Chapter 13
Bianca
When I finally end Jordan’s punishment session, I’m breathless in front of my work. In front of the swaths of beautiful red and blushing skin on his back. Which is now exquisitely bright and flushed from my efforts. His back now somehow appears bigger. Stronger. More muscular, despite still resting in a submissive position with his hands against the wall.
The sight of his whip-warmed skin, turns me on more than I’ve ever been in my life. I can’t take my eyes off him. I can’t stop studying every inch. Remembering each stroke I gave him, I imagine how his back and shoulders must feel. Hot. Maybe a little numb, but delightfully “woken up” — sensitive. Aware of each change in the air. Each object around him.
My clit clenches at this. Throbs and twitches at this, as if I was the one being flogged, not Jordan. Biting my lip, I watch as Jordan keeps his impeccable position. Not once has he faltered. Not even one tremor has entered his arms, and they’ve been holding him up against the wall for at least twenty-five minutes.
Wetness floods my folds and trickles down my inner thighs in thick, stringy streams. And he never asked me to stop. My breath goes shallow with excitement. With adoration for him. Not once! Not even when I gave him slaps with the flog that were fast and hard enough to maybe take him to that point. I reach up to Jordan’s back and begin to caress his beautiful blush.
As my hands come down on him (probably feeling colder and more intense than anything he’s ever experienced), he flinches. He trembles but doesn’t move. Doesn’t make any sound of discomfort. He just forces out a breath. Slowly. Deliberately. And, by the sound of it, through his teeth.
But no, I think, enjoying the heat beneath my fingertips. He took it all. Everything I had for him, without issue. Without complaint. Without resistance. My fingers continue their journey over Jordan’s back, savoring my patchwork masterpiece. Even by grazing the flog marks, I hear and feel the phantom crack of the flog’s tails. It firecrackers through my mind in a somersault of color and sensation. One that ends up squarely on the head of my puffy clit and drips out of my drooling lips. When I asked for a good boy, that’s exactly what I got. The best boy I’ve ever had. The most well-behaved.
I caress Jordan’s back and ass, taking that moment to glance at the front of his body to admire his substantial and stiff cock. The flared head is shiny from leaking fluid, but that makes it even more appetizing. Thicker and lengthier.
Time to reward him, I think, and time to satisfy my hunger. I’m done playing with my food.
Wordlessly, I turn him around from the wall. For a moment, his eyes look a little glazed over. A little distant, but then they focus on me totally and completely. Drink me in, as if he’s just remembered I’m here and where he is. There’s a tenderness in his eyes, as if I mean the world to him, as well as deep, insatiable hunger.
I guide him over to the bed. I sit down on the edge of the mattress and spread my legs wide before guiding him to kneel. Once in front of me like a knight ready to serve his Queen, I give Jordan the only command I know I need to give. “Show me what a good boy you can be.”
To my deep satisfaction, he goes right to work. He buries his face and mouth in my pussy. In the thick carpet of pubic hair outlining my velvety pink folds. As he licks and teases my lips and the clitoris, I clutch his hair. Run my fingers through it. Some of the ways I move, it’s like I’m giving him instructions through touch.
Or at least that’s the way it seems.
Jordan’s mouth and tongue take cues from my touch. His flittering, erratic patterns quickly drive me wild. Quickly drink pleasure and sensitivity out of me, like he’s turned from a man into a hummingbird. The way his tongue collapses in such a way so he can lick the tip of my clit and its elusive sides makes me think he’s not human, but some kind of magical creature.
I groan deeply. It’s almost a growl with how low the sound rumbles in my throat, but it’s hungry. Intense. With this alone I’m dizzy. Almost about to give him a shot of juice straight from the source, but it doesn’t compare to what’s happening now.
Jordan’s fingers entering my sopping wet and greedy hole. Knowing I don't need any more foreplay, because that's what the whipping was for, he slides three in. The minute those three fingers are inside, my pussy sucks them up. Tries to crush them with how hard they grip every inch of his fingers. Every bit of jewelry he wears. Far from being painful, it adds a delicious texture. A nuance to the in and out movement now taking place.
Slow at first, and then faster, faster, faster. Soon his fingers and his mouth move at the same glorious and punishing speed. One brushes circles around and up and down my clit; the other pumps my pussy hard and fast. Joyfully and happily, I release my nectar with each twist of his fingers. Each thrust.
