things and especially about the fuckings we had each had since we last met. We dined well. And then I was time to return.
I paid the taxi driver and followed her into the house. She was already stripped from the waist down ready for me. I bent her over the back of the settee and fondled her pushing her legs apart. "Time," I said " for further punishment." She did not demur. Before her arrival, I had arranged a long strap to hang down from the landing. I tied her to it after removing the rest of her clothes. A naked woman, arms tied above her head in a brightly lit house with no curtains or blinds drawn. (I could do this because I am not overlooked but she was not to know that.) A lovely, helpless sight.
I played with her, biting her nipples, feeling between her legs, slapping her with my hand - hard - and ,of course, using the riding crop on her. These mutually enjoyable pleasures went on for some time. But then it was time to lead her by the strap like a slave girl to her Master's bed, and more fucking with my finishing with an almighty mutually satisfying climax. My cum slowly trickled out of her and over and between her thighs. We were exhausted - but not too exhausted to fondle and caress as she murmured contentedly before dropping off to sleep in each other's arms.
What a joy it was to wake at first light and sleepily arouse and gently stimulate one another before finally waking.
Oh Horror! The sex juices that we had produced together had not only soaked into the towels on the bed but caused the reddish coloured one's dye to run. The duvet cover was stained with a patch of red, and the cleaning lady had only just changed the covers - and she was due again the following day. The result was that after all that sex, we were stood in the kitchen with the washing machine going in order to get the stain out. Would it come out? And then the sheet had to be dried before night! (It did and it was.)
After breakfast J had to go home. This time I allowed her to wear knickers and she was fully clothed under that overcoat. No sooner than she was a mile or two on her way home when....
Oh further Horror! She thought she had put the riding crop in her car but after a hurried phone call, I discovered it nestling, almost out of sight slipped between the cushions on an armchair. It was almost invisible because chair cushions and crop are both of very dark colour. What would my cleaner have thought of this 'respectable' man if she had found it? The tale would have been all round the village in no time!
The moral of this tale? If you are going to be decidedly immoral, make sure you prepare for all eventualities and clear up carefully afterwards.
Of course, J will have to be punished when I next see her.....
BY
And I would be able to use the riding crop on her - the riding crop I had recently bought her. I stipulated that at no time was she to wear knickers.
She arrived earlier than expected on a bleak afternoon in early March. A woman in her late 50s, dressed in a long winter overcoat, with knee length leather boots. Just like thousands of others of her age. But as soon as the front door was shut and locked, she put down her overnight case, smiled and removed the overcoat. She was totally naked, apart from the boots and had driven the 40 miles to my place like that. No knickers, no bra, slip, nothing. I felt her and could tell that she was freshly shaved and already wet.
I led the way upstairs and she followed, the overcoat left behind.
I ordered her on the bed while I undressed. 'Open your legs wide, part your labia and masturbate while I undress,' I ordered. This she did with an eagerness that presaged well for what was to follow. I got on the bed beside her and took over the masturbation, the palm of my hand pressing on her labia and clit and my two middle fingers in her cunt. I do not believe in gentle stimulation when I am masturbating a woman, so my fingers sought out her g-spot and worked hard at it. It was not long before she came: she did so noisily, violently, tremblingly, shaking and helpless with pleasure. I did not ease up. She was mine to do as I wished with and sure enough, as I expected, she started to gush. Her lovely wetness spread everywhere: down her inner thighs, over my hand and even on to the bed. I was thankful that I had anticipated that and had made sure there were spare towels on the bed covers.
I withdrew my hand and went down on her with my lips and tongue, tasting her 'nectar' , indeed, swallowing it. I brushed the rest of her body all over with my lips -slowly, gently, seeking out those pleasure points that so many men in their haste to fuck, forget: brushing against her eyelids (now closed in bliss),her forehead, the tender inside of her arms and, of course, under her breasts, holding each one up in turn by its erect nipple to reach the sensitive flesh below,
By now I had been erect for some time and had not penetrated her. I was hard, wet and glistening in the half light, my foreskin pulled back. Now was the time to show her that she was there for my pleasure, a whore needing to be reminded of that one fact, that she was there to submit to me, her Master - any pleasures that she might receive were incidental.
