Bdsm Pics

              
    

Rewarding good behavior... Story Scene-

SCENE:

        He bent me over the couch and raised my skirt. I felt him undoing his pants, my knees close to buckling from anticipation. Five smacks fell heavily over the right side of my ass. Pain swelled and shuddered through my nerves. More, my mind went white with need as I fought to keep from writhing. The dark edge to his dominance crashed through the shields around my submission. I shuddered and let the need go, surrendering to his control and the ways he chose to touch me.

        Bracing my hands on the soft, wide armrest, I moaned when his cock slid inside me. I pushed my hips back into his, panting when he grabbed my waist. He pulled my head toward his chest and forced my hips higher for his fast, hard thrusts. I smelled pot and sex, hearing the slap of flesh hitting flesh. His fingers dug into my hips, roughly yet slowly pulling back, pushing me forward. He alternated, smacking both sides of my ass, pausing to let me fuck him harder. The pain made me wetter for him. 

        He had me stand, my hips pressed hard against the edge of his sofa. I shivered when the head of his cock rubbed firmly against my g-spot. My head rested against the inside of his right shoulder. I turned my face toward his neck, kissing and licking, sucking gently before letting my teeth graze over his skin. My back arched, holding for as long as my endurance held out. He raised my chin and kissed me as his hand covered my neck. I could feel how quickly my heart was beating, blood roaring in my ears. When I shuddered, needing air, he had me bend over in front of him again. He fucked me harder, faster, his hands roving smoothly over my upper body. Pain fought to overwhelm pleasure as my nipples pinched hard between his strong fingers. He pinched softly, repeatedly until the pleasurable throbbing spread through my chest and into my lower body.

       “Please, Master, may I come?” The words escaped as pleasure immediately rose to the breaking point.

        His hands covered my breasts, holding my back against his solid chest. So strong, his shoulders wide, arms long, I loved the way he felt. He pushed deep inside my body and triggered the light internal spasms.

        “Yes,” he groaned roughly, feeling me clench down harder around his shaft. Then more calmly, “Don't I always let you come?”

        “Thank you, Master!” The involuntary spasms started deep inside. They rolled forward, my body clenching down hard, then harder. I writhed back into him, finding the pressure I needed. The head of his cock slid over my g-spot. He rolled my nipples between his fingers, pinching in time to the way he fucked me. My clit rubbed across his shaft, the bursts of pleasure taking me higher. I was aware of how he was touching me, the couch and how it felt, but everything else faded. He thrust more slowly as aftershocks and sensitivity made me shudder.

        “Come into the bedroom-” I lost the rest of what he said, feeling him have me stand. He caught me against his chest, my hips writhing forward from the sudden emptiness.

        The rest was a blur. I waited as he laid back on the bed, immediately straddling his waist when he looked at me. He made me want him so much. His hands were rough as he helped me re-position. Was he close? Was he not? I couldn't tell, though he groaned quietly when my hips slammed against his. He wrapped his fingers around my wrists, keeping my hands behind my back. I felt him bite the side of my neck, his teeth closing without letting go. If I snarled... whether I had heard him snarl, I didn't know. Pain and desire rose, burning underneath my skin by the time he let go. My shoulders came together as I fucked him without holding back. Feeling me clench down made him groan, then fuck me hard enough that orgasm swelled and rose.

        “Master-”

        “Come,” he said, nipping the other side of my neck, “as many times as you can before I do.”

        My scream was quiet, muffled against his shoulder. Such dominance in his tone... The white darkness took me under, lost to the pleasure that left me breathless. I ground my hips down, the last after-shock shivering down my spine.

        “I want you underneath me.”

       The rush of excitement caught me off-guard, submissive in a new way. I wrapped myself around him, molding to his body as he changed our position. He gripped my inner thighs, holding me ready and open for him. I didn't look away from his eyes as he roughly thrust his hips forward. An instantaneous rush of pleasure seared through every part of me. My head twisted back and forth on one of the pillows. The way he fucked me was almost painful. Almost. Warning flutters of pain made me moan, masochistically trying to take him deeper into my body. When he leaned down to kiss me, I melted back onto the bed and felt the edge of almost-pain fade entirely. I whimpered at how fully he took control. 

        His fingers curled over my neck before I stopped being able to breathe. I looked into his eyes seconds before pressure made mine close. The warmth I saw helped take me under, part of me carefully monitoring the white static that rose in my head. My body moved on its own, straining for pleasure and wanting him to feel more. I felt my lungs fill with air before I came and went numb for several long moments.

