Liberator Lusty Lit Erotic Fiction Contest awards the winner with a $250 gift card to Liberator.com. Vote for your favorite story by clicking the heart at the end of the post.
“Come in,” I say at the soft knock.
You enter, tray held still as I inspect you, sheer robe swirling around my naked hips and breasts.
“Very Pretty”, I say admiring you, nipples already erect against your sheer mesh apron, petticoats under the short, very short skirt, ending just above the tiny patch of pubic hair that I allow you to keep, hot, shaven, tender flesh clearly visible beneath, framed in garter and hose. I like your skirts very, very short, exposing you completely.
You have prepared well, primed for my touch, clearly self-aroused as expected before you come into my presence.
I walk behind to look at, then caress your ass. That pretty, pretty ass beneath the petticoats, ready for my touch…and my whip. Spreading your cheeks, I see you are already oiled front and back.
“Tray on my bed”, I command, perusing the carefully prepared and arranged breakfast. Sectioned grapefruit, toasted bagel, cream cheese and dark, rich steaming coffee.
“Where is the cream?” I ask.
You timidly respond, “We’re out, ma’am, I’m so sorry.”
“You mean you screwed up the shopping again. I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”
I bring out the Liberator Black Label Ramp, placing it on the very edge of the bed.
On your tiptoes you comply, skirt riding higher, framing your exposed ass and the tender oiled flesh beneath, moving your legs to their widest, as I require. The ramp is very high; you’re almost bent in two teetering on your widespread tiptoes as I strap your wrists into the restraints.
Walking to my armoire, I open it and consider what to use.
Taking out the penis gag, I move in front of you and make you watch me pleasure myself, your neck craned painfully up at the sharp angle the ramp creates, inches from my pussy. I start rubbing the stubby black cock around my clit, then insert it as I fuck myself in front of your face, my juices flowing, richly coating the cock as I reach a gentle, controlled orgasm.
I bring the dripping cock to your face. You open wide.
I push the cock into your mouth and buckle it tight, your tongue cradles the black silicon, taste buds full of the sweet taste of my pussy.
Now you are fully prepared for your punishment.
Removing a flogger from my armoire, I stand behind you and tease your asshole with the dildo handle, pressing it in, slowly penetrating your oiled rosebud, in and out, your hips moving at the pressure, the brief pleasure an appetizer for the pain to come. I pull it out slowly, then gently caress the hot flesh beneath with the flogger’s leather strands in anticipation.
“Are you ready?”
Not waiting for a response I move from caress to strike.
Whack!, you jump as the leather bites into your most tender place. Nice reaction.
Whack! Again you jump at the searing pain between your legs, pain you so richly deserve.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
Tears flow down your face, joining the drool from your gag as your most sensitive skin turns scarlet.
“Should I stop, slut?” I ask. Unable to speak, you shake your head. I am more than happy to oblige, moving from between your legs, to each ass cheek. I start down one exposed inner thigh, back up the other, then I carefully, repeatedly target your most tender place, covering every inch.
The “Whacks!” fill the room. My work almost done, from my armoire I consider the set of Frisky paddles, each one with a word inscribed for your pretty ass cheeks.
Whore, Slut, Bitch, all in reverse image on the paddles. I chose Slut and Bitch as most appropriate and return behind you, aiming for the most tender spot on your ass, just above where those pretty ass cheeks meet your thighs, slightly inward.
Whack! You jump, your left cheek turns bright red as the word “Slut” is branded on your skin.
Whack! Your right cheek is imprinted with “Bitch” as you jump again.
Perfect. I think you will not forget the cream again.
I free you from your restraints, leaving the soaking wet gag in your mouth and admire. Legs spread, scarlet flesh front and back beneath your skirt, framed by your garter and hose. Nice.
But what about the cream for my coffee?
Smiling, I return to my armoire, bringing out my Hitachi.
Moving you close to my coffee cup on the tray, I display the Magic Wand in front of your gagged face and slowly push the intensity button all the way to 10, the head of the vibrator moving wildly, your eyes getting wide.
“I guess you’ll have to supply the cream”, I say, as I hold you tightly and bring the wand to your most tender spot, where all the nerve endings reside, pressing you tight against the vibrator.
You writhe at the strong sensation, vibrations bringing on wave after wave of pleasure as I press in hard, not giving you any means of retreat.
But you know the rules, you cannot come until I give you permission, so you endure the torturous pleasure, waiting for the word that will bring your release. My word.
“Please…”, you whimper around the gag, trying to keep from going over that delicious cliff, “Please…”
I don’t respond, watching your body closely, edging you from peak to peak, pulling back, denying your orgasm, keeping you right on the edge for what seems like forever, at least for you.
I release you, “You may come.”
You squirt into my cup, white liquid streaming from your cock as I milk it dry, getting every last drop into the hot, dark brew, squeezing your balls tightly, roughly milking you to get it all out.
Stirring with a silver spoon, mixing the strands of cum until they fully dissolve, I bring the cup to my lips and drink deeply of the delicious, rich brew you have provided.
Perhaps we don’t need cream any more….