Authors: Ella Dominguez
From The Art of Domination
I move to the swing as he ordered and seat myself in it. I lean back into it and he tips it back so that my head is lower than my torso. He saddles my feet in the stirrups and fastens them in tightly. Then he spreads my legs beyond a comfortable position, fully exposing myself to him. He moves to my arms and straps them in above my head and apart. Dylan brings the swing up waist level for him and his hard-on is now in full force. He reaches down and picks up the cat
o’nine tails that he took down from the wall and a large dildo. He’s never used either of those on me before and I’m shaken to see them in his hands.
“Do you fully intend to go through with this no limits bullshit?” he asks me.
Now’s my chance to back out, but I know that’s what Dylan is expecting me to do. I want to show him that I can do this for him; if it’s what he really wants and needs. I can be just as good as Erika and I’ll prove that to him.
I can do this.
I can do this,
I repeat over and over, trying to convince myself that I really can.
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, but my shaky voice betrays my doubtfulness. I bite down on my bottom lip trying to control its quivering. Dylan’s eyes flick to my mouth and he frowns and blinks hard, leaving his eyes closed for just a moment.
“You don’t have to do this, Isabel.”
“Yes, Sir, I do. I want what you want,” I say to him. He can deny to me all he wants that he doesn’t desire this, but I know Dylan and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he does. He yearns for this kind of control. Erika showing up in our lives has shown me that. I love him. I want this for Dylan just as much as I want this for myself. I want to prove to him and to myself that I can be the submissive that he wants; that he
needs
. I can do this. I can do this.
Dylan sets the items back down momentarily while he puts some music on the stereo. It’s loud and hard, with a bass that booms deep in my belly. He turns it up louder and moves back in front of the swing. He picks up the cat and stands in front of me. Dylan closes his eyes and swivels his neck around and cracks it. When he opens his eyes – he looks fierce and magnetic. I concentrate on his eyes and how hypnotic he looks when he’s in complete control. His eyes dilate and his skilled tongue slicks across his lips.
I can do this.
Swiftly and without warning, he brings the cat down across my stomach. The sensation sends embers of pain throughout my body. I wince and scream out unintentionally. I close my eyes and bite down on my lip again. Dylan brings the cat down again, over my thighs and calves with short flicking motions, over and over, then followed by a hard snap across my crotch. I scream out again as the pain shocks my system. It feels amazing, excruciating and delicious and I feel my pussy get wet. I open my eyes again and Dylan is watching me fixedly. He leans down and spits on my already wet slit and then slowly inserts the massive dildo. I contract down on it, feeling my nerves kicking in.
He moves it in and out slowly in an upward motion that hits lady G unexpectedly and I flinch from the intensity. My breathing becomes shallow and rapid as he works it in and out of me, going deeper and hitting my cervix. The pain is overwhelming.
Maybe I really can’t do this.
I look down at Dylan’s hard-on and a small amount of
precome has started to trickle down his shaft.
I want it.
I feel as though I’m about to come when the dildo is abruptly removed and the cat is brought down hard again across my clit. I scream out again, even louder, but my voice is drowned out by the loud heavy rock music.
What song is this?
I like it. It’s sexy fucking music whatever it is. I concentrate on the words and how damned gorgeous my husband is. Yes. He’s
my husband
. He’s mine forever, I remind myself.
Fuck Erika. He’s mine
. Only I can give him what he needs now.
Again, the cat comes down harshly and I shriek. Dylan walks over to the tallboy and gets the lube out. Then he starts fucking me with the dildo again while he lubes up my ass.
Oh, hell.
He doesn’t really plan on doing
that,
does he?
Yes, he does
. After loosening up my ass with his fingers, he slowly pushes his hard dick into it while he still moves the dildo in and out of my pussy.
Holy double stuff.
I can do this. I can do this.
I feel full and uncomfortable and start to wriggle my ass around, but with his free hand, he grips my hip bone and squeezes hard, effectively stopping my movements. He pushes deeper into my ass and I hear myself moaning out something unintelligible. I’m on the verge of coming and crying, and his free hand moves up to my clit. Oh my God. I can’t take this. He’s hitting my cervix with the dildo and the pain is intensifying beyond anything I anticipated, but the sweet pleasure in my bottom and my clit are balancing out the pain in an unexpected way.
“Do you like this, Isa? Do you
really
like this?”
I can’t lie to him. “Yes, yes, Sir,” I squeal out like an oversexed little slut. Again, just as I’m about to come, he pulls out of me completely, both with his dick and the dildo, and reaches for the cat. I’m squirming from my need for release and I start to beg.
“Please, Master. Please…”
Dylan smiles wickedly and brings the cat down forcefully and hard one last time over my pussy. The leather hits my clit and with that, I come hard, with a fantastically glorious spray like a waterfall releasing from me. I’m shaking and quivering from my post orgasmic state when Dylan moves to my head, tips the swing down further and thrusts into my mouth.
