A Day in the Life Dreams of a Lovely Marriage Conclusion
- 2 years ago
- 12
- 0
A Day In The Life: Dreams Of A Lovely Marriage (Part V) free porn video
A Day in the Life: Dreams of a Lovely Marriage
Part V
She was waiting for me, seated on the edge of the bed, and she, too, had
changed. Long ago we had invested in top-quality Dominant latex and
rubber clothing for Marla, and every time she chose to wear it, I was
overwhelmed anew. Now I instantly sank to the floor and crawled towards
the vision in black: thing-high boots, panties so tight as to reveal in
outline the goal beneath them, and an equally clinging bra with her hard
nipples obvious. The fact that it was Marla wearing it of course was
key. She was my Mistress, my Lady and my love.
Stopping when I reached her burnished, glowing spiked rubber boots, I lay
on my belly, surrendered to anything this woman wished to command.
Leaning forward, she took my shoulders in her hands and guided me
upwards, to a kneeling position.
She spoke, looking into my eyes. "I love you." Simple words but the
center of my ecstasy. Before I could reply, she put a latex-clad finger
to my lips. "Never, never, never forget that I love and respect your
strength, Ken."
I kept my gaze locked on her eyes, which spoke to me as mine did to her.
"There have been many time, my love," she continued in a low but
immensely intense tone, "when you have been my strength. When my father
died, when we left Illinois and set out on our own . . ." a pause. "Lots
of times I needed you to be strong for me, and you were. You know, you
remember." As we were quiet together, the moment seemed outside time.
She knew that we both needed her to say what she did for what followed to
be good. No weakling could please this woman--vanilla or submissive--but
when I was at the bottom, her strength was there for me.
"Now," her voice and a change in her eyes broke the moment and signaled
the transition, "get in Mommy's lap, little one."
Her warm hands never left me as I cuddled into her lap, and her arms
surrounded and held me and settled me into a position comfortable for us
both. She held me very close, my head cradled against her chest, her
hands stroking my face and hair. I started to speak, but she held me
tighter and crooned, "Shhhhhhhhh,
Shhhhhhhhhhh, little one."
While not the same as subspace, this was a time I allowed myself simply
to cling to her warmth and love. I emptied my mind and permitted the
sense of love and safety to wash over me. Like subspace but different.
Experienced only with Marla and fully only at these times.
"Nurse, sweetheart." She freed a breast from the latex, and I took the
nipple into my mouth, touching it with my lips and tongue and uttering
little noises of joy and contentment.
"Yesssssssssss," she breathed out. "Yessssssssss," so gently. "You are
my good little boy, my sweet, precious sissy. Mommy is so proud of you,
sweet little boy. Mommy loves her sissy. I never will love anyone
else."
As she continued to hold me and tell her of her love and approval, I
became aware of my sexual excitement as well as the peace and
encouragement I felt from no other earthly source. I was safe.
Eventually--again I was outside space and time--she eased me off her lap
into a standing position in front of her. Changing mood in a way only
she could, she looked me up and down and said, "Oh, no, no, no, you
naughty girl!" Her voice and expression were arch and laughing but very
strong, too. "Mommy does not want you looking like a slut. Also, that
make-up does remind me of your shameless whoredom in the restaurant.
What happens to little sissies who play the whore?"
I looked at the ground and spoke in a very small voice. "They get
punished."
Again there was laughter in her voice as she responded, "Oh, they most
certainly do!" Now her hands were not gentle as they touched me, but
firm and strong whike she pulled me over her lap. She lowered my panties
to my knees.
I gave my body up to her and felt utterly helpless and dependent on her
will. What a desired and delightful feeling it was to be so! She began
slowly, and her gloved palm descended on my bare buttocks.
She varied the location and time of each slap so that her control was
emphasized. However, the tempo did begin to increase with a consequent
increase in the pain I felt. The sound of her latex-clad palm on my
cringing flesh was like gunshots. My pathetic efforts to shift about on
her lap were obvious, but she held me tightly on her warm, firm thighs.
As the spanking continued, I began to voice the pain I felt, and she
occasionally would speak, matching the syllables of the words to the
descent of her palm. "Naugh-ty-sluts- get- spanked!" and "You-are-such-
a-lit-tle-whore!"
My cock stayed hard, a consequence of the humiliation, the helplessness,
the surrender, and the physical sensation of the contact of my sissy cock
with her flesh. Occasionally now, her blows brought forth yelps of pain
from me, but underneath the real physical hurt was joy at taking what my
Mistress chose to visit upon my naked ass and what I so much needed from
her.
She, of course, was expert at knowing how much I could bear. On only one
occasion had I ever had to plead even "yellow," and that followed an
occasion when I had foolishly bragged about how much pain I took from
her. Over time, together, we had expanded my pain tolerance. She
delighted in turning my ass bright red (not to mention the results of
various other forms of physical discipline she provided), and I wanted
deeply to give her that pleasure.
Finally, with one searing blow, she stopped, thrusting me onto the floor
at her feet. I could feel the heat of my burning ass but new better than
to touch it. "Now!" she demanded, "are you going to play the slut only
when I decide?"
Tears, which had not come during the physical agony of my spanking, now
freely overflowed my eyes and my heart as the culmination of a
combination physical/ psychological/spiritual nature of all the events of
the evening, and I sobbed, "Yes, Mistress! Yes, sweet Mistress! Thank
you, thank you, thank you for treating me like the slut that I am!"
Tears were the sign of my love, and sometimes she cried along with me.
"'Slut?'" came the stern question.
"Whore, whore, whore!" came my tearful correction. "I'm you dirty whore,
Lady!"
"Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaat's what I needed to hear," you spoke with a victorious
smile and also a look of tenderness. "Now go wash that big-girl make-up
off your face, pretty sissy, and I'll lay out something more appropriate
for you to wear."
This time not touching my panties but leaving them at my knees, I minced
as quickly as I could to the bathroom.
(more to come)
Jerri
- 06.03.2020
- 10
- 0
A Day in the Life Dreams of a Lovely Marriage Part IV
- 2 years ago
- 13
- 0
A Day in the Life Dreams of a Lovely Marriage
- 2 years ago
- 10
- 0
