Charles stood in front of me. He picked up his Big Box of Dildos and put it on a small table he had brought over; the tabletop rose to almost exactly my eye-level, where I knelt on the floor, in garter-belt and stockings, with my hands cuffed behind me and the cuffs attached to the chain from the ceiling. There was just enough tension in the chain--and thus also in my arms--to force me to bend forward slightly.
Then Charles began to take dildos out of the box, and to line them up on the table.
"I think tonight we'll have you take just five, slut," he said with a benevolent tone in his voice. "Next time we can raise the number to ten, if you do well tonight."
I looked up into his eyes, and I think it was then that it happened: I saw something I had been missing about cocksucking, perhaps because in my Master/slave dialectic with Charles I love to play with the "avert your eyes"/"look upon your Master" (that is, your husband's phallus) dynamic, and I have a thing about not being allowed to look Charles in the eye when he's using me erotically--it just feels more submissively right that way, to me. Plus, in my topping from the bottom way, there's always that dirty little secret of "Actually, this scene is all about me, and I don't want to look at you right now--I just want to take my pleasure from you taking yours, and we'll call it a deal." It's the kind of thing for which an ass-wife gets beaten, on occasion, but that, too, is part of the point.
Paradoxical, but in my opinion BDSM depends on paradox; otherwise we'd all just get disgusted with ourselves and turn in our leathers for good.
At any rate, what I saw in Charles' eyes was what seemed to me for an instant his naked will to power. When he proceeded to take the first of the dildos--a reasonably small purple thing, with a head but no veins, I could feel, emanating from his soul, the absolute need to choke me with it. Startled by the rather unusual display of dominance on my husband's face (the look wasn't anger, exactly, but it was closer akin to anger than to any other emotion I can think of), I opened my mouth unconsciously. I suspect that something deep in my own soul was responding to that trait that these days seems to go by the (to my mind unfortunate) terminology of the alpha-male.
Charles put one hand on the back of my head--not in my hair, just around the base of my skull, while with the other he thrust the purple dildo forcefully into my mouth and began, as he had promised, to fuck my face with it, while I desperately fought to keep breathing, open my throat, and keep from retching, all at the same time.
It was the same struggle that makes the basic level of the activity unappealing for me, but now, looking into his eyes as his attention was focused on the dildo going in and out of my mouth, I was suddenly transformed by his sheer aggression: he wanted (at least in the play of the moment) to make me pay for writing that I didn't like to give him head.
And I was paying: my eyes were watering, and my jaw ached, and I was nearly fainting with lack of breath by the time he thrust the second dildo, a much bigger, more lifelike fleshy thing, to the back of my throat and held it there.
My eyes left his face at last, and looked down at his cock. It was at full attention, and again I hungered for it as I never had. The third dildo was long, and thin, and black. The fourth was blue and very thick. The fifth, though. . .
I gasped when I finally got a good look at it.
"That's right," said Charles. "This one's not circumcised."
"But. . ."
He fetched my paddle and gave me a hard spank. "Silence, cocksucker," he said.
"That's right. This is a cock that you can't imagine belongs to me, and I am going to fuck your face with it. But because you will be giving head to a stranger's cock, I will be spanking you at the same time."
Like Mr. Ramsay and Mr. Wilkes in Emily, Bedded (forthcoming in three weeks), I thought.
He took a stand behind me and to the left again, and brought the strange dildo to my lips. He spanked me, and I opened my mouth.
I had never sucked an uncircumcised cock before (and, of course, I wasn't actually sucking one now--but that's what it felt like!). Charles made the putative owner of the cock very insistent, though, thrusting hard and fast, as the spanks came at a much slower, steadier pace, until I was crying out around the dildo and I really did feel my mouth somehow become submissively pliant.
Then, at last, it was Charles' wonderful cock that I was sucking, with the paddle laid aside so he could put both hands in my hair and move my mouth on his sex to his heart's content, until he finished, making me stick my tongue out so that he could watch himself spurt over it.
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