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ROUGH NIGHT
⚠️ BDSM
⚠️ Read at your own risk.
⚠️ Not suitable for young readers.
⚠️ Erotica short story.
I hear you pull in. 5:18; three minutes late. Traffic must have been heavy. I hear the car door slam - a bad sign. I inhale deeply and wobble to the front door. You have been having me wear ridiculously high heels lately...
You are upset. I can tell by the scowl you wear until our eyes meet. Then you seem to relax a bit - but not enough. "Rough day lover?" I ask, reaching for your case. My arm jerks as I take the weight from you.
"Yeah. Pretty rough." You wrench your tie loose and toss your coat on a chair. You sit on the couch, and beckon me with your finger. I put the case down and walk to you slowly, so you can watch me moving. You pat your lap as I approach, and I sit; my legs in between yours, my arms around your neck.
"Yes Master?" I look up at you, my heart fluttering, knowing that you have complete control over me. You do not speak, but you tilt my chin up with your fingers and kiss me. I feel my body relax, all cares leaving me. But I also feel your body harden with desire. And you've had a rough day...
Your hand leaves my chin and travels to my breast - caressing, teasing my hard nipple through the fabric of my shirt. I wiggle my ass on your lap, feeling you harden, and you groan into my mouth. Suddenly your caresses turn rough, as you squeeze my soft breast painfully. I gasp and instinctively break the kiss, and I twist, trying to escape your strong hand.
Suddenly the hand that had been supporting my head while you were kissing me grabs a fist full of my hair and jerks my head back. I cry out and look into your eyes. Yes. You have had a rough day. And now I am in for a rough night.
"Do you want to fight me?" I do not respond. "Go ahead. Give it all you've got baby. You know how it'll end." Knowing that this is what you want, I start to struggle against you. Your left hand grabs both my wrists and holds them together in front of me as your right clenches my hair. I kick and twist and turn, sobbing in frustration as you effortlessly keep me within your grasp. You keep a firm grip on me, and hold my body until all my strength has left me and I am unable to fight anymore. Tears stream down my face as I give a whimper of defeat.
"That was very good. But you're still mine." You crack a smile now. Mr. Psych major. I know that was just an exercise to remind me of who is in control. You let go of my hair and my head falls back as you take your tie off and wrap it around my limp wrists. Then you pull my wrists above my head and tie the silk around the leg of an end table. "There," you say as I am secured. Mustering my strength, I wiggle my ass against your throbbing cock. You know how struggling and being bound makes me hot. "Would my whore like something?" You run a hand down my leg and back up to the hem of my skirt. I nod. "What does she want?" I blush. Voicing my deviant needs is difficult for me. You know that. "Well I can't give it to you..." Your hand runs up and over my heaving breast. "...Unless you tell me." You tweak my nipple through the shirt.
"Please Master..." I whisper, my needful brown eyes begging for release.
"Please what, sweetheart... sweet, sweet, whore..." Your hand rests over my pelvis, covered by my skirt.
"Please make me cum... please... use me... please..." I say it so fast I wonder if I am speaking English.
"Mmm... If you cum tonight, it's going to have to hurt... Your pain is your Master's pleasure." You trace a finger over my full lips.
"Yes Master... take your frustrations out on my body... I'm yours... please..." I writhe on your lap as your left hand travels up my skirt and finds my hot, hungry cunt. You shove two fingers deep inside me. I jerk at the invasion, and moan as the pain subsides and my tight hole stretches around your invading fingers.
No delicacy. No tenderness. You thrust your fingers in and out of me as if you were raping me. I close my eyes and thrash my head from side to side until I hear you growl: "Look at me slut. I want to see your pain." I turn my face to yours and stare up at you. I cannot describe your expression, except to say that it frightens and excites me at once. "Maybe I should add another finger; your cunt is loosening up." We both know it isn't true; I am still painfully tight around your invading fingers.
"No Master please!" I shake my head. "You know it will tear me. Please don't..." You relent, unceremoniously withdrawing your fingers from me and holding them up to look at them. They are coated, dripping with my wetness, and the pads have started to prune.
