Naughty Bits. Megan Hart
more and more of that sweet delicious sound as you capture your pleasure and in turn I receive mine. Licking my lips I move back to suck the large tip deeper into my throat. To create the sensation I know you so love.
You grasp my chin. “No. Stand.”
Damn.
The unyielding grip of your fingers on my jawbone washes through me and I tremble. Even the lightest touch from you on my skin makes me shake but when you firmly grasp me, my vision hazes and I begin to float in the euphoric bliss that goes back ages in time. Dominant man in control of his spirited woman. I stand without hesitation, my eyes clouded with nothing but the vision of pleasing you. Of giving you all my power to do with as you wish.
You smile at me, devotion and excitement swirling in the depths of your gaze.
God, you make my knees weak.
You lead me, your fingers entwined with mine, into the woods, away from the lake and the pretty view that we enjoyed on our first encounter. Deep into the trees we walk, neither one of us saying a word. I wonder what you have planned but know I will enjoy it no matter what it is.
We reach a set of trees that are equal in size and spread about five feet apart. There is a large grouping of boulders off to one side by which you have placed your backpack, and a flask.
“Give me your pack.” You hold out your hand to me.
I hand over the bag, which contains the water and warm blanket you requested.
You grasp them in one hand and with the other you grab my hair. Tingles shoot through my scalp and you pull my lips to yours. The warmth of your mouth devours mine; the taste of Red Bull on your tongue as it plunges in, tangling slowly, warms me to my toes. The flavor I will forever associate with you.
My nipples are pebble-hard and I groan, wanting to touch you, to feel your skin beneath my hands, but I stand absolutely still as I have been trained by you to do.
You slip my jacket from my shoulders and off of me. I shiver, but more from excitement than the cold. I only want to please you, to excite you and bring you pleasure.
You walk me to the trees. There your fingers wrap my palm and you raise my arm, placing a fur-lined cuff about my wrist. The cuff is attached to the tree by rope. You do the same with my other hand, smiling a very devious smile. God, I love that smile. It is the smile that inhabits my every dream, my every memory of us. I tug on my arms to see if I have any room for escape. The cuffs dig into the base of my hand but don’t slip over.
“No escape.”
“Yes, Master. You know me, I had to check.” I grin at you.
You laugh as a blindfold emerges from your pocket and you slip it over my head. The soft fur underlining slides down my forehead and the last thing I see is your lips grinning at me.
Oh dear…what do you have planned?
My heart pounds and my breath hitches in my throat. I try to relax but it is impossible—my arms and legs begin to shake in anticipation of the unknown act you are about to press upon me for your pleasure, for my pleasure, for us.
Cold metal strokes my forearm, a single caress. Too quick for me to discern what it is exactly. Then the cold traces my shoulder and up my neck.
“Hold still, my slut. I wouldn’t want to cut you.”
Cut? The word slides panic straight to my gut.
A knife.
I inhale sharply and my body trembles involuntarily. I try to hold as still as possible as the blade traces the collar on my T-shirt, flowing like an eroticized paintbrush down between my breasts. The cold steel excites everywhere it touches.
The hem of my shirt lifts and pulls from my body. The knife reaches the place where fabric no longer is a part of me and I hear the material tear. It is a sharp knife. My stomach flips on the knowledge you could cut me at any moment. I inhale slowly and my trust in you calms my beating heart.
The knife cuts through the cotton, splitting the shirt from just below my breasts to the hem. My arms jump and shake and you pull the two tails of shirt, tearing the rest apart, exposing my breasts to the air. The difference in temperature tingles along my skin and your fingers graze my nipples. I moan, arching towards you, wanting you to pinch and suckle my peaked flesh. “Please.”
“Beautiful.” Your deep voice is full of love and warms my heart. “Stay still.” The cool tip of the knife touches the tip of my nipple then gently flicks it. A pinprick of pain is instantly soothed by the warm wetness of your tongue swirling about the bud.
“Ahhh.” My pussy throbs and my legs part trying to ease the ache sharpened by your domination. Your mouth’s caress leaves my puckered tip and your hair brushes the underside of my raised arm as you duck under it. I suck in a breath as my body shakes. The knife continues…
You cut up the backside of my shirt, then slide the separated pieces up my arms and off my cuffed hands. The cool air washes my heated skin and gooseflesh rises. There is a tug on my waistband, the button pops free and the zipper falls. You push the shorts down my legs and they pool at my feet. Yes, indeed. My pussy needs you.
“Kick them free.” Your voice sounds as if you have stepped quite a distance from my body.
“Yes, Master.” I wiggle my feet wanting to expose my hungry wet flesh for your pleasure. My legs continue to shake as I first work one foot free, then the other and kick my shorts from my body.
I stand nude for what seems like eternity, only the cold air touching my skin. I swallow hard and wait…wait to see what it is that you wish of me.
You pull my hair back and the knife scrapes like sandpaper up my neck from nape to chin. I shake uncontrollably as you hold the blade under my chin.
Your tongue snakes into my ear, swirling the curve and then dipping into the cup. “Such a sweet thing you are. Bound and totally at my will.” You pull from me and I am left panting for breath as my pussy spasms, wanting any part of you to touch the sopping wet flesh.
The cold blade traces up the inside of my thigh. I jump.
“Hold.”
I stiffen, my breath tight. My muscles aching to tremble as the press travels up the inside of my leg to the crease of my buttock cheek and thigh. You hold the steel there and your other hand rubs the cheeks of my ass as if I am a skittish dog in need of a gentle hand.
The metal turns from cold to the temperature of my body. You gently slide the base of the blade over to touch my labia.
I groan, my pussy overflowing and twitching with juices. The blade slowly parts the folds of my sex, spreading the lips wide. I hold absolutely still. Your finger slides into my cunny.
I scream, my inner muscles clamping about your finger, but I don’t dare move—the knife still holds my sensitive flesh. You remove your finger. The blade releases my labia and I hear you place your fingers into your mouth and suck them. My tongue traces my lips in a search for my tart flavor, but finds none.
“The best fruit this blade has opened yet.” I feel the smile in your tone.
I am proud I have pleased you. A sigh of contentedness and relief presses from my lungs.
Your footfalls sound and I sag slightly on my arms allowing the rope and cuffs to support me. Your voice calls from behind me, not far, but not close. “Arch your back and display your ass to me.”
I hear the rustling of tree leaves as I widen my stance and thrust my ass back in the direction of your voice.
Swoosh…
Swoosh…
“This will do quite nicely.” Your tone holds a note of humor.
What this is I have little time to consider.
Swoosh…
A long thin switch cuts across