The Table

Before leaving the room she stated directly, “Strip and get on the table.” So there I was, waiting; for what seemed longer than it actually was, I’m sure. On my back, naked, nothing really to look at, grateful the room was warm as this night was cold and windy, and me, with a full, quivering erection.

When the door opened I think I jumped off the paper covered table. She said nothing as she walked to my side, snapped on the latex gloves, wrapped one hand around my cock and began a deliberate stroke of it. Full, firm strokes that were intended to excite. She watched me with a cool uninvolved expression as she handled it. And handle it she did. No break in her stride, for minutes on end. As the feeling intensified my breathing became short, and shallow. “Concentrate on your breathing, slow it down.” I did as she said and after a few moments; “Yes, that’s it, deep breaths, slowly now. Much better. You will be able to handle so much more this way. I want you to take more, much more.” Then she added with a chuckle “For a long, long time.”

I did what she wanted as she did what she wanted. I struggled to maintain balance as her incessant stroking moved me to higher levels of excitement. Some times I would tense up, she told me to relax. Some times I would lose the breathing pattern, she told me to regain control.

When she sensed I was at the edge, she would stop, wait then start again. As we traveled together to the edge and back her expression began to change; from the early essentially emotionally look to one of amusement, brightness in her eyes grew. She enjoyed this, enjoyed the control, and enjoyed my struggle. Me, I was easy to read. I was submitting. I was becoming tuned to her, taking pleasure in obeying her. I wanted to do as she said, wanted to accept what she wanted me to accept…the longer she stroked the deeper the submission.

Her tempo would change from time to time but generally became slower, more delicate. As she learned aboutme she was able to stay closer to that edge; so close I would respond with nothing more than a touch. It was ageing, but ageingly good.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Tell me more.”

“Describe your feelings?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Are you mine”

“Give yourself to me”

“Worship me”

“Whose cock is this?”

And on.

And on.

In the middle of one answer she placed her finger to my lips and interrupted with a simple word: “Suck!” I did. Like a whore, and a hungry baby, I did. The more she showed she was pleased, the more intensely I sucked.

During this, her struggling had stopped altogether. Instead she began to pinch, to probe, pull, and twist. She was using them; Her cock, Her balls, Her nipples. Sometimes it bring pleasure, sometimes disappoint, sometimes pain. The submission grow deeper.

I lost track of the number of times she brought me to the edge. The differences betweeneen the pleasure of being handled, the pinching and numbness from the clamps she used, the sting from her slaps, they all began to blur. I grew to know the meaning of the term manhandled, I liked it.

“Roll over!”

“Up on your knees.”

“Up on the table!

“Head on the table!

“Get that ass of mine in the air now, spread those legs, I want to get at it, NOW!”

Several smokes and commands later She had me positioned as She wished. Placed just right, She calmed down and seemed pleased. I felt the cooling of the lubricant.

Her fingers probed that place; gratefully she broke it in slowly, as I am always nervously tight there, she probe and spoke. She told me how in time I would learn to take more from Her. More in this way, more in many ways.

As I listened, I sometimes felt like I was going to pee, sometimes it felt like I was going to cum.

She told me how she wanted me to submit to her more easily, quickly, trustingly; how she wanted me to give myself to her in a way more to her liking. She told me about some of those things that were more to her liking, and worked Her ass as She spoke.

Eventually she replaced her fingers with something else. I felt full. I felt the low vibrations begin.

She began stroking it again, this time with lubricant, and the vibrations continued. I do not know how long this goes on. Time is suspended. Pleasure can become confusingly un-pleasurable, when tease and denial go to work on you. But I of course, became even more her slut; and she made sure I told her this in many ways and many times, and made those promises one does in this state.

Then the percussion comes. From Her hand, from other tools; some broad, some narrow, flexible, rigid.

Her marks on me grow, I am proud to wear them.

My position is changed a few times; to provide “Better access to other parts of Her slut.”

The pain is played against the arousal. The pleasure, heat,agitation…..confession.

It continues just as it pleases Her, and I realize, also me. Submission.

Then everything stops, the vibrating plug is removed, I am put back on the table and told to stay where I am, just as I am, She leaves the room. I burn, sting, throb; grateful for the respite, yet already missing Her. I cry a little, but from what?

I cannot see who enters, but When She speaks I know it is Her. I also know She is not alone. I am blindfolded. She begins to show me to Her companion, describes what has been taking place. Questioning me anew about my submission, I am told to spread my cheeks, told to stroke, to confess my yearsnings, to let myself be Hers. I am helped off my knees and told to stand next to the table.

I am repositioned at the table’s end. My legs are spread, a bar attached. My arms are taken behind me and fixed in place. I am bent at the wait over the table. As my head lowers I find Her.

Her scent fills me with a heady perfume thatis like water to a dying man. I gratefully worship her with my mouth and tongue as she pulls my head into Her.

Following her directions and with a desire to perfectly service the mound of my worship. From behind the stranger’s hand takes up the stroking.

“Lick me here, Yes!”

“Worship Me! “Control your breathing.”

“submit…Submit! SUBMIT!

It all seem so natural, as I am taken from behind. The earlier treatment has relaxed me; I am full but it feels good, I move against it and add to the rhythm. My Mistress cums in my mouth. I try to continue but She moves away.

I know it is Her hand on me; stroking me again, like at the beginning. Stroked and fucked and asked again to tell of my submission. I do, of course. I tell them everything; tell them to bring them on; cocks, pussies, asses, taints – anything that needs serving, I will give and be taken as long as there are those wanting service.

But please, PLEASE, let me come……………….