"Look at that, you fucking whore, you get off on being molested." I blush and turn my head away. "I didn't tell you to look away from me, did I? Here, clean these off." I look up at you as I suck my juices off your fingers, trying to endure this degrading experience obediently. "That's actually a damn good idea." You roll me onto the floor, release my wrists for a moment and then retie them behind my back. You leave me on the floor while you undress. I cannot see you, but I can hear you. "Up on your knees." I struggle to raise myself from my position on the floor, but I am too slow and you pull me up by my hair. I gasp and look up at you. You are naked, your glorious cock standing rock hard against your stomach. I lick my lips with anticipation. "You cock-whore. You can't wait to have my dick in your mouth. Wait-" You reach down and tear my shirt open, exposing my soft breasts, pearlescent buttons scattering across the floor. "That's better. Now, open up." You grab my hair again and feed your large cock into my wet mouth. With my hands behind my back I am unable to give you a proper blow job, but you jerk my head up and down the length of your cock, listening to me gag and moaning as I suck with all my might. "Yeah... like that... Look at me, dammit!" I cringe, but look up anyway; I can only imagine how slutty I look with my mouth filled with cock and saliva rolling down my chin. "Mmm... that's my naughty girl. You're so fucking good at this." I gag again and feel my eyes water, mascara running down my cheeks. Soon I feel your strokes becoming shallower and see your eyes roll back into your head. You groan as hot spurts of cum fill my mouth. I swallow as fast as I can, but some escapes my mouth and rolls down my lips. I know I will be punished for it, but right now I am enjoying being the recipient of your cum...
When you finish cumming you sprawl back on the couch and look at me again. I meet your gaze, unsure of what I should do. You crook your finger at me again. I crawl on my knees. When I reach you, you use a finger to feed me the cum that is running down my chin and tits. "You know that's against the rules." I nod. You sigh. "Turn around." With little grace, I turn on my knees. "Fall forward, with your ass in the air. I'm not going to help you." I pause a moment. "Down whore!" Your angry voice causes me to obey: I cry out as my cheek scrapes against the floor, and I crawl forward a bit to get my ass as high in the air as possible.
You lean forward and push my skirt into a belt around my waist. I remain in this position for what seems like several minutes, our breathing the only sounds. I know you are looking at my ass and my wet cunt. I wonder if there are still marks on my bottom from the last time you beat me. Possibly. Finally you speak: "The crop." I groan. I hate the crop. I love the crop. It bites into my flesh and makes me squeal, but the pain is heavenly. You get up, and return moments later. I hear the crop swish through the air as you take a few practice swings. "Let's see... what's a good number... seven." Seven? You never strike me an odd number of times, only even.
To be continued...
© Era°
*If you find errors just let me know. You are free to comment in my story.
Thank you for reading.
⚠️ Read at your own risk.
⚠️ Not suitable for young readers.
⚠️ Erotica short story.
I hear you pull in. 5:18; three minutes late. Traffic must have been heavy. I hear the car door slam - a bad sign. I inhale deeply and wobble to the front door. You have been having me wear ridiculously high heels lately...
You are upset. I can tell by the scowl you wear until our eyes meet. Then you seem to relax a bit - but not enough. "Rough day lover?" I ask, reaching for your case. My arm jerks as I take the weight from you.
"Yeah. Pretty rough." You wrench your tie loose and toss your coat on a chair. You sit on the couch, and beckon me with your finger. I put the case down and walk to you slowly, so you can watch me moving. You pat your lap as I approach, and I sit; my legs in between yours, my arms around your neck.
"Yes Master?" I look up at you, my heart fluttering, knowing that you have complete control over me. You do not speak, but you tilt my chin up with your fingers and kiss me. I feel my body relax, all cares leaving me. But I also feel your body harden with desire. And you've had a rough day...
Your hand leaves my chin and travels to my breast - caressing, teasing my hard nipple through the fabric of my shirt. I wiggle my ass on your lap, feeling you harden, and you groan into my mouth. Suddenly your caresses turn rough, as you squeeze my soft breast painfully. I gasp and instinctively break the kiss, and I twist, trying to escape your strong hand.
Suddenly the hand that had been supporting my head while you were kissing me grabs a fist full of my hair and jerks my head back. I cry out and look into your eyes. Yes. You have had a rough day. And now I am in for a rough night.
"Do you want to fight me?" I do not respond. "Go ahead. Give it all you've got baby. You know how it'll end." Knowing that this is what you want, I start to struggle against you. Your left hand grabs both my wrists and holds them together in front of me as your right clenches my hair. I kick and twist and turn, sobbing in frustration as you effortlessly keep me within your grasp. You keep a firm grip on me, and hold my body until all my strength has left me and I am unable to fight anymore. Tears stream down my face as I give a whimper of defeat.
