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My Night with Mr. When I pulled up to what looked like an a..
🕑 Added 2022-02-20 03:02:02 +0000 UTC My Night with Mr. When I pulled up to what looked like an abandoned hardware store. It was Friday night at 6:00 in February and most people were probably home having dinner. It was a dry night, and a little foggy, which made it warm enough for just a sweater. I was wearing what I had been instructed: a dress, a bra, no underwear, and something to keep warm if it was chilly. I choose a balloon sleeve sweater that makes me feel cozy on the inside. I texted him and let him know where I was and then I put on my blindfold. I sat in my car, nervous, but ready. We had been discussing this for at least two months. My keys were in my hand ready to lock my car and my doors were unlocked. A loud vehicle pulled up to my left, drivers side and stopped. I could tell it was an older truck or some kind based on the sound. My car door opened. It was starting. Without a word, he carefully grabbed my bags and guided me out of the car. I locked it, listening for the confirmation beep that the doors had locked. He guided me up and into the vehicle, which confirmed to me that it was a truck. Bench seats, he slid me across the seats right up against his body. He smelled good. Like soap. Clean. He buckled my seatbelt, threw the truck into gear with the floor mounted manual gear shift that kept bumping my leg. He pulled up my dress and put his hands between my legs, massaging my clit and slipping his finger in my pussy. He brought his fingers to my mouth and I happily cleaned them. He aggressively caressed my breasts and belly, seeming to relish in curves. The trip was short, and may have included any alley or dirt road. I didn’t hear gravel, but it sure was bumpy. He helped me out of the truck and locked it. I heard a gate open, which was confirmed when he said he needed to close the gate. We walked through a winding path and as he reached around me to unlock the door, he pulled up my skirt around my waist and smacked each ass cheek loudly. I had no idea who could see, which was exhilarating. I was still wearing the blindfold. I walked into the house. I heard a happy puppy, but I wouldn’t get to play with the puppy tonight. I was led into a space and the door shut behind me. He flipped me around and placed my wrists in wall-mounted holders, and then wrapped in very soft rope that included a wrap around my neck and through my mouth. I pressed my breasts against the door and pushed my rear out to receive what was coming. He lifted my skirt and smacked me hard. The smacking continued, then moved to what I think was a hairbrush. The pokey side definitely hurt more. He used a whip. It was very good and a huge turn on, and then I made a night-changing statement. I said, “we haven’t reached my pain threshold where I start to fight back.” Challenge accepted. He unwrapped my wrists and took the rope out of my mouth. No longer restrained to the wall, I stripped naked and stood there, exposed, still blindfolded. He placed me in a chair. A wooden chair that would prove to become slippery when wet. He placed a neck band and cuffs on me and restrained my arms behind me on the chair. He tied my legs to the chair legs and I was unable to move. I heard the snap of a lighter and in my head, I knew what was coming. Painful rivers of wax flowed down my breasts, across my stomach, and onto the tops of my thighs, which hurt the most. I couldn’t move. I squirmed against the pain and cried out. But I didn’t ask for a break. I got used to the pain. And the rush was intense. Time seemed to stand still. I was both hoping it would stop and hoping it would never stop. After he had exhausted the wax, he carefully cleaned me with a warm towel and I could hear him sweeping the wax up off the floor. I appreciated his precise nature. I could see him or his space, but the rhythm with which he planned the evening, combined with how carefully he attended to me and his space, made me feel he was a meticulous man. Before he removed me from the chair, he whipped me, made me cum, and flogged me with a leather something-that-stung-real-nice. Next he had me kneel on a soft pad, a nice touch, and started to face fuck me. He did not hold back. I puked. I swallowed it, but not all of it and I was so embarrassed. At that point, my gag reflex was going, and I wasn’t going to be good at face fucking. Instead, I licked and sucked on his balls, which were some of the nicest balls I’ve come across like ever, and he came in my mouth. He told me not to swallow and we cum swapped and he swallowed his load. He tasted so good, which is not something I say often. He had me lay on a special set of pillows that were very comfortable. He restrained me, and then sat on me, his body weight both comforting and intimidating. He smacked, flogged, whipped, and slapped me mercilessly. I cried out again and again. I writhed beneath him, which caused me to slap me. He made me cum so many times that all I remember is nearly falling off the pillows trying to escape the orgasms. Next, he moved me to his bed, and restrained me. I felt a cord brush against my leg. I thought of a wand and was immediately affirmed. For the next endless period of time, he made me cum with that wand until I could barely speak or move, all the while continuing to flog me and smack my breasts, which at this point were extremely sensitive. Then came the violet wand. He electrified his touch and enjoyed zapping me everywhere, the wetter the area the stronger the zap. The electric kisses hurt the worst. They caused a screech each time and I wished I could rub and soothe my stinging lips, but my hands were restrained. Six-and-a-half hours later, we were cuddling. It was nearly 1:00am. I honestly didn’t need much aftercare. I was surprised. I felt so serene. He helped me get dressed, led me back out of the house, still blindfolded. He got me back into the truck, this time my legs were barely able to lift myself. He took me back to my car and I waited until I heard his truck had gone until I removed my blindfold. I rubbed my eyes, pulled down the visor, flipped open the mirror and smiled at myself. The pain in my body was already setting in. Such glorious pain. And as I write this the next day, the bruising is increasing and the pain is deepening. And I can’t wait to do it again.
