Hipster Intelligence Agency

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Dancer – Part 4

(Warning: Adult content!! This is Erotica about a couple in a D/s relationship. If you are offended by such things, refuse to become enlightened, and/or under the age of 18 [sorry, kids], please do not proceed.)

My eyes scanned over the small room, as I forced myself to take a breath.  All I could see was shackles, rope, paddle, whip…  My heart was beating so fast and part of my brain was screaming at me to run.  But my pussy was twitching… I was so confused.

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“It looks scary, because you have no frame of reference.  But you aren’t trying to leave, so…” Jason had lowered my feet to the floor, but had his hands on my hips.  Not holding me tightly enough to keep me from bolting, but reassuringly.  I looked into his eyes, and I’m sure panic and fear were written all over my face.  “They are all just tools, dancer. It looks scary, but it’s really not.”

I kept my hands on his shoulders, but glanced back over the ‘tools’, willing myself to dismiss the fear, as I had earlier.  He hadn’t given me any reason to fear him.  And he was right, I wanted this.  I want to find out what he does… what he is.

I smiled a little and looked back into his eyes, “You won’t hurt me?”
“Not unless you want me to, baby.” He lifted his hand to my cheek. “But I don’t really think it’s the pain that you’re afraid of…”
I felt the heat rise in my cheeks again and I looked back into the room. “Help me understand?” I whispered, my voice much quieter than I intended.

He moved behind me, and wrapped his arms around me. His breath on my neck and the warmth of his embrace were comforting, I’m sure it was all deliberate. “The bed is self explanatory,” he chuckled, as we stepped into the small room.  “I’m sure you know what the vibrators and dildos are for. This stuff,” he motioned to the shackles, cuffs, collars and ropes, “are for restraint… bondage. The paddle and crops are for spanking. This,” he picked up something that reminded me of a pom-pom, “is a flogger, for the whole body…”

I giggled as he held it in front of me to feel, this was all very surreal.  I’d seen a lot of these things, in movies and read about some of them in my step-dad’s Playboy magazines.  But stepping into a tiny, dark room with a red light, loaded with sex toys…

I turned to face him. “I… I’m…” The fear had drained, but I was uneasy.  I didn’t want to leave.  I wanted him to kiss me again, maybe even force me to my knees again… I wanted him to teach me… I wanted him to spank me…

His hands went to my hair, yet again, stroking it with his fingertips like he’d never had the chance to feel long hair before. “Listen to me, little girl, I just needed you to see it, to understand… This is me.  This is what you’re gettin’ yourself into. I’m a Dom, and I will expect you to submit to my desires, but I know you’re gonna need time. I ain’t expecting you to let me chain you up and whip you tonight….”

The excitement behind his words went right through me.  Why I was so turned on at the notion, I have no idea.  But I wanted precisely that… someday.

He stepped forward bringing his lips to barely touch mine again, “You want that, don’t you… You were scared at first, but now you’re excited… Tell me, Natalie.  Tell me again what you want.”

I looked into his eyes, starting to get breathless again. “I… I want…” I couldn’t force my brain to work, shivering as his fingers slid up my arms.
“You need to tell me, dancer,” he whispered against my lips, lifting his hands into my hair.
“I want you to spank me,” I wasn’t sure I’d actually said it until his smile reached his eyes.

He groaned and crushed his lips to mine, lifting me back up to wrap my legs around him. As he walked effortlessly to the bed, his tongue pressed and swirled with mine, stoking my arousal even more.

He sat on the bed and released the hook of my bra before pushing the straps slowly down my shoulders, pushing me away in the process.  “Take off your shorts,” he growled as he stood me on the floor.  I quickly unhooked the button but didn’t bother with the zipper, pushing them over my hips and down my lean thighs.  His eyes flowed over my body as I stepped out of them and kicked them aside.  “Panties too…”  His voice was getting lower and more gravely.  It made me clench as I hooked my thumbs in the silky strings and slipped them down my backside.  I wasn’t nervous about being naked in front of him, I liked my body and was proud of it, but I wondered how many beautiful women he’d seen… touched… fucked… spanked…

