Union Negotiation
- 3 years ago
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Beyond Negotiation free porn video
Of course, I can't see them, but I am picturing how my bright-red shiny
toenails would look as I wiggle them. Encased in shimmering white thigh-
high stockings attached to my white-lace garter belt, the sensation I
feel as they occasionally rub together is one of the many thrills
accosting my body. The pink 6" patent-leather heels, just a shade too
tight on my feet, only serve to reinforce my predicament.
Over the garter belt I'm wearing what Mistress calls my "spank-me"
panties. Satiny-white, to call them crotch-less is an understatement as
they are open from the waist in the front all the way to the back almost
as if each half was separate. Over this, though currently hiked up as I
lay over Mistress' lap, is my short pink skirt. Mistress calls it my
"ballerina" skirt because when I'm serving in it, it flares out
dramatically.
The only other article of clothing I have on is a pink and black racer-
back sports bra. The tightness of the straps across my back produces an
exquisite feeling as if I'm wearing a harness. The cups are lightly
padded and would show modest protrusion if I had a top on over them. I
rub my chest on the bed to feel the sensation the material produces on my
nipples.
As with the shoes, stockings, and bra, the large heavy hoop earrings
dangling from each of my lobes produce a titillating additional tactile
reminder of my attire.
Not that I would consider voicing any complaints or discomforts brought
on by my 'uniform' but should I wish to, only the most primitive guttural
grunts would come out of my tightly-gagged mouth. With a thick leather
strap buckled behind my head and a chin strap to keep the large black
ball in place, communication is next to impossible. Drool, though, is
plentiful and strange as it seems, the drooling is the only thing I find
even slightly embarrassing. Everything else feels quite natural.
Under the mask Mistress placed over my eyes I can still feel the mascara,
eye-liner, and the dramatic blue eye-shadow not only on my eye-lids, but
below them as well. This style we copied from a glamour magazine and is
what I see in my mind's eye when I think of my makeup.
Even if my blindfold were removed, I would be unable to gaze upon my
gorgeous manicure. Short but very feminine and the same bright-red as my
toes, I never get tired of glancing down at my hands first with fingers
extended, then flipping them over and looking at my sexy curled fingers.
But I must be content to leave that vision in my imagination as my hands
are tightly bound in pink bondage mittens, linked together, and attached
by a short chain to a post in the wrought-iron headboard of the bed.
My submission is completed by the pink CB-3000 chastity device that
engulfs my penis. Though many slaves feel their captivity is justified
due to a small member, I can tell you that Mistress loves my rather
sizeable shaft. At the moment, however, my size is a profound
disadvantage.
Everything described thus far is the result of several years of
negotiated play. It wasn't long after we met that I let Mistress know
that I enjoyed strict and prolonged bondage. Though not terribly
experienced with having tied a lover up, it didn't take her long to
become comfortable with having multiple orgasms while using me as her
'toy.' She brought up the subject often and many times had the cuffs
already attached to the bed when I came home.
As my feelings quickly deepened for her, I felt I had to share my dark
secret: that while I enjoyed being tied up, the ultimate eroticism for me
was to be feminized (and then tied up!)
Now those of you reading this who are cross dressers understand what I'm
talking about and where the dilemma comes in. Telling a partner about
your 'hobby' is one of the most terrifying things you can imagine. Many
of us have hidden this part of our lives since adolescence or earlier.
We've read about women leaving boyfriends or husbands over similar
revelations. I myself have only ever told one other woman. And though in
that instance she was indifferent, I was terrified of revealing my secret
now.
So in an intimate, post-coital, post-bondage moment one evening, I
confessed everything. I detailed all the outfits, lingerie, shoes, nail
polish, everything. And if I didn't think I had an amazing girlfriend
before (which, of course, I did), well, her response just blew me away.
She talked about a former boyfriend who liked to wear her underwear to
work. How she could see he got a kick out of it but since she really
wasn't that 'in' to him, it didn't turn her on. But with me, she said
almost immediately, "I'm already thinking of the possibilities!" In fact,
that very night she suggested I wear her panties to dinner. I balked but
she pressed the point and insisted. It was the last time she ever had to
work on me to get me to dress up.
Now typically she dresses me once or twice a month. Sometimes she'll
stretch it out longer knowing that her power over me grows every day as
the urge builds up.
Then one night when I was feeling particularly thankful for this
wonderful, supportive Mistress, she asked me if I'd ever been spanked.
"No," I replied. "Would you like to be?" she inquired further. I hadn't
really thought about it up until that moment. Pain does not excite me.
But submission surely does. So I told her just that and we dropped the
subject for the evening.
As the days went by, I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like
to be on the receiving end of a spanking. The next time she restrained
and dressed me all I could think about was what would being spanked feel
like right now? What started to form in my mind just then would bring our
play to a whole new level.
