Kneeling before Him...
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Tuesday, January 18, 2005
'Woman!' He said in that tone of voice that leaves me little room to argue. It was not just a word. It was an order, get here right now or prepare to accept the consequences. Strangely enough, I have never bothered to find out what the consequences even might be. I have no desire to incur His wrath when He is already in a mood.
I carefully and calmly put down what I was doing and raced to find Him. The rush of heat and the pounding of my heartbeat in my clitoris made me realise that even my body knows what that tone in His voice means and I was blushing at my Pavlovian response before I even made it to the bedroom. For some reason, the walk down the hallway had seemed extra long. I wondered if it was something I had done or if it was some need He just wanted catered to. Either way I knew I was about to find out fast. His voice had made it clear that He was not about to muck around.
'Undress.' He ordered, words seeming to be in short supply. 'And kneel.'
Again I didn't hesitate. I took off my top and skirt, bra and panties while watching Him search through drawers. I knew what He was looking for, but I said nothing. I had a feeling it was not my place to tell Him where to find it, especially since I was the one that kind of hid it there. I kind of wanted Him to think it was misplaced, not actually hidden. Not that I really hid it. I just sort of put it out of the way hoping that it would be forgotten. The clip. His clip. That beautifully wicked little thing that I have come to adoringly hate. It can bruise. It can hurt, just a little, just enough to make me think I don't want it anymore. Then He has it in His hand and I want it, beg for it, spread my legs willingly to have it put on me and know that by the time He takes it off me I will want to hide it again.
I think He knows that I put it away but never hide it enough for Him not to be able to find it. He knows that I have this love hate affair with it and He likes it all the more because it has this affect on me. It still holds power over me. If I loved it and wanted it all the time it's power would not be as strong. This clip makes me weak and Mac knows it and uses it to His full advantage.
He stood before me lightly tossing the clip in the air and catching it. I kept my head down, kneeling in submissive posture, knowing exactly what He was doing and refusing to be anything but demure. It didn't matter. He knew the affect He was having, at least He would know as soon as He put His hand between my legs. I could smell my sex. My body was betraying me again.
He put His hand under my chin and tilted my head up. His smile was wicked, smug, the smile of a man that knew exactly what He wanted and exactly how to get it. He held the clip out for me to see and my breath caught in my throat. I had to swallow it. Yes, His clip is that powerful. He said nothing, there was no need. He just lowered Himself down in front of me and I spread my legs wider, hating the fact that I was anticipating it, desiring it.
Mac's fingers were cool as He touched me and I sucked my breath in through my teeth. He looked at me and smiled again, wickedly, almost chuckling at me because He had not even put the clip on yet and already I was on edge. I shuddered as I felt it slip into place. Mac's smile widened. I could hardly feel it. It always starts out that way, just a slight pressure that grows and grows into an unbelievable ache. He knows I can hardly feel it on my body and the shudder came from the clip putting pressure on my mind. He was fucking me mentally and we both knew it.
'You are wet.' He said. It was not a question and He did not require a reply. 'Good girl.' He whispered in His most seductive tone and patted my thigh.
He stood then and I kept my head bowed, my face burning with embarrassment and pride. Good girl. I heard His belt coming undone and I shuddered again. The zip on His trousers, the shuffle of His hands inside, the smell of His cock all assaulted me one after the other. I wanted to look at it. I wanted to kiss it, lick it, suck it into my mouth and pump it empty of come. I wanted to take possession of it, hungrily, greedily, but now was not the time. He had told me to kneel, I was in full submissive mode, I waited to be told what He wanted me to do.
He tilted my chin again forcing me to look up at Him. His other hand arrogantly stroked His hard proud cock. There is something infinitely sexy about a man that shows such confidence. If He has ever been laughed at, it does not show. He has no fear of rejection, no shame in His maleness, no reason to suspect that the girl in front of Him will ever treat Him with anything but adoration and respect. His stance demands it. His arrogance says it is His due and I believe it because He has proven it so.
'Is this what you asked for, Sarah? Is this what you wanted?' He gently asked.