He drank me in, devouring the sight of me, and rumbled, deep in the back of his throat.  “Turn,” he commanded, and my body obeyed without thought.  His fingers slid over my skin as I turned in a circle in front of him.  He motioned with his other hand for me to keep turning, as he grabbed a remote control from the chest next to the bed, and clicked on some music.  It had a great dance beat, and I immediately began swinging my hips in tempo.  He smiled and turned up the volume, “Do your thing, dancer…”

The thought of dancing for him was embarrassing but exciting. I closed my eyes and let the sound run through me, flow over me, and manipulate my limbs.  Before long, he pulled my backside against him, forcing me to provide him a private lap dance.  He was so hard, strained against his jeans, I couldn’t imagine his restraint.  All the boys I’d been with before were out of their pants as soon as their dick was hard.  But as he turned me to straddle him again, he looked content, unrushed, …pleased.

imageI dropped my lips to his ear, “Please spank me, Sir…”
He leaned back and smiled sheepishly at me, “You really want it, don’t you, girl.”
I nodded, my own small smile forming under my flushed cheeks.

He guided me off of him to the mattress beside him. I sat back on my heels watching as he turned to face me. “Before I do, before I let you take this leap, we gotta have some ground rules.  You seeing anyone right now?”

I looked down, I hadn’t anticipated questions. “No, Sir,” he lifted my chin with his fingers so I would look at him, and his eyes were narrowed.
“Don’t lie, girl.  I’ve told you that twice, now.  I won’t repeat it.”
“I was seeing someone… He broke up with me a few a weeks ago, but has been trying to get back together with me.”
“Was I meant to be a grudge fuck?”
“No, Sir! No… I… I wanted a reason to not go back to him.”
He smirked and slid his hand into my hair, “You were looking to make me your boyfriend?”
I couldn’t help but giggle, “I don’t know.” I looked down but he tightened his grip on the back of my hair and I looked up at him, “I told you, Sir… I wanted you to want me,” I whispered, staring into his amazing, indigo eyes.

He smiled and pulled me into a kiss, but pushed me back too quickly. I frowned, watching his lips longingly as he talked about what he was about to do and what to say if it was too painful. He asked me to repeat it. He asked me again what I wanted. I think he liked hearing me ask him for that spanking, like no girl had ever asked before.

After another amazing kiss, he pulled me over his knee, wrapped one leg around mine and stroked his fingers up my back. He gathered my hair into a ponytail and wound it around his hand, every action slow and deliberate. “One more time, baby girl.”

I laid my hands on the mattress, lifting my shoulders and turning my face to look at him, “Please, please spank me, Sir. …I need it.” My voice sounded remarkably small but raspy. His eyes closed and I felt his erection beneath my hip.

As he began to rub my ass, kneading my soft, round cheeks, I lowered my cheek to the mattress and watched his face. I was not afraid at all. I didn’t really know if it would hurt, I’d been spanked before and remembered the pain, but this was so different. This was some strange form of bonding. The growing attachment between a Dominant man his girl. This would make me his. The thought filled my chest with warmth.

The first blow was hard and stung, my breath caught in my throat, but as his hand soothed the spot before rising for the second strike, I inhaled deeply. Another blow, massage and breath, and the pain felt like something else entirely. His pattern grew faster after several more smacks and I was panting in anticipation of each one.

He stopped rubbing between spanks, and my pussy throbbed and grew wetter and wetter. I lifted my bottom, wanting his hand to find new places to strike, but he tugged my hair hard and growled at me, “I decide, Dancer. Unless it is too much pain, do not try to control this!”

I was moaning and panting as the blows grew harder and faster. I had no idea how many, 20 maybe 30. My bottom burned but I felt like I could take so much more. I wanted it. I needed it.

He slid his fingers between my thighs and spread my silky juices up over my ass, groaning, “You are so fucking wet, little girl.” I realized I had closed my eyes, and lifted up to look at him again, just as his fingers delved further inside me.

I whimpered and found myself writhing against his hand, unable to settle my breath. “Oh God, Jason…” I breathed.

He smacked my ass hard, again, much harder than before, five times and rumbled, “I’m not Jason in here, slut. I am your Sir. I advise you not to make that mistake again.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I whispered. I no longer wanted more spanks. I felt terrible for disappointing him.

He smiled at my apology and let go of my hair, sliding his fingers down my back. “Good girl…”

His fingers slid around my sopping pussy lips, never quite getting to the right place, and I whined, whimpered and squirmed trying to get what I wanted and needed. He growled again and somehow flipped me and rose to stand above me before I even knew what was happening.