"That was very good. But you're still mine." You crack a smile now. Mr. Psych major. I know that was just an exercise to remind me of who is in control. You let go of my hair and my head falls back as you take your tie off and wrap it around my limp wrists. Then you pull my wrists above my head and tie the silk around the leg of an end table. "There," you say as I am secured. Mustering my strength, I wiggle my ass against your throbbing cock. You know how struggling and being bound makes me hot. "Would my whore like something?" You run a hand down my leg and back up to the hem of my skirt. I nod. "What does she want?" I blush. Voicing my deviant needs is difficult for me. You know that. "Well I can't give it to you..." Your hand runs up and over my heaving breast. "...Unless you tell me." You tweak my nipple through the shirt.
"Please Master..." I whisper, my needful brown eyes begging for release.
"Please what, sweetheart... sweet, sweet, whore..." Your hand rests over my pelvis, covered by my skirt.
"Please make me cum... please... use me... please..." I say it so fast I wonder if I am speaking English.
"Mmm... If you cum tonight, it's going to have to hurt... Your pain is your Master's pleasure." You trace a finger over my full lips.
"Yes Master... take your frustrations out on my body... I'm yours... please..." I writhe on your lap as your left hand travels up my skirt and finds my hot, hungry cunt. You shove two fingers deep inside me. I jerk at the invasion, and moan as the pain subsides and my tight hole stretches around your invading fingers.
No delicacy. No tenderness. You thrust your fingers in and out of me as if you were raping me. I close my eyes and thrash my head from side to side until I hear you growl: "Look at me slut. I want to see your pain." I turn my face to yours and stare up at you. I cannot describe your expression, except to say that it frightens and excites me at once. "Maybe I should add another finger; your cunt is loosening up." We both know it isn't true; I am still painfully tight around your invading fingers.
"No Master please!" I shake my head. "You know it will tear me. Please don't..." You relent, unceremoniously withdrawing your fingers from me and holding them up to look at them. They are coated, dripping with my wetness, and the pads have started to prune.
"Look at that, you fucking whore, you get off on being molested." I blush and turn my head away. "I didn't tell you to look away from me, did I? Here, clean these off." I look up at you as I suck my juices off your fingers, trying to endure this degrading experience obediently. "That's actually a damn good idea." You roll me onto the floor, release my wrists for a moment and then retie them behind my back. You leave me on the floor while you undress. I cannot see you, but I can hear you. "Up on your knees." I struggle to raise myself from my position on the floor, but I am too slow and you pull me up by my hair. I gasp and look up at you. You are naked, your glorious cock standing rock hard against your stomach. I lick my lips with anticipation. "You cock-whore. You can't wait to have my dick in your mouth. Wait-" You reach down and tear my shirt open, exposing my soft breasts, pearlescent buttons scattering across the floor. "That's better. Now, open up." You grab my hair again and feed your large cock into my wet mouth. With my hands behind my back I am unable to give you a proper blow job, but you jerk my head up and down the length of your cock, listening to me gag and moaning as I suck with all my might. "Yeah... like that... Look at me, dammit!" I cringe, but look up anyway; I can only imagine how slutty I look with my mouth filled with cock and saliva rolling down my chin. "Mmm... that's my naughty girl. You're so fucking good at this." I gag again and feel my eyes water, mascara running down my cheeks. Soon I feel your strokes becoming shallower and see your eyes roll back into your head. You groan as hot spurts of cum fill my mouth. I swallow as fast as I can, but some escapes my mouth and rolls down my lips. I know I will be punished for it, but right now I am enjoying being the recipient of your cum...
When you finish cumming you sprawl back on the couch and look at me again. I meet your gaze, unsure of what I should do. You crook your finger at me again. I crawl on my knees. When I reach you, you use a finger to feed me the cum that is running down my chin and tits. "You know that's against the rules." I nod. You sigh. "Turn around." With little grace, I turn on my knees. "Fall forward, with your ass in the air. I'm not going to help you." I pause a moment. "Down whore!" Your angry voice causes me to obey: I cry out as my cheek scrapes against the floor, and I crawl forward a bit to get my ass as high in the air as possible.
You lean forward and push my skirt into a belt around my waist. I remain in this position for what seems like several minutes, our breathing the only sounds. I know you are looking at my ass and my wet cunt. I wonder if there are still marks on my bottom from the last time you beat me. Possibly. Finally you speak: "The crop." I groan. I hate the crop. I love the crop. It bites into my flesh and makes me squeal, but the pain is heavenly. You get up, and return moments later. I hear the crop swish through the air as you take a few practice swings. "Let's see... what's a good number... seven." Seven? You never strike me an odd number of times, only even.
To be continued...
© Era°
*If you find errors just let me know. You are free to comment in my story.
Thank you for reading.