Oh, my God, I think, throwing my head back. Some droplets of my impending release dribble from my depths and into his mouth, it’s never been like this before. Never when masturbating, and never with anyone else. They’ve never made me feel what he’s making me feel. I let out a shaking cry as the pressure in my bladder and vagina build. I’ve felt nothing this intense before. The exact moment I think this, a huge wave of pleasure rolls through me. My pussy lips tighten around Jordan’s fingers. My legs follow suit, clamping down on him. I feel like I’m about to go off like a bottle rocket. And when I do, I’ll shoot straight out of this solar system.
“Oh, God! God!” I scream.
My legs tighten more. Coming closer, closer, closer. But Jordan still doesn’t abort his mission, he continues to lick and finger me. He's even beginning to suck off my clit directly, which is almost more than I can handle. I scream. I moan. I thrash. It won't be long.
My screams rise and fall in the tempo and volume. “Jordan! Jordan!” Saying his name seems to be the only thing that’ll keep me present. Here long enough to feel the fuse that’s burning all throughout my body.
Shots of smaller, fleeting pleasure tumble through my head and down to my pelvis.
“Good boy, good boy,” pop. “Such a good boy.”
Jordan hums at this. I can’t be sure what he says. Or even if he says anything, but to my swollen and about-to-burst clit, it sounds like, “Always for you, my lady.”
His words explode in my mind and my orgasm follows behind. It’s quick in its rise but lasting in its release.
From the moment I surrender — fall away from the iron cables of tension that have plagued my pussy for the last few hours — it’s one continuous stream. One continuous wave of pleasure, jerking, spasming and shuttering its way through me. In an attempt to anchor myself, I grab onto Jordan’s hair.
It helps some, but I’m still quivering so much, I can barely keep myself on the mattress. It’s only because Jordan’s kneeling before me I don’t end up on the floor or leaving a puddle on the carpet.
Jordan gets it all, making a sound of surprise when I don’t just release my tensions but a pool of cum as well. He doesn’t wait to be told. He laps the evidence of my orgasm up from my lips and thighs. Gently and eagerly he moves, and it’s those feelings — those gentle flicks of his tongue — that bring me back to myself. Out of the orbit he sent me to.
When I’ve come back to myself enough to remember I’m supposed to be his domme, I direct him out from between my legs and onto his feet again. As I expected, Jordan’s face is deeply flushed with excitement, as well as the lower levels of oxygen from when I was squeezing on him. But, despite the feverish look he has to him, he seems eager to keep going.
His bright amorous eyes beg me for more instruction.
His cock begs me, though more subtly. Still erect after so long, it looks flushed in the same way his upper and middle back are. The head shines intensely now, looking fatter, plumper than it did earlier.
I lie back and open my legs to him to encourage him to tease me with his eager tip, which he does. Readily, but tenderly.
He moves his head across my lips and clit like it’s his mouth, not his penis. Like he’s Eskimo kissing me with it, not waiting to penetrate.
“Is this what you want, Mistress?” he asks in a deep husky voice.
“You’re such a good boy, Jordan. Such a good, obedient boy.”
Having him pleasure me in this way is not the only reason I lie back.
I’ve decided to give this boy something no one has ever taken from me. Something I've never given. Maybe lust has driven me insane. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and grieve the gift I'm offering him. But I doubt it. This boy is more man than anyone I’ve ever met. He gets me and because of that he gets to have me.
Another reason I’m laying down is a practical one. It’s a way for me to reach into my pink bag and grab a condom for him before we really get started.
Snatching one of those “barely there” condoms from the dark recesses of my bag, I bring it to my mouth and rip the wrapper open. I spit out the bits of packaging and remove the rubber.
“Roll this on,” I say, putting back on my commanding tone. My dominating presence, despite being on my back and seemingly the one who’s submissive.
Jordan stops immediately and takes the condom from my hand. Swiftly, deftly he robes his cock, making sure to fully cover himself.
When he’s ready, he returns his head to my gluttonous and hot pussy. He hovers just at the entrance, caressing me ever so lightly.
“Mistress?” he asks raising a questioning eyebrow and visibly shaking. “Are we going to… I mean do you want me to fuck you?”
I nod. “Be a good boy now. Don’t keep your mistress waiting."
“I won’t,” he murmurs, and then penetrates me fast. Hard.
But I love it. You really are my good boy, I think, feeling his fullness stretch and command every inch of my pussy and womb. You deserve this, Jordan. No man but you has had this, and no man but you ever will.