My head hung over the edge of the bed and he dropped one hand to my throat while slipping the other over my mound and pressing two maybe three fingers inside me. Palming my clit and gripping my neck, he began moving his fingers and palm over and inside me. “You want to cum, little dancer? Is that what you are desperate for? Well, fucking do it. Cum for your Sir!”

I gasped for air, but didn’t dare say the safeword because I couldn’t bear the idea of this moment ending. My pussy quivered and clenched, and I barely heard him hiss, “Yessss…. Cum or I’ll rip it out of you, little girl!”

All of the combined sensations grew together into one massive wave that suddenly washed over me. I’d never experienced an orgasm like it. My clit vibrated under his skin, and it was so intense that several more waves crashed against me as he released my neck and my lungs were filled with oxygen.

I realized I was still moaning and grinding against the air and opened my eyes to see him pulling his jeans off. Seeing him standing nude above me only made me even more needy. His body was not that of an athlete, but that of a hardworking man who used his form every day, to complete the tasks of life. His taught abs and deliciously muscled thighs made me quiver and I almost touched myself, watching him walk to the other side of the bed.

He grabbed my ankles and shifted me on the bed with ease. He climbed on top of me, but did not slide inside me, causing me to whine and shift beneath him, trying to coerce him to fill me.

“Who’s in charge, baby girl? Who decides?” His lips moved down my jaw and neck and his voice coated my need like Magic Shell, freezing my desperate body.
“You are, Sir. You are in control.”

He lifted his face to look into my eyes and lowered his elbows to the bed so that he could once again slip his fingers, which smelled of me and lust, into my hair. “That’s right, precious. And I’ll take your body when I’m good and ready.” His gruff whisper only cracked that shell and shot electricity through my limbs.

I lifted my hands to his hair, “Am I allowed to touch you, Sir?”

“Yes, baby, unless you are restrained, you can touch me.” I ran my fingers through his hair and tried hard to calm my body, to give him the control and not make demands. It was so difficult to surrender my will completely.

As my breathing slowed, he lowered his lips to mine and kissed me so tenderly, so unexpectedly. My eyes remained open as my fingers trailed down to his scruffy jaw. The music seems to mimic our heartbeats. His eyes were filled with something I could not discern, when he lifted up again and whispered my name.

“Natalie…”
“Yes, Sir?”
“You will stay… You won’t leave when I sleep?”
I felt my forehead crease. “I will stay, Sir. Of course I will stay.”

I don’t know why that was important, but his face relaxed and he kissed me again, this time grinding his hard cock against my pussy lips and rumbling his approval when I slid my thighs open and pulled me heels up to press against his muscular ass.

He pushed inside of me slowly, so that I could feel every inch of him stretching me open and filling me so perfectly. Like we were made for each other. Once he was sheathed completely, he pulled back until just the tip of his manhood was inside me, then slammed into me hard. I cried out at the pleasure pain of him hitting me deep inside my core. He did it again, and this time I groaned, gripping his hair between my fingers.

He moaned and pounded into me hard, driving me closer and closer to another orgasm. I lifted my hips to meet every thrust and he growled for me to open my eyes. I hadn’t even realized they were closed.

“Do you want to cum again, beautiful dancer?” He grunted.
I nodded, staring into his eyes, not sure I could speak.
“Beg, sweet slut, beg for it.”
“Oh God,” I shook, his words only lifting me higher, “Please Sir, please may I cum?”

He stopped suddenly and dropped his lips to mine, “No.” He crushed me with a painful kiss, before biting my lip. “I want you to cum with me…”

He began rocking again, but wrapped me up in his arms. My muscles clenched around his shaft and he groaned, “Yes, baby, make me cum.” I tried to keep doing it, but was going out of my mind. I realized my own moans were strained, because I was holding my own orgasm, desperate to follow his command, “Hold it baby, keep holding it. Make your Sir proud.” His whispered commands only made it harder. This strange place between fucking and making love was blowing my mind. I couldn’t hold it any more.

“Please, Sir, pretty please! I can’t hold it, I can’t stop it…”
He was staring into my eyes and smiled that gorgeous, lopsided grin, making me melt. “More.”
“Oh God… Please, please, please, Sir… pretty fucking please with a cherry on top!!!”