        How I got to my knees was a mystery. My vision was blurred, but I could see him lay back. I knelt between his knees, wetting my lips as I took his cock into my mouth. Feeling how hard he was made me moan, his pulse throbbing against my tongue. I wanted to make him come... A spine-bending, mind-numbing, completely satisfying orgasm that I'd make last long as I could. He fucked my mouth to feel me gag, thrusting deeper as I choked around him. Soon as I got air, I took him deeper and embraced my masochist's determination. 

        When he came, I swallowed him down and moaned. The vibration skittered through the head of his cock, light pressure squeezing around his shaft. I gathered the rest on my tongue, loving how sweet he tasted. Sucking gently, I held him in my mouth until he relaxed. My cheek was resting on his thigh, I knelt low between his legs and ghosted my tongue over his cock. He caught my attention, holding one of my cigarettes between his long fingers. I smiled, knowing he would be hard again by the time we were done smoking. A deep shiver ran through the core of my body. My Master, I heard my submissive laugh. The awed, sub-happy laughter in my mind made adrenaline-like energy burn again...

        “Thank you, Master,” I curled up next to him. He glanced over at me and I saw his reply. It made me smile, subspace beckoning.

Unedited Scene from Subfrenzy

: Where the fuck did this come from? My masochist running rampant, maybe? Ugh. Bad, I think, unless I can make the writing have it seem not so bad? ... I want pain. Do I want this? Do I not want this? Is my masochist starving for the intensity of pain, the rush of momentarily uncontrolled dominance? Only from him... and it's not happened. Not like this. Probably for good reason... Ugh!

SCENE:

        I was lost to the way he kissed me. Leaning against him, my legs tangled between his, I went still when he grabbed my chin. My eyes met his for the briefest of seconds. I saw his hand rise and immediately closed them, bracing for the pain that would follow. Submission kept the shock contained. It more than stung when the flat of his hand fell over my cheek. The second made my head fly to the side. I exhaled sharply, barely holding the growl of anger back. His hands grasped my hair so he could kiss me hard. But before my nerves settled back into submission, he tested the limits and smacked me again. I heard it, echoing and loud in my head, before pain throbbed high in my cheekbone. My face was flushed red, tingling and burning where his fingers hit hardest. When my knees buckled, he jerked me back into his body. A fourth, white light exploding behind my eyes, brought long strands of my hair forward to cover the side of my face. Definitely off-balance, I didn't hold back the almost-silent snarl of surprise.

       "What?" He jerked my head back, having me stand straight. "Did you just-"

      “No, Master!” I winced, immediately sorry for saying 'no' to him, while still trying to piece together what had happened. 

       'No' should have been, 'Yes?' I couldn't remember what had happened when I lost those few seconds. 

       “I'm sorry, please-”

       He laughed shortly, the sound dark with the promise of punishment. The fight-or-flight reaction eased and cleared the haze that settled over my mind. I didn't flinch when he quickly raised his hand. My eyes widened when I saw the back of his hand. I felt my lips part, my mouth slightly opening from shock. All of my reactions were slowed. I saw his amber colored eyes darken, then the blur before pain would burn from contact... but he didn't backhand me. Or hit me at all. My eyes hadn't closed, shock still holding me steady in spite of what he'd threatened.

        “Good,” he said, still staring at me. “There's no reason for me to punish you, then.”

        “Thank you, Master?” I replied, my lips feeling numb.

        He kissed both sides of my face. “I would never do that to you. You know that.”

        Apparently my body did. I replied with submissive warmth in my voice, “Thank you, Master.”

        Shock faded and left me with the rush edge-play usually brought. Fear, check. Surprise, check. Being lost to the 'unknown,' check.

        “- dangerous,” I heard the last part of what he said. “You don't really want that, do you?”

        I shook my head. “Not that, Master, but, um--”

        'No,' my submissive said over and over in my head, dismissing the images that rose. Of blood congealing, dripping slowly down my back. Knives and blood, whips that would slice through layers of my skin, canes that could draw welts. Eight tales of knotted pleasure. 'No, no, no. Bad. Unhealthy.' But I was nearly panting from desire, close to asking for all the things I'd seen so vividly in my imagination. I thought of screams that escaped when it felt like I had no breath left in my lungs. Being gagged so no one would hear. Of being brought past the limits I had for pain, brought to the silence and deep levels of subspace that came after sincerely pleading to have it stop, or for more... All the while fighting to keep my safe-word back, endurance stretching until it snapped.