The next day I was ready to discuss the subject of spanking. The thought
of pain was still not a thrill but the thought of having something done
to me that I COULD NOT STOP couldn't have been more enticing. After much
discussion and negotiation, we resolved that 1) She would spank me, 2)
She would decide when, where, and all the particulars, 3) I was to buy a
wooden paddle for the purpose, and 4) (Most importantly) I would not have
a safe word nor would I have any way to stop her.
Our first spanking session was a success and fulfilling for both of us.
The white-birch paddle was short but thick and quite solid. She put me on
all fours naked on the bed and administered about a dozen hard, accurate
shots. We both knew she would only stop when she alone felt like it. She
felt the power and I felt the submission. She may not have tried this
before but she was quite a natural, I assure you. Looking over my
shoulder in the bathroom mirror, the crimson blush of my butt left no
doubt as to what had transpired.
For the first time in my life I felt as though I had no control at all
and it was so very freeing, even more so than in any of our bondage
sessions. We refined things and tried various techniques over the days
that followed and so tonight here I am, perfectly and completely
submissive and vulnerable. Mistress is quietly satisfied with the control
and power she maintains when I'm in this state.
What's coming next makes me shake with trepidation. For the moment
Mistress is sweetly and lovingly rubbing my panty-clad butt but that only
serves to contrast what follows.
The initial caress of my rear end is sweet and gentle. This can go on for
fifteen minutes or longer. But suddenly at some point and without
warning...WHACK...and then...WHACK, her bare hand contacts my cheeks. The thin
material of the panty provides no protection at all. While these bare-
handed slaps sting, I can tolerate them. But I know that's just the warm-
up. After five or ten of these, I've come to expect she's moving on.
All at once she picks up the wooden paddle and lands a severe blow. Then
another, and another. And so it continues. She might give me twenty, or
forty, or however many she feels like. I don't know as I lose any ability
to focus. Each blow is a staggering sting and sends a shudder through me.
(Mistress can feel my shuddering. She's told me how powerful it makes her
feel.) It hurts so much but I know there's no way to stop it.
With each blow I hope it's the last. But at that moment I belong to her
totally. I love and crave being at her mercy. I trust Mistress as
completely as one person can trust another.
But all I want in the world is for each stinging slap to be the last one.
I curse myself for insisting that a safe word is unnecessary. But what
good what it do me anyhow as it would just come out in the same garbled
tone as my current grunting? My mind is adrift. I am just an object at
her whim. I can just make out her own moans of pleasure as I know she's
delighting in her total control of me.
Just when my mind finally ceases to consider that the last smack will
ever come, when I'm engulfed in being only a toy for her pleasure, the
blows do seem to stop. Is it just for a moment? Is Mistress repositioning
herself? I don't even want to hazard a guess lest my internal pleading
betray my hope.
Before the thought fully forms in my mind, I've been flipped over on my
back but I have no idea why. This is totally new. She raises my head
slightly from the bed (my mittened hands still fastened above me) and I
realize she's reaching around to the buckle on the gag. My jaw is already
sore from the size of the ball not to mention from biting down each time
the paddle landed. I'm worried because I don't think I can take the gag
any tighter so I moan an unintelligible plea for her to stop. But to my
elation, she's actually removing the gag. Once it's out I wiggle my jaw
to revive it.
I'm panting from the overwhelming sensations I'm receiving and try to
calm myself. After what seems like an eternity, Mistress puts a finger in
my mouth. I instinctively start to suck it for all I'm worth. Mistress
loves me to suck on her fingers - she's told me how erotic it is to see
how I lustily devour them and how subservient I look doing it. But in a
flash she pulls away only to treat me to an ice cube. The cool wetness is
surely welcome though until that moment I didn't realize I had any
thirst, given my state of complete emotional devotion.
The ice is only between my lips for a second or two. It is quickly
removed and in the same motion, she's taken my blindfold off. She speaks
not a word as my eyes adjust to the light. She is a gorgeous, sexy sight.
Her smile captivates me as always. But I can see that this smile includes
a deep measure of satisfaction. Since she hasn't spoken, I do not make a
sound either. She kisss me deeply, her tongue penetrating my mouth. I
relax as our fun scene ends.
But it doesn't end at all.....Deftly, she climbs up and straddles my face.
She lowers her wet pussy hard on my mouth and I greedily kiss and suck
her vaginal lips and then flick my tongue across her engorged clit. I am
ecstatic to be able to look up at her face as she grabs the bars of the
headboard to aid in pushing her body down on my face as I thrust my
tongue deep into her slit. Her eyes close as she leans her head back and
creates a rhythm I'm only too happy to match. She shifts slightly, opens
her eyes, and marvels as my image comes to her in the mirror behind the
bed. Later she'll say that opening her eyes to see me completely
restrained and dolled up gets her wet every time she thinks of it.