This time I concentrate on breathing. I’m still gagging at how deep he’s going, but I don’t mind this time. This is dirty and I love it. He’s holding onto the swing and pushing himself deeper into the back of my throat, pulling out occasionally to let me catch my breath. I’m drooling on myself and I don’t care. Fuck embarrassment and self-consciousness right now. This is what he wants. When he looks down at me, he looks 100% bad ass. Again, he thrusts into my mouth. After several pumps, he pulls out.
“Open your mouth, love,” he orders.
He strokes himself into my open mouth, watching me possessively as I drink up his warm come. When he’s done, I lick my lips, not wanting to waste any of it. He sinks to his knees and kisses me while I’m still upside down.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” he whispers in my mouth.
“Whatever you want, Sir.”
***
Dylan
“So you like to cause pain. So what? If that’s what you want to do to me, then do it. You can do anything you want to me, Dylan.
Anything.
Because I love you; because you’re my Husband; my Sir; my Master; and because you own me completely.”
Damn
. Her voice is smooth as butter and with her final words she licks her full lips and my sex drive shifts into full throttle. This woman has no idea what her words do to me or what
she
does to me.
Or what I would do to keep her.
I’ll never
ever
get used to her being in my head and knowing exactly what I want and need to hear. I can do anything I want to her, huh?
It turns out I didn’t give Isa enough credit. She may regret saying that, but I look forward to the challenge.
I reach over and call for room service and order us some food. When I hang up I tell her, “You’ll need your energy for what I have planned for the rest of the night.”
Her eyes widen with anticipation and she watches my mouth intently.
“What
do
you have planned?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out. When the food arrives, I want you to answer the door naked,” I tell her. The
anything
starts now and I want to see her uncomfortable. Her head is lying in my lap and I’m still holding her.
“You have to be kid…” Isa starts in, but I immediately put my hand up to her mouth to shut her up.
“Do as you’re told.”
Her eyes narrow at me.
Hell no, she doesn’t.
“I mean it, Isa. I don’t want any of your attitude tonight so get that look off your face or I’ll make the rest of the night very uncomfortable for you.”
She immediately looks apologetic and tries to smile at me. “Yes, Sir, but do you
really
want me to answer the door naked?”
“
Abso-fucking-lutely. Now go wait by the door on your knees while I get things ready.”
Isa hesitates, but then she slowly gets up and starts walking towards the door. She stops, looks back at me as if waiting for me to change my mind. I hear that damned clicking of her tongue ring on her teeth and I narrow my eyes at her.
“What did I tell you about that?”
She immediately stops and then gets on her knees in front of the door. I walk over to the dining room table, clean it off from our previous activities and set out some things. It’s not long before room service arrives. I look over and Isa is slowly getting up and then stands at the door and starts twirling her hair between her fingers. She’s obviously nervous.
I love it.
I stand back and watch to see her reaction. Room service knocks again, but she still stands completely still, not answering the door.
“Isabel Young, answer the door.” I tell her loudly. She jumps and then looks back at me momentarily.
“But Dylan, please…”
I pick up the whip that I brought along and snap it loudly on the table and it startles her enough that she grabs the door knob. I snap the whip one more time and she responds appropriately by slowly opening the door.
I’m happy to see that it’s a man who brought the food up to us. I’m standing where he can’t see me, but I doubt even if he could he would look anywhere but at Isa. His eyes widen and he stutters something out. Isa is looking down at the floor and she’s maniacally twirling her hair between her fingers. The man flushes red, but his eyes move up and down Isa’s body and I feel blood rush to my cock and I harden.
That’s right… look at her - she’s all mine.
I can just imagine the color of Isa’s face right now; it’s probably something the shade of blood red.
The man nervously hands over the tray of food to Isa and she quickly grabs it, thanks him and slams the door. She brings the food over to the table and slams it down and gives me the
most evil look ever. She’s beet red, just like I knew she would be, and her mouth opens to stay something, but I snap the whip down on the table again, effectively silencing her.
“What was it you were going to say?”
Isa quickly looks down at the floor. “Nothing, Sir.”
I move the tray of food out of the way and instruct her to lay down on it. She looks confused so I lead her over and help her onto the table.
“Lie on your back and be still while I eat.”
I’m starving and the enticing smell of the food is making my stomach growl loudly. I jump when I feel hot roast beef plopped onto my belly. The heat is searing and painfully uncomfortable.
“What are you doing?” I ask when Dylan pokes my thigh with a fork.
“Quiet. Tables don’t speak.”
What the hell?
My mouth is starting to water from the smell of the meat and vegetables. Dylan puts the vegetables on my chest and the desert on my vagina.
Gee, how appropriate.