        I hadn't answered fast enough. And he saw the partially guilty glint in my eyes, the fear that meant I didn't have an answer... and I didn't want to lie. My arms came forward, slamming against the wall as he swung me around. I bit my lip to keep from laughing when his arm closed over my neck. My head fell back on his shoulder. His arm tightened, cutting off air-flow. He let me breathe when I squirmed against him, my lungs constricting desperately. Air! Yes! It tasted so- Then his hand closed over the base of my throat. He applied pressure, easing slightly to let me breathe shallowly. I felt light-headed, then dizzy. He let me gasp deep lungfuls of oxygen before bringing me close to unconsciousness again.

        “Please-” I choked, nearly falling to my knees.

        He had me turn so that I faced him. I melted, barely finding the strength to raise my arms to his shoulders. We stayed that way until my body stopped shaking. He massaged warmth back into my hands and arms.

        “Mmm... Master,” I said, meaning to say' Thank you,” as I breathed him in.

        “Can you stand?”

        “Yes, Master.”

        I laughed, mentally drifting into the position as he had me brace my arms against the wall again. The roughness kept me in partial-subspace, not letting it take over because I needed to stay standing. Already relaxing into the position, I knew he wouldn't have let my head hit the plaster. I brought my hands together so they touched, holding them flat against the off-white wall. He pulled my hips back so that I bent over. I braced with my hands and the inside of my arms.

        “This is punishment from before,” he warned me briefly.

        He stood next to me, the flat of his hand falling rapidly over the side of my ass. The crawling, stinging pain made me wet. I moaned when he made me shake, the smacks hurting harder than I remembered. Short, hard smacks for the left side. They fell randomly, my body loving the ones that made my teeth grit. There was no way to tell how long it continued. Until my skin burned red from above my knees to below my neck.

        “I'm sorry, Master!” I yelped as the last smack fell.

        My head hung between my arms. I had brought my shoulders together, bracing against the wall. He kissed the side of my neck, wrapping my hair around his hand to pull my head back. “This pain you take for me.”

        I moaned and writhed my hips back against his. “Please, yes. Thank you, Master.”

        Sub-space pulled me under when I heard the sounds of his belt being undone. Fuck, yes. My nerves crawled with restlessness and impatience. “Wait,” I heard him say, dread pooling in my stomach. “Come over here. Bend over the back of this couch.”

        He stood in front of the single sofa. I quickly got to my knees, abandoning pride as I crawled over to him. “Thank you, Master.” Stopping when I was in front of him, I kissed his knee, then his inner thigh. He was pleased, his hand tangling in my hair for a moment. My pain threshold expanded, wondering if he had me move because it enabled me to relax into the darkness in my head. I kept my eyes lowered, standing so I could do what he said. Hands palms on the seat, spread shoulder width apart, I waited for the bright flashes of pain.

        The belt struck his couch a few times. It flew through the air, it's end striking loud enough to make fear rise. He laughed when I jumped, hearing the crack of leather hitting leather. But arousal burned, my body completely relaxing for whatever level of pain he wanted me to take first. I strained to stay still as the first hit fell, striking diagonally over the back of my left thigh. It hurt more than I expected, yet not enough for me to break position. The second was brought straight down, swung around to hit both sides of my ass, then again. Trails of stinging pain coursed upward, downward, deep down to the core of my body. I turned my hands over, pressing my palms against the cushions to stop myself from moving. He made me gasp and moan, holding my breath through the quick, harsh flicks of the belt. Pain blossomed, gathering together as it steadily coursed over my skin. I fought it for as long as I could, shivering and shuddering as I struggled to absorb it.

        “Master, please!”

        “You want me to stop already?”

        Determination took me back under. “I'm sorry, Master. Please, no.”

        “If you want me to stop, you know what to say.”

        'Red,' yes. But please, not yet... I counted until the numbers jumbled, hits falling that I forgot to calculate in my haste to keep track of more. My hands were pulling backward on the couch. I felt my shoulders pulling together, my body wanting to protect itself against the pain that rose dangerously high. The belt snapped over my inner thigh. My back arched, hips twisting as I forced myself back into position. I felt him move back a few steps. The end whistled forward. I cried out as it struck both sides of my ass. Defensive walls in my mind fell as I lost small submissive battles. Not moving my hands, for one. Or closing in around myself, trying to make myself a smaller target. Failed. When I got to one elbow, forced to hesitate though I wanted to get back into position... He sighed, roughly pulling my arm down.