Before meeting Mistress, I assumed that the stories of women climaxing
over and over during a single sex session was the fanciful writings of
creative authors. I now know very differently. On this occasion she rode
my face to four consecutive orgasms, pausing briefly only once to let me
wet my lips on the ice cube.
Her pleasure, she'll inform me, was enhanced a thousand-fold knowing the
cunnilingus she'd received was as a result of her complete control of me.
Mistress relaxes by stretching out on top of me. Kissing my lips lightly
over and over. Then she turns her long, slender neck towards my face so I
can bite and kiss it repeatedly. With her nose she teases my dangling
earrings. Finally she exhales deeply and I'm convinced she's falling
asleep right on top of me.
My cock strains against the walls of the CB-3000. But as Mistress taught
me early in our play, these sessions are about her pleasure not mine.
Much as I need to cum, I've learned not to expect release in return for
my participation so I try to relax hoping my erection might subside
somewhat. This is made more difficult as a burning sensation from the
spanking is starting to take hold. The thought that my posterior was just
reddened by Mistress is too powerful and erotic.
It wasn't hard for Mistress to figure out that by dressing me up and
tying me down, my obedience is unwavering. She'll sometimes keep me in
the CB-3000 for days at a time but we don't even lock it. It's only there
to reinforce her emotional dominance over me. I wouldn't dream of taking
it off without permission any more than I'd consider removing my nail
polish or slipping out of my bra if she's told me to wear it.
Once when I was on a business trip, she had me paint my toenails before I
left and insisted I wear only her panties during my entire time away.
Each night I called her to describe how I looked while she masturbated. I
was commanded to listen and forbidden to touch myself in any manner. I
got down and kissed her feet when I returned home for keeping my mind so
subservient despite the distance that separated us.
Her warmth radiates a deep satisfaction within me as I feel grateful to
be in this position, one so many subs crave. As amazing as this woman is
in every way, you'd think I'd stop underestimating her sexual voracity.
She's only just regrouping as she wiggles her sex against my poor cock's
prison. I close my eyes tight hoping that somehow it will help keep my
hard-on in check. But then, to my surprise, I feel the device coming off.
I open my eyes and stare at her in disbelief. She's smiling wide and
looking at me. As she discards it I spring free.
With a snicker she straddles me and easily slides down my muscle. Her
dripping wet pussy envelopes my rod as I feel her juices all over me. She
squeezes my breasts through the bra. How can she possibly cum again? But
she does. And so do I with four or five spasms as hard as I've ever felt
them. I can feel the cum shooting out into her and then dripping down our
bodies a moment later.
Now she rolls off and cuddles up by my side. I'd hug her if I could but
she still obviously wants me bound like this. Our breathing subsides and
she towels our sweat (and other fluids) off. After a few minutes she gets
up to stretch near the foot of the bed. I gaze at her beauty and
sexuality in amazement. I drop my head back down as my neck tires. I
exhale loudly. My breath happens to coincide with a metal click. I look
up again to see that my ankle has just been encased in a large handcuff
and is presently being tugged to the rail at the corner of the bed with
another strap. It's an incredibly sexy site to see the steel cuff just
above my pink heels.
Even after all that's transpired, I'm still surprised that she's got some
other trick up her sleeve. I don't ask why, of course. (You can see how
well I've been trained.) My other ankle is secured in similar fashion to
the other corner of the bed so now I'm fully spread-eagle.
I'm guessing now that Mistress is going to lay on me again as she'll
occasionally 'wiggle' herself to another orgasm or two on me after I've
gone flaccid. One would think I'd stop guessing at these things since I'm
almost always wrong. But I am guessing, of course. I am wrong again, of
course.
She jumps up and straddles my face again. I'm in shock and want to speak
but, again, think better of it. Not only have I never performed oral on a
woman I've just cum in, the idea's never even occurred to me. Even with
all the exploration that's gone on in our sex life these last many
months, with all the various restraints I've been in, and with the bras,
panties, corsets, high heels, makeup, and nail polish we've played with I
find the prospect now of licking my own seed to be the most humiliating
thought. After all, we've discussed so many aspects of our sexual play at
such great length but we've never, ever touched on this.
Mistress is very matter-of-fact as she slides over my face one more time.
I lick and suck yet again. And while I'm genuinely humiliated, I also get
a huge rush as, just as with the spanking, I am truly under her control.
No safe word, no stopping, just pure domination. Naturally, she cums
again. Now both of our juices roll down my cheek.
She stretches out on me again, this time nuzzling my neck. Finally she
speaks. "You have been a very good slave."
"Thank you, Mistress, that was amazing."
"You know I'll do this again whenever I feel like it."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," I reply. I bat my eyes and she laughs
at the movement of my feminized lashes. And I think to myself, "I have
never been freer."
Lianne
- 13.02.2022
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