Her grace and willingness astounds me at times. She takes my breath away, with the strength of her submission and makes my cunt ache with desire. The passion, quietly dormant inside of me, is brought to full force simply by the bowing of her neck and her whispered "yes Ma'am". So many scenes, spontaneous and planned. The strength in her exciting me, awakening the Beast who wants to bite through her flesh and lap at her life blood.
She bends across the bed. Her only restraint is her obedience to me. I grab fistfuls of her flesh, twisting the warmth of her body. My hot breath against her ear, telling her my need, before my fangs dive into a soft spot and bite...hard. She writhes beneath me, moans forced from her throat. I hold her knife in my hand. The knife that has her power, her energy, her sharpness coursing through it. The coldness of the blade kisses her throat, her face and then ever so slowly trails down her back. My hand pressing against her shoulder blades to remind her to keep still as the sharpness leaves red welts from shoulder to thigh. I want more. The Beast wants more. She wants to cut her open, to enter her completely, to drink. I hold the knife between her trembling legs, drops of wetness clinging to her thighs. Inhaling her scent, I slide the blade along the soft, tender skin where thigh meets cunt.
I turn her around, stare into her eyes filled with wanting, with desire, with fear. My lips brutally join hers, than rip away. She arches towards me, trying to recapture them. Instead, her chest it met by the point of the knife. I press the tip into her skin, wanting to puncture her with savagery. I play with my passion, turning the blade, twisting it deeper into her.
I want to take her. I want to fuck her with her knife. I want to hear her scream. But not yet.
Black leather belt, doubled up in my hand. Her back towards me, waiting for the blow. I watch her, pacing behind her, planning my attack, timing it to her breath. Her exhale turns into a scream with the first impact. Then the second to match the first. A rhythm of blows dancing on her back as all of my focus and energy is on her. Then we both hear the growl and the bark of her dog. Scene stops and she is instantly snaps up from bottom space to protect me from possible attack. We laugh together as the puppy thinks that we should stop playing with each other, and start playing with him. I center her again back on the bed, she deepen her breaths and I start to hit her. Again, the dog bounces and barks to be played with and again, we laugh. However, I'm frustrated, thinking we'll have to call the scene.
Then, she makes the most beautiful act of submission. She slides off the bed and kneels at my feet, her head resting on my thighs. She offers her back fully to me and I am overwhelmed by the pride I have in her. I gift her with my pain, raining blows upon her back and her ass. She cries and dances with each strike, but accepts them fully. "Six more" I tell her and she whimpers. I take my time with these, I want this moment to last. I want to remember looking down at her body, offered completely and trusting to me. I want to remember the feeling in my arm as I raised the belt overhead and slammed it down on her waiting back and ass. I want to remember the sound of the slap of the leather against her soft flesh. I want to remember dropping down to join her on the floor and pulling her onto my lap. Holding her, soothing her, feeding her the way she feds me.
There is strength in submission. There is power in submission. I have been blessed with a powerful, strong, and willing submissive. I honor her. I honor the responsibility.
©copyright Crave 2001