I was in her. In spite of my being big and hard, she scarcely felt my entry, she was so wide and wet. Thrust after thrust, mercilessly, my whole body rubbing on her, seeking my own pleasure but at the same time giving pleasure to her. I held back just before the point of no return.
"Beat me!" she cried, "Punish me, Master!" I reached for the riding crop. It would be the first time I had used it on her. Still on her back, legs apart, she received some lashes with the leather flap of the crop on her pubis and her inner thighs. She reddened in those places from the strokes I gave her, she winced with each one, but she did not complain. I was her Master. I then did what I know she likes: I sucked and bit her nipples before putting nipple clamps on each one. She loved the pain - I could tell.
"Get up and bend over," and she did. "Legs apart, whore!". And the beating continued. The level of pain was always controlled by me. It was not beating out of hatred or a desire to inflict punishment but one designed to give both of us erotic pleasure. It was what both of us wanted and were used to.
The March afternoon's sunlight waned and evening was upon us. It was time for a break and I opened the champagne I had by for this very special occasion. We drank, we kissed, we drank some more and lay down together for some gentle caressing. "take hold of me," I said, and she reached for my cock clasping her soft hand around the shaft and rubbing it up and down before taking it in her mouth, as she had done earlier. It is always a special pleasure when she does this. Deep throat is her speciality and I enjoyed every moment, twisting my fingers in her hair and forcing her to take all of the shaft.
I had booked a table for dinner at a local restaurant and so our afternoon of lust had necessarily to be interrupted. We prepared ourselves for the evening out and dressed side by side. (I always find something very sexy about dressing together after sex.) Needless to say, she took my hand and proved to me that she was not wearing knickers!
The taxi came, we had a quiet table in a corner of the restaurant chatted about a thousand and one things and especially about the fuckings we had each had since we last met. We dined well. And then I was time to return.
I paid the taxi driver and followed her into the house. She was already stripped from the waist down ready for me. I bent her over the back of the settee and fondled her pushing her legs apart. "Time," I said " for further punishment." She did not demur. Before her arrival, I had arranged a long strap to hang down from the landing. I tied her to it after removing the rest of her clothes. A naked woman, arms tied above her head in a brightly lit house with no curtains or blinds drawn. (I could do this because I am not overlooked but she was not to know that.) A lovely, helpless sight.
I played with her, biting her nipples, feeling between her legs, slapping her with my hand - hard - and ,of course, using the riding crop on her. These mutually enjoyable pleasures went on for some time. But then it was time to lead her by the strap like a slave girl to her Master's bed, and more fucking with my finishing with an almighty mutually satisfying climax. My cum slowly trickled out of her and over and between her thighs. We were exhausted - but not too exhausted to fondle and caress as she murmured contentedly before dropping off to sleep in each other's arms.
What a joy it was to wake at first light and sleepily arouse and gently stimulate one another before finally waking.
Oh Horror! The sex juices that we had produced together had not only soaked into the towels on the bed but caused the reddish coloured one's dye to run. The duvet cover was stained with a patch of red, and the cleaning lady had only just changed the covers - and she was due again the following day. The result was that after all that sex, we were stood in the kitchen with the washing machine going in order to get the stain out. Would it come out? And then the sheet had to be dried before night! (It did and it was.)
After breakfast J had to go home. This time I allowed her to wear knickers and she was fully clothed under that overcoat. No sooner than she was a mile or two on her way home when....
Oh further Horror! She thought she had put the riding crop in her car but after a hurried phone call, I discovered it nestling, almost out of sight slipped between the cushions on an armchair. It was almost invisible because chair cushions and crop are both of very dark colour. What would my cleaner have thought of this 'respectable' man if she had found it? The tale would have been all round the village in no time!
The moral of this tale? If you are going to be decidedly immoral, make sure you prepare for all eventualities and clear up carefully afterwards.
Of course, J will have to be punished when I next see her.....
BY
Aspen
- 22.11.2022
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