        “I'm sorry! Please, Master-”

        “What are you asking for?”

        I went silent, remembering what he said about safe-wording. The hits fell harder, as though insisting I say it. When I lowered my head, pressing my lips against the side of my arm, he pulled my head back.

        “Well?”

        Pride won, repaving the cracks in my pain threshold. I shook my head, signifying that I had nothing to say. His eyes narrowed. That wasn't enough for him. “Master...” my voice wavered, “please may I have- um-” I couldn't ask for more. Something shivered through me, my confidence faltering because of the dangerous way his eyes darkened.

        “Yes?”

        I shook my head again, helplessly. There was a barrier that kept me from asking him to stop, yet I couldn't bring myself to ask for it to continue, either. Not when I wasn't sure if I could take it. I wanted it to, even felt I could...

        “It ends when I want it to end,” he decided for me.

        … but when I had a choice, I couldn't take as much. “Thank you, Master!” I absorbed the urge to writhe backwards, forwards, anything so long as the stinging was eased from the back of my legs. My eyes closed as I breathed carefully. Pain was increasingly registered as intense pleasure. All I had to do was stay still and the pleasure would burn higher and take me under. 

        I let it creep through my body, the bright flashes exploding behind my eyelids giving me something to focus on. Subspace, I felt it and threw myself into the darkness. Warm, comforting, the place where sanity was restored. Shields grew stronger because they weren't being used. Walls were repaired, shutting out the worst of the pain. I could feel myself laying still, my body tensing and relaxing, tensing again before I made myself relax. Submissive instinct kept me from having to pay much attention to my position. I'd stay because he wanted me to, no other levels of determination needing to be accessed.

        “Ten more. Count them.”

        I did, nearly screaming the last four. My nails dug into the couch as I fought waves of dizziness from the last one. I whimpered when my body moved on its own. He looked surprised to see me suddenly kneeling in front of him. My body ached from holding position, but I liked the way it felt. I let my lips follow the hard line of his cock through the soft fabric of his pants. Blinded by submission, all I wanted was to thank him and give him pleasure. 'So do both,' I listened to my submissive. 'And make it good,' my masochist fueled me with endurance.

Pictures for Oct.

 I love Penny Pax. ^_^ 

    

Liz Vicious, too.

Dexter quote

Season 5- Episode 2

”It starts with blood. Trickling down the back of my eyelids. The trickle becomes a stream and then a flood. It fills me up…all my empty spaces. But then, the blood isn’t red anymore. It’s black. And pressing. It feels like my head is gonna explode. The only way to relieve the pressure is to open the floodgates and let it spill out.” – Dexter

I like writing and listening to Dexter at the same time. His voice is very soothing. The lack of emotion helps me find more stable mental territory, observing the frenzy that howls around the barriers of patience. My desire doesn't spawn from seeing the slow slide of blood behind my eyes. In historical shows, I might jump inside from seeing a whip draw blood, or really anything that could be used for/done with s/m purposes in mind. That's what starts the slow descent. Then fantasies hit and patience strains again. But the jolt I feel inside gives me a way to judge how solid my control remain.

 Like Dexter experiences, when I lose grip on control... it is like a flood. A flood of intense, clawing need that tears through my insides, leaving my nerves ragged as it fades. One image in my head is followed by more, a torrent of them all with the same theme. I usually draw the desire back before it starts. When I'm alone, though, my masochist lets the images continue. On and on they go until my breathing is ragged, the need for pain making me feel like I'm charged with electricity. Masochistic, submissive energy that deeply craves dominance that offers control, help that I can accept. That I can trust and surrender to. 

Scenes are forming... at least two. Off to hunt for a few images until they make their way to paper. 

Pic updates

Haha... o.O... The dangers of breathplay

      We were in his office. Maybe it's because I had been holding my breath without realizing it, before it started? He tipped my head back, his hand closing over my neck. There was pressure and then...

      End result? I opened my eyes, lying on the floor.
      What crazy sensations! There's usually warning! A fuzzy feeling that rises in the back of my head, that white-hot flash that explodes behind my eyes. It hit all at once. I remember stumbling backwards, pushing away from him, thinking, 'Fuck! The cat! Where--?' But control snapped and I fell to my knees, then onto my side. There was nausea when I forced my eyes open. I was conscious enough to feel my shoulder hitting the carpet. Panic, disorientation- knowing I had to be careful of my glasses. Ingrained behavior, huh?

