Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Forgiveness

She walked back into the bedroom. “The kids are finally asleep. Not that it really needs to be said, but no marshmellows, well ever”. Her eyes snapped up to his glare and she nearly took a step backwards. He came striding across the room with such force that she dropped to her knees before his hands could command it. He made the two finger hand signal anyway; he was nothing if not consistent. She only saw the movement out of the corner of her eye, her head was down, awaiting instruction. It had been a few days since the boys had gone to sleep early enough to let them play, and she was happy not to waste time.

One finger moved out to the right and she began to strip. One finger was top half only and her eagerness showed as it only took moments before her shirt and bra hit the floor. He widen his stance, and she took her cue to unbuckle his pants and preform her favorite task. The night was young, so she knew he wouldn’t let her finish, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Every once and awhile she could spring an orgasm on him, which usually got her in trouble, but it was always totally worth it. It was one of her brattier qualities. He was on to her game though and smacked the back of her head, because the simple tap wasn’t good enough. She pulled back and licked her lips, though still not raising her gaze.
“Get on the bed cunt, cuffs on, clothes off.”
“May I please leave my socks on Sir?”
“Until you piss me off Cunt, you may. If you think to keep up that shit you just pulled I will have your socks off and you standing in a cold shower. Arms up.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Her hands went up and were clicked together. Her eyes closed as a sense of calm overtook her. She heard the rope slide around the headboard and felt her arms pulled up. She felt the bed shift and her eyes opened to follow his body move around to her feet. Even strung up, she needed to be ready for any signals. He glanced at her, almost to check if she was paying attention. The glint in his eye aroused and scared her at the same time, damn him.
He pulled out the black flogger. She breathed a little easier as it looked like he was going to at least give her a warm-up. He started on her thighs and swung back and forth hitting each one in turn. She closed her eyes again as the rhythm continued, but as soon as she saw the backs of her eyelids he brought the flogger down directly on her pussy. Her eyes shot open with an, “Oww.”
“Wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable.” His smirk made her want to smack him, but also made her wetter than she wanted to admit. He laughed as he read her exasperated sigh and continued with the flogger. After three rounds up and down her body he dropped the toy and walked back to his dresser drawer. All his toys laid out like artifacts on velvet. While his back was turned she closed her eyes briefly to will him to avoid the cane. Tonight she just wasn’t ready, and she didn’t want to safe word and ruin his fun.
The boys had been trying to say the least this afternoon. Dinner had almost burned when the three year old got his sippy cup open and spilled chocolate milk all over the living room floor. While trying to clean the carpet she had forgotten about the chicken. By the time she got back to the kitchen, the dish was almost inediblely dry. Biting her lip so she wouldn’t cry, she pulled the best pieces for Sir’s plate and hoped he wouldn’t notice with some extra sauce. He hadn’t complained, but he hadn’t complimented her as he usually did either. Her mood had not improved and she needed to feel that he was still satisfied with her. But, if she safe worded, even if he wasn’t disappointed, there would be no release for her.
He took his time making his selection, which gave her a moment to try and clear her head for whatever was coming. When he finally turned, she almost laughed with relief as she looked at the wooden paddle in his hand. It wasn’t the most pleasant thing he could’ve chosen, but it was something she knew she had the strength to endure tonight. He ran his hand up her inner thigh to feel her practically dripping. She was almost as surprised as he was as he wiped his fingers across her stomach, she needed this more than she realized. He started with her breasts, not hard, but as they were already peaked and sensitive, a little went a long way. By the time he moved to her thighs she was panting. Her body was already starting to tense, she knew she would have to start begging now. He never said that she could come the first time she asked and she had learned long ago that it was better to start begging early than to come without permission.
“May I please come Sir?” He snorted in response and hit her left breast with force and skill. She writhed as much as she could with her limited movement and tried to focus on her breathing. After several more pleas, snorts, and painful (but so arousing) hits he dropped the paddle. He climbed onto the bed, grabbed her right leg and flipped her onto her stomach. She immediately pulled her knees up and squared her elbows; not wanting to keep him waiting. He grabbed her hair as he trust into her, followed quickly by a hard slap on her ass.
Her pleas began again in earnest. “Please Sir, can I come? Please.”
“You think you deserve to come, cunt?” She knew it wasn’t wise to answer the question directly, either answer could get her in trouble. So she took the safe bet.
“Please, Sir.” He slammed into her at speed, he was getting close. “Please may I come?” Another hard smack.
“You can come cunt.” She matched him thrust for thrust, wanting to come with him before he changed his mind. As his grunts came hard and fast she hit her peak and bit her lip to keep from screaming.  Sir didn’t mind her noises, but after the day she had, the last thing she wanted was to wake the kids. Luckily, they were heavy sleepers, but she wouldn’t chance it.
He collapsed on her and his breathing slowed. She enjoyed the weight of him. She heard the click of the cuff release and her hands hit the mattress, he rolled off the bed and grabbed a towel from the stack on the hope chest. He threw another at her as he walked back the bed. She moved to her side and he climbed in and immediately wrapped his arms around her. She sunk into him, throwing the towel on the floor. He gabbed the duvet and pulled it over them both.
“Can I sleep in my cuffs, Sir?” He didn’t even flinch.
“Only if you forgive yourself for whatever happened to make you overlook the chicken. I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t have done that unless something out of the ordinary happened.” So he had noticed, shit.
“There was a mishap with some milk on the living room carpet. Is that why you jumped right into the scene tonight?”
“I knew it would throw you off. I needed to clear my cunt’s head. Can’t have you all foggy and worried about what you did wrong twenty minutes ago. I need you focused. So you can worry about what you are about to do wrong, right?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at me.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
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3 Responses to “Forgiveness”

  • mostly mouse

    Very nice.

  • little girl

    This is the first time I’ve stopped by your blog. Sounds like a very great evening!!

  • CollaredMom

    Thanks mouse. And thank you for stopping by little girl. A great evening indeed. 😉

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