I watched His cock, licked my lips, opened my mouth to say something and stopped. Had I asked for it? I tried to think back on the conversations we had that day, the things we had teased and laughed over. I did not think I had asked. I could not remember asking. Panic started to rise inside me. How could I forget? Had I said it in passing without even realising it? I looked past His cock to the intense blue eyes looking down at me. I opened my mouth again but nothing came out.
Mac smiled at my confusion. 'I read the blog,' He said.
It dawned on me then what I had asked for. 'Oh.' I said quietly.
'Well Sarah, is this what you wanted?'
'Yes.' I whispered.
'Is it all you want, Sarah?'
'No.' I was hardly making a sound.
'What else do you want, Sarah? Tell me.'
'Please don't.' I pleaded. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want Him to make me say it.
'Ok,' He said, 'I will say it for you. You want my semen on your face while your cheeks are still stinging from my hand. Is that it, Sarah?'
Each time He said my name it was like a caress. I felt Him playing with me. I felt Him touching me in all my secret places. He was breaking down my defences and I don't have many against Him. It is never hard for Him to do.
'Yes Sir.' I whispered. 'That's all.'
'Tell me why, Sarah. I want to know why.' He pressed His cock against my cheek so that His precum smudged there. I licked my lips again, waiting.
'I want to feel owned,' I paused as He pressed His cock against my other cheek, 'by You.'
'Mmmm,' He murmured, pressing His cock against my slightly parted lips, 'you are mine. You belong to me. You always will, Sarah. Always. All ways.'
I held His eyes with my own and snuck my tongue out to softly lick at the precum that has been smeared across the head of His cock. He gasped and His eyes flickered just the tiniest little bit, the smallest give-away that I was having an affect on Him. I saw it, the pride, the love, the adoration He has for me, that I can give myself so totally, so openly to Him, that I can kneel before Him so defenceless and fearlessly. It is something special that I give to Him, but many submissive women will tell you that it is even more special that He accepts something that confuses so many men. And He doesn't just accept it. He nurtures it and nourishes it. He encourages it because He believes that it is beautiful.
His hand came down against my cheek, not really hurting, but still shocking me even though I knew it was coming. My pussy ached with my lust. He drew His hand back across the other cheek and my eyes filled with tears. I looked up at Him again and I reached for His cock with my tongue. He slapped me again, harder this time and again I used my tongue to reach for His cock. I whimpered, my hands travelling up my thighs. I had to touch myself. I had to relieve my ache or I would die. I knew it. He slapped me again and told me not to. I whimpered again and my hands stopped. I would rather die than disobey.
He kept jerking His cock in front of me and each time I tried to touch Him with my tongue He slapped me again. My cheeks stung brightly and still I wanted Him.
'Please?' I begged.
'Please what?' He grunted.
'Please come for me? Please?'
He let Himself come. My tongue caressed the underside of His cock as He growled and grunted and forced His semen to land on my face. I smiled up at Him. I had no desire to hide the joy I felt at the way His body shuddered. His orgasm was for me. It was mine. All mine.
He knelt in front of me and His fingers quickly found His clip. He tugged it and made me gurgle. He tugged it again. His other hand wound itself around my throat and just the presence of it there made me feel faint.
'Come Sarah.' He hissed and there was no sign of begging in His voice. It was an order, a demand. 'Come.' He hissed again and His mouth closed over mine, His thumb over my windpipe, His fingers pressing incessantly at His clip. I came earth-shatteringly, my body convulsing, pressing myself forward into both of His hands, causing me to gasp in pain and at the pressure on my neck and press forward onto Him some more.
He removed the clip and pulled me into His arms.
I was His good girl again.
And if you make your way over to Amber's blog, you will see her say exactly what I feel when I am with Mac like this. It is not beaten from me, it is not forced, I give my submission to Him freely because He is the man I want to give it to. The things He wants become the things I want because He takes care of what I need.
Mac watched me struggle with His decision and He watched me put it aside and submit to His choice. He knew it was hard for me and knew that I needed reassurance. He owns me, He will protect me, I am His girl.
I am His girl.