      Wow... Fainting. Swooning. Now I know what it feels like. I'll have to be careful and help my Master prevent that next time. If its possible. I'm not sure anymore. It used to be. He's held me in that position before without me passing out almost... instantaneously.      

      I spoke before my lungs fully filled. "What happened--?"
      I did black out, but I don't think it was for more than a few seconds. The throbbing ache in my knees still felt fresh. He hadn't had a chance to move. I started laughing, realizing how ridiculous I looked.
      His stern, serious voice... "Why did you--?!"
      But then he paused, looking at me as I stared at him. His reflexes are quick. If I hadn't pushed myself so far away from him...
     "If that happens again, do not ever push backwards against me like that." And then the cold, hardness in his eyes burned with amusement. His lips twitched as he crossed his arms. "I'll catch you, so long as you don't launch yourself across the room."
     "Yes, Master," I whispered, staring down at the floor.
     "Are you okay?"
     "I am, Master. Thank you."
     I watched as he went to sit in his computer chair. Breath-play can be dangerous, yes. What happened scared me, but not enough to have me ask if we shouldn't do that anymore. That would be sad. And up to him.
      Kneeling, I focused through the fuzziness in my head. I crawled over to his chair, wanting to thank him and apologize at the same time. He stared at me for several long moments before he undid his pants. I really love that sound.
      'Thank you, Master,' I took his cock deep into my mouth and relaxed. Push endurance level, breathe through minor discomfort, and be a good slave? I lost myself in the way he tasted, how the hard line of his shaft felt moving back and forth along my lips. I took him as far down my throat as I could wanting to thank him again.
      "Tired, baby?" he asked, breaking me out of the hazy mind-frame.
      ... tired? I shook my head, looking up at him. Too slow, apparently. I quickened the pace, a short flash of worry when he had me stop. "I'm sorry, Master, I-"
      "Don't be. Lay down."
      He had me lay flat on the floor. I wrapped my arms around him when he settled over me. He brushed my hair out of the way, kissing my neck, nudging my legs apart. Soft submission took over as I laid underneath him.
      'Thank you, Master!' I moaned when his cock slowly thrust inside of me.
      Sunlight streamed in through the windows. The carpet was warm where I was laying, burning my hips and lower back, my shoulders when I rocked my hips back. I arched my back to try and take him deeper. Harder. I loved having him pin me down, kissing me while he continued to move his body against mine. Bringing my knees in closer to his waist, I stretched my arms above my head.... the slow, sweet burn, my skin scraping red and raw as I reached the edge.

About Breathplay-- (sans tangent)

      We barely stopped it from happening the second time. It happened when I tilted my head back, standing in front of him, his hand covering my neck. The rush was staggering. Instead of pushing back into the coffee table, the glass shelves... I moved into him and felt his arm already securely around my waist. He helped me turn around so I could wrap my arms around his neck and focus on not passing out. Success, mostly! Thrilling, exhilarating laughter again. He looked down at me, seeming as though he was torn between laughter and wanting to strangle me.
      "Are you mad, Master?" I asked, studying his expression.
      Stern again, though I love that his tone doesn't always match his eyes. So much warmth when punishment isn't warranted...
     "No, baby. I'm not 'mad.'' Whatever else he said was lost as he helped me sit down onto the couch.
    
It scares me a little, how okay I am with that fact that I could pass out and be out... But not really. He is my Master.

      I almost reached 'that' layer of subspace with him. Where I'm completely disoriented, only capable of short sentences... It's happened twice with him. Once in the beginning, I really didn't have any chance of stopping it. I really liked him as a person, and then to have him deliver such incredible pain, done well and the way I'd hoped... I still think it's because he was trying to make me safe-word.
      Then it happened through punishment, the last time I was there. The dark cloud rose and descended over my mind. I surfaced, blinking up at him, shocked that it had happened so completely. Moving takes so much energy, my body feels suffused with heat, burning and tingling. I hear tones, not words. His energy is everywhere, making me feel high and mist-minded. There's no anger, only quiet determination and submission, and the throbbing of could-be bruises and marks deepening under my skin.
 
      Such strange territory for me. When I knew I'd give my Dominant whatever I could, back when I was searching... I never expected to be this vulnerable. To want it, even. I'm not sure what it means.
      How do I take pain, really? Does he want anything else?
     Damnit. And now I'm out of cigarettes. Coffee, too.
     Next I get to write about knives. ^_^

Pictures- Round ?

Pictures

Fun pictures for today. A break from all the writing. =)

--> Fucking wow.