His eyes rolled back and I could tell he was right there too. Had he been holding it? A vein in his forehead pulsed and he grunted as he pushed into me hard, several more times, “Yes, little girl, NOW!!!”

I felt him spurting inside of me and released, pushing into that incredible climax as it enveloped me and whisked me away, rocketing me into outer space. I almost forgot to breathe.

After my aftershocks wrung me out, I opened my eyes to find him staring at me. “My dancer.”

I grinned up at him, swimming in his deep, dark eyes, completely smitten. He smiled sweetly and kissed me before sliding off me and out of me. When I whimpered at the emptiness, he stood and slipped his fingers inside me for a second, then raised them to smear the mixture of his seed and my sweetness across my lips. He chuckled as I grabbed his wrist and took his fingers into my mouth, sucking and licking them clean.

“Oh, baby girl, I hit the jackpot with you.”

As he walked to the bathroom, I watched his yummy ass and wondered if it was possible to love someone in one day. When he returned with a warm wet cloth, wiping me clean and turning me to check my bottom, I knew it was possible, but I wondered if this was typical. If he did this with all of his submissives. He reached inside a drawer, pulling out some cream and motioned for me to turn over completely. I rolled over and he sat on the mattress behind me, rubbing the cool cream into my hot skin.

“Do you always do this, Sir? Is this normal?”
“It’d be pretty shitty of me if I didn’t. When you take something apart, you have to put it back together…”

His explanation made me frown, and seeing that, he slid down onto the bed beside me and stroked my back and my hair. He kissed my cheek lightly and pulled me into his arms. I took several breaths, wanting to ask what was next and if he had meant what he said about being his. But before I got up the nerve, he whispered softly against my hair.

“It’s normal. I take care of what’s mine. I know you have some learning to do, little girl, and this is a first for me. I’ve never been with someone this way that hadn’t already experienced this…”

He paused and I leaned my head back so that I could look at him. He kissed my nose and growled, “You are by far the prettiest little thing that has ever wandered into my life and asked me to want her. Then, asking for a spanking? Well that’s just sugar on top.”

I smiled and blushed, trying to bury my face in his chest, but he grabbed my hair and pulled me back. “You for sure gonna stay? You wanna be mine?” He growled, trying to hide his vulnerability.

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“I’ll be yours. If you’ll be patient with me…” I struggled to tell him why, but knew he’d want me to be honest. “You scared me earlier, when I used your first name. You’ll have to explain the rules.” I knew I was barely audible over the music that still filled the room, but simply couldn’t speak any louder.

“I will, baby girl. And if I lose my patience, tell me when you’re scared… or hurt… we have to do that for each other.”
“Yes, Sir,” I breathed as he leaned his forehead against mine.
“You are surprising, dancer. Very surprising indeed.”

We fell asleep like that, in each other’s arms, and woke several times during the night, stroking each other, kissing, and making each other cum in fantastic ways.

Just as we did nearly every night for weeks.

Months.

To this day…

I am still His. His dancer. His submissive. And now… His Wife and the mother of His children.

I’m so glad I decided that day, in all of my teenage cockiness, to make him want me. Because he has never stopped.

 

If you are all worked up but need more, check out the rest of my erotica at pushingourlimits.wordpress.com.

 

About Mel Douleur

In my late thirties, as a wife, a mother, an administrative manager… As a woman in emotional flux, I spread my fingers across a keyboard one day to defeat the boredom inside my mind. I found that truth was actually quite interesting. I found that the imaginary was even more interesting. I found that I could write. And, Mel Douleur was born.

6 comments on “Dancer – Part 4

  1. Pingback: Dancer | Pushing our limits

  2. Hipster Racist
    April 10, 2014

    Reblogged this on Hipster Racist.

  3. tieme8
    April 10, 2014

    After that, I need a nap! Really HOT! Thanks.

  4. errantsatiety
    April 11, 2014

    Fantastic Mel! Worth waiting for this final installment 😉

  5. marcus
    April 12, 2014

    after reading all 4 instalments it’s now 2am and I’m wired. Gonna be a long night
    Oh btw
    HATFM STORY

  6. Pingback: Heartbreakers VIII | Hipster Intelligence Agency

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