The Sexy Detour

4 min read

photo: The Life Erotic

Master stops by to give me some pain and pleasure

I saw a car park through the semi-closed blinds of my living room window. I could have sworn it had been less than the five minutes he’d said it’d take for him to arrive, but I had lost all concept of time since he told me he had left his house that morning.

Jack was planning his trip back south earlier in the week when it occurred to him that I was just a short drive away from the main highway, and he could make a quick detour. It had been a while since we had seen each other, and even though the fire would ignite every time we chatted, our relationship was cooling off. Work, obligations, relationships, family, you name it. It all got in the way of our passionate nights.

If I accepted, the visit was going to be short. That wasn’t the problem though. I didn’t quite know what to expect. It wasn’t precisely a seductive, enticing proposal but a somewhat domineering one, aggressive even. That was erotic for my body nonetheless, while intimidating to the mind. If I accepted, it was on his terms.

“You have a choice until you open the door,” he threatened.

We had confirmed plans on Friday afternoon, and the only things I knew for sure were that he was coming over on Sunday and that it was going to be about pain and his will. “What I want, when I want it, how I want it,” was the way he described his visit.

I was waiting for him downstairs with the door unlocked. He had said to me that opening the door was enough consent for whatever he decided to do, and I had already considered whether I could go through with it. Sadism was imprinted all over him.

I opened the door with hesitation. The sane side of me was saying no, but none of my other parts wanted to listen. I attempted a sweet kiss, but he used roughness from the get-go. He instructed me to go upstairs. I started to climb the steps one by one but could feel my slave to lust taking over — his slave to lust.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, pulling his dick out and finding my mouth swiftly. He didn’t need to say anything; my mouth was hungry and thirsty, and my whole body had already given in to his power, the desire to be of service to him. I devoured his dick with devotion. Head first, swirling my tongue around it, then bringing his manhood in slowly, tasting every inch of him. Up, down and around. His hand didn’t hesitate to push my head with firm strength so that his dick would quickly slide down to the walls of my throat. He loved to hear me gag on his thickness and length.

Once he’d had enough of an appetizer, he was ready to go for the main course. He had made it clear that his goal was to eat my whole being alive. As the force of his power took over my body, I became weak yet infected with desire and lust. With hands and knees now on the steps, I started to climb the second part of the stairwell, although I did not make it far. A swift tug of my hair and a curt command to “wait right there” stopped me. And before he finished the sentence, and without any warning, he drove himself into my pussy furiously. Two, three, five times, I don’t know. I lost count as I lost myself in the primal way of his claim. I felt sharp slaps on my ass cheeks. Maybe the crop I saw sticking out of his bag? I can’t quite say. It became a soft touch after the second or third time.

He continued to walk up the stairs when he was satiated, and explored the room. Couch (which I knew would be his favorite spot), table (with the shy spread of my toys) and a visual of me, as I finally managed to make it upstairs and was now crawling towards him, looking disheveled with dripping sexiness and willingness. He pulled my hair again to bring me closer and signal me to kneel in front of him and take him once more.

After sucking his hard erection again, and taking it down my throat even further than before, I was instructed to follow him to the couch, where he sat comfortably watching my slow-motion moves. As I worked on rising to get on his lap, I brought my pussy closer to his shin and rubbed my clit on it. I knew I wasn’t allowed to do that, but I was burning with desire and lusting to feel his skin. My mouth found his dick again and worked it like an obedient bitch, while he rubbed my clit. The ecstasy continued to build up rapidly, and I was working hard to hold my orgasm until he so wished.

He looked at me with a mix of amusement and wickedness and ordered me to straddle him. I plunged on his lap letting his dick fill me again. He grabbed my sharply pointing nipples and pulled hard, very hard. I cried out loud and said, “That hurts.”

He looked at me with his dark, scary eyes and replied, “But Papi likes hurting you.”

Papi was the name he used when he was in charge of Niña Traviesa. I knew of his wishes. I knew I was being all he wanted me to be, his toy to play around with as he pleased. My crystal green eyes looked back at him in agony as he hurt me even more, but seeing him jump with lascivious joy gave me the strength to take the pain for him, for his inner sadist, for my owner. The pain soon became pleasure. It came in waves of lust, of sensuous submission, a shock of intoxicating sub-space that would invade my body and mind uncontrollably as he fucked me harder than I thought he could while I was riding him, edging my orgasm and holding it to allow it only when it pleased him to see my face of fiery combustion.

He made me lie down to have a taste of my very swollen clit. So swollen that he could suck and grab it into his mouth, make it a playground for it and for his tongue to enjoy, and take sweet bites with his teeth. As I tossed and turned in pleasure, he caught a glimpse of my ass and sunk those same teeth into my juicy cheek and bit hard, possessing, owning, claiming.

As he stood up to plan his next move, I managed to catch a few moments to recover. I could see his hot, sexy, dark body, his beautifully shaped ass and his muscled legs from the corner of my eye. He was walking around my table with devilish contemplation of my humble toy collection. He grabbed my dragon tail which had barely been used, waiting for a skillful mastermind like him. As I stood up, he told me to bend over facing the couch, and delivered a mix of cracks of the painful toy with thrusts of his dick into my wet, still hungry pussy. The pain and the pleasure were one indistinct feeling that kept opening the door to orgasm after orgasm. Rolled over to the side and pinned down with unprecedented firmness, I was fucked so hard that my body decided to detach and just feel and take such decadent, passionate fury. When he was done, my body melted to the floor but the thirsty beast inside of me wanted more.

“That’s enough for today,” he said as he held my wrists and zipped his pants.

He leaned down, and we kissed with the same passion we had just shared. My eyes revealed the presence of my pleasure slave, always there when with him, willing to go as far as her Master and Owner desired. Always His.

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