“Crawl to me” he growls from across the room.
I am now on my hands and knees and I have never crawled to anyone nor been requested. I am feeling oddly seductive. A dichotomy of emotions are now welling up in my submissive heart and my dominant brain. “What does he expect?” I am thinking. But I already knew the answer. He only expected one thing from me. Trust.
I lean forward, putting pressure onto my palms. I glance down at my fingers spread evenly on the short carpet and admire the shine of the purple on my nails. Looking up slowly, I let my deep brown eyes meet with his. He is smiling, but his eyes are dark.
He has a caring but hard energy about him tonight. The texts in the past 12 hours have been short, stern, and concise. They have excited me and I have anticipated and wondered how this evening would play out. I admit to myself I am enjoying each surprising twist.
The room feels much larger from the floor level. It seems to take forever to make the journey on my hands and knees. I lift my toes with each advance so as not to drag against the carpet and snag the black thigh high stockings I was instructed to wear. I pass the bed on my right, the comforter and blankets neatly folded back, the dark mahogany wood entertainment center on my left, and finally arrive at his feet as he sits in the chair next to the window.
He likes me at his feet. He enjoys the view as I sit and look up at him, adoring and waiting for his instruction. At this moment in time, I have let go of what I feel others might think of me being in this physical and mental situation. I only want to do what makes him happy. How odd a feeling this is for me. This overwhelming desire to be an unrestrained captive at this mans feet. All the protective walls of tough and Top are shed. I take guilty pleasure in knowing he is probably mentally restraining himself from physically having me now.
“You have made me very happy” he whispers and I see it in his eyes and his smile. Seconds later, a stronger deeper voice follows with “You know what to do”…
My mouth is soft. I use my lips to tighten and release the shaft, my tongue flicking in those sensitive spots that men have. I use my throat muscles to cluck against the head. An action he has instructed me to practice before this evening. I can feel more growth with each contraction. My mouth and throat are full now. Air does not pass and I relax my mind so that I don’t panic. I trust him. I trust that he is caring as well as forceful. I trust he will not let harm come to me. And I continue to give him pleasure as he moans and growls my name.
His hands are in my hair now. The grasp is tight against my scalp. I close my eyes and moan. I love the rough and primal feeling as he pushes me into him. He knows I enjoy the force. His pleasure is heightened, as I do not resist. He is loves that I give myself to him fully. My face is buried in his pelvis, and when I finally can take no more, I am pulled away, gasping and choking, drool and mucus stringing from my mouth. He tells me to stay where I am, and he stands and walks away.
From past conversations, I know that I am no longer to try and see what is happening behind me. I am not to sneak peaks as he prepares his ropes and toys. Tonight, I focus on what he expects from me. I obey his command and stay where I am. The excitement continues to build inside of me and I shift a bit to move my wet panties against my clit, admittedly stealing a bit of pleasure without permission….
To be continued…
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