This is absolutely absurd. I’m tempted to fling the food off and slap the hell out of him with the hot roast beef, but I know better. The way he’s acting, he would probably tie me down and flog me seven ways until Sunday.
Next Dylan pours gravy over my breasts and slaps butter on my thighs. I’m doing my best to lie absolutely still but I feel like a complete jackass. He cuts into the roast beef and the knife blade skims my belly and I wince from the pain.
That seriously hurt
. He dips the roast beef into the gravy on my breasts, sliding across and around my nipple and my nipples instantly harden and pucker to his touch and from the heat of the food. He eats the forkful of food as if eating food off of a person is commonplace and the look on his face remains stoic. He cuts another piece of meat, this time cutting deeper and grazing the knife on my belly once again.
I’m so damned hungry
. To my delight, he places the food to my lips, lifts my head and I eagerly eat it.
He takes a forkful of vegetables, poking me harshly, dips it in the butter on my thighs and then eats it. He feeds me the next bite and this is how our dinner continues; one bite for him, one bite for me. When we’re finished and all the food is gone, he climbs up on the table and licks every last bit of food off of me and it feels divine. His tongue soothes my tender and burnt belly and every spot where he poked the fork. Next, he gets ice cubes from his glass and runs them over my belly, my nipples and my thighs and it alleviates the irritation as well.
Dylan climbs down from the table and pulls me down to the end like he did earlier, with my ass half hanging off and spreads my legs wide.
“Now for the real dessert,” he says and he smiles wickedly. He slaps my clit and pussy over and over.
The pain is exquisite. He slides his fingers inside of me and licks and nibbles my swollen clit. Then he slaps my pussy again. He’s unrelenting and I become unbearably uncomfortable. I start to squirm around, but he pushes my knees to my chest and slaps harder.
Holy throbbing honey hole.
I can’t take this anymore. I try and back away from him, but his strong arms pull me back and he continues to slap at me and finger me. Then he licks me and bites me. I grab his hair and pull hard trying to punish him, but he only moans and starts slapping at me again. Good Lord Almighty.
Why?
Suddenly he pulls me off the table and leads me by my hair out to the balcony. It’s freezing and there’s snow ankle deep. The cold winter air sweeps across my naked body. I’m shivering
and covered with goose bumps, and my nipples are so hard they could cut glass. The sound of the wind blowing is hypnotic and the beautiful delicate snow is floating all around us. Dylan pushes me up against the railing and proceeds to take me from behind.
God, I hope no one can see us.
Here I am buck ass naked in the dead of winter, on my wedding night, getting fucked in full view of downtown Denver. I’m thankful we’re on the 16
th
floor and high enough that hopefully no one can see this. My feet are numb from the freezing snow underneath me and my hands are frozen from the ice-cold railing that I’m holding on to. I start to shiver uncontrollably from the frigid night air and Dylan grabs my hair and pulls back hard.
I can’t take this anymore. I need to go inside and warm up but Dylan just keeps pounding into me. He’s hitting my sweet spot, but I’m so damned cold that I can’t even orgasm. I concentrate hard and go into a trance-like state, thinking only of the fact that I’m now Isabel Young.
Isabel Young. Mrs. Isabel Young.
I start to feel it, that delicious sensation just before I come. My insides warm from the impending orgasm, but Dylan pulls out of me before I find release.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he says.
He pulls me back inside and pushes me towards the bed.
“On your hands and knees,” he orders.
I’m shaking, but I do as I’m told and he starts spanking me and fucking me at the same time.
Please, please, I just want to come.
He pulls out of me and starts slapping my pussy again. The pain is too much to bear and I collapse on to my belly and start sobbing into the bed.
No safewords.
That’s what he said.
No safewords.
I would’ve screamed out red already, but he said no fucking safewords.
Is this what he really likes?
He leans down onto me and starts kissing my back and neck, and he leans into my ear.
“You’re doing so well, Isa.
Just a little more, my love.”
No. I can’t.
I can’t.
He gets up off the bed and I think he’s done, but to my horror he comes back with the whip. No.
I can’t take anymore. Please…
He stands at the foot of the bed and starts whipping my back, ass and thighs, gently at first and harder with each subsequent snap.
Jolts of pain and electricity surge throughout my body and I float out of myself and watch from above. Dylan looks beautiful punishing me. I look beautiful, too; much more beautiful than I thought I ever would. I’m being such a good girl for him. He loves me. I know he does. He doesn’t look cruel; he looks peaceful while he does this. He looks content and satisfied. Yes – I want him to be content and satisfied.
I can do this for him.
I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t enjoy this.
Yes. I enjoy it
. More than that –
I love it
.
As he continues to bring the whip across my ass, it happens without warning – I come. I scream out and my body goes into post orgasmic convulsions. Finally the whipping stops. When Dylan flips me over, he looks confused, but he’s smiling mischievously.