The Altar

I just wanted to thank everyone for reading the original of this story. I’ve taken the time to give it a massive overhaul and I hope everyone likes it. Enjoy.

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In the dimly lit dining room, John sipped his wine. His eyes went from the front door down the hall to the clock, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. Where was she? Who was she with? What was she doing? Absentmindedly, he filled his glass with the dark merlot again. He sat silently, staring at the clock, sipping his glass empty without another thought. Time passed and so did another glass, which did nothing for John’s temperature. Anger began to enrage his senses, and he shattered his fragile wine glass with one firm squeeze.

“Shit!” he grew, glaring at the door, “she will be punished for making me wait.” The up until now, lifeless panel of wood shook weakly as a soft fist hammered it from the other side.

“You’re late!” he howled down the hall. John stormed down the hall and tore the door wide open, almost breaking it off its hinges. He took one look at the alluring figure in his doorway and melted into her eyes. “Well, come in,” he spoke, half-sternly. No matter how angry she made him, John loved her too much to stay so angry.

“My deepest apologies, Sir,” Samantha muttered.

He watched as the carnal figure swept in, then closed and locked the door. The air seemed to flow With her every movement down the hallway to the dining room. Each strand of her long hair sweeped freely as her slender, yet curvy physique individualsed him to follow her. John particularly liked her dress, this evening. It was long and raven black, the same as her hair, with a long slit going the full length from high above the hip to the ankle on her left leg. He could just barely see her waist at the cusp of the slit and it Drave him wild. Then, he noticed her shoulders. Samantha looked back for only a moment over her left shoulder. Her lips parted and she dropped her coat lewdly down her arms. She spread her fingers through her hair, pulling it up, deliberately exposing her neck. She knew he loved her neck the most; so tender and aching to be bitten. Samantha continued to play her little game, teasing him and driving him even hotter with lust. With graduate, languid movements she raised her left foot onto the chair and meticulously slide her hands up her thigh, pulling her dress up to completely expose her leg. Samantha could feel his eyes burning on her skin as she unclasped her six inch heel and kicked it to the floor. As much as she loved toying with John’s mind and libido, she knew her role. “Why are you late,” he spoke in a stern, steady tone.

Her lips trembled immediately in response to his voice. Samantha knew she would be punished, and a whimper of panic and desire slipped from her lips. Deep inside, she loved when he paid her, but hated it when she had to be. She loved John with all of her heart, mind, and body. She wanted nothing more than to make him happy and do as he asked, but sometimes disappointing him was unavoidable. To every other woman, he must have been the tall, dark, and handsome stereotype, but she knew differently. He was hers as she was his. He was so much more than his businessman facade. “It was traffic, Sir. Am I to be punished?” Samantha asked nervously as she unfasted her other heel.

He looked into his beloved’s eyes with a genial smile and struggled to read her thoughts. “I see no reason to punish you for heavy traffic. It’s something outside your control, and I am not so unfair as to punish you for something outside your control.” John glanced at the table and nodded, signaling a command Samantha already knew.

She understand completely. It was going to be like last month when he tied her to the table for the first time. She told with an overager anticipation and cleared the table of the broken glass and wine bottle. As she folded up the table clothes, enthusiasm drained from her expression as sheslowly came to terms with the new dining room table. Samantha mewled in awe at what was once the dining room table. An altar was hidden beneath the clothes, rather than the table she cleaned off after dinner the night before. The altar was primarily made of solid oak with an ornate grapevine design around the base. It looked much like a casket would if the lid couldn’t come off. Instead of a curved, solid lid, there was a bed of sorts Inset into the top. It was just a feathered mattress, with a red velvet slip cover, but impressive nonetheless. At each corner, there was a heavy iron shadowle, bound to the frame by only one link. Samantha’s body trembled under the implications of the new altar, and her sex began to fill with heat.

“Th… thi.. this. is,” she stammered.

“Yes, I had it brought in, today,” John said with a proud smile. “Its design is based on your measurements, of course and the shadowles were shipped in from a metalworker somewhere in Russia. Do you like it? Oh,of course you do,” he replied confidently. “I can tell, just by looking at you.”

Samantha’s body betrayed her. At first, John was a bit concerned about her reaction, but the sweet aroma of her waking sex eased his thoughts. He looked leisurely up and down her body, admiring her every curve and characteristic. What John loved the most about Samantha, was her response to a stimulus. Inwardly, he reached to see her react to his. The way her lips parted with every breath, the way her breasts heaved under her dress, the way her fingers twitched with excitement, and the way her eyes filled with longing for what would soon come all drive him wild. He couldn’t blow her for staring at the altar. He stared too when it was first brought in.

Samantha had to brace herself on the altar to keep from falling. To think, she would be bound to this, only to serve him. She struggled to fight her rising thirst, but it was something she had never been able to control. The mons began to throb andmoisten as her heart rate rose higher and higher. Passion consumed her, as her ache for him became almost unbearable. For the first time, she was scared of what would happen. Why was he waiting? Why was he just watching her? Why didn’t he just take her and ease both their suffering? Why doesn’t he give her the instructions he knows she’s waiting for? John wanted her as much as she did and she knew it, but This game he was playing was just cruel.

Worried, John walked behind Samantha and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body. “Are you okay, my love,” he interrogated, “you don’t look well.”

“I’m okay, Sir,” Samantha whispered reassuringly, “I was just surprised.”

Carefully, John guided her onto the altar bed, and laid her onto her back. Without resistance, she let him lift her ankles to the foot of it. With a smile of confidence, he looked over her in her weakened state, perhaps enjoying it a bit too much. He caressed up and down her left calendarand brought her delicate state back down. John knew she needed this sort of attention every now and again, and he was more than happy to give it to her. Her sight of relief and her steamed breathing comfortable him greatly as he continued to her other calm. Watching her eyes intently, John grazed his finger tips up her right thigh, the heat of her sex bathing his right hand as it reached her pelvis. Pretending not to notice her Heightened state of arousal, he leaned down over her and began kissing the inside of her left thigh. The game continuing, John caressed more firmly down her left leg and shackled her ankle to the altar.

Samantha’s heart left from her chest as she felt the cold iron shadow around her ankle. She opened her eyes and watched him as he continued kissing her thighs, and let out occasional faith moans. Then, the other ankle. Hungry for more, she bent her knees slightly, parting her tights even further for him. She could smell the scent leaking from between her legs and know he must also, but he didn’t stop or do anything more. He just kept kissing her thighs, forcing her to wait for satisfaction. With pleading eyes, she looked down into his, as he lovingly nuzzled her thigh and ticckled her with his stubble. Samantha let a small giggle slip and quickly replaced her composition as he moved to stand over her head. She whimpered as he pulled each wrist up and bound them tightly to the altar. Then it hit her. She felt like a sacrifice to a god. The idea of ​​being sacrificed on this altar for the pleasure of one just made her need even more rabid.

John climbed onto the altar and straddled her hips, hoisting her dress up beneath him as much as he could. He gazed sternly into Samantha’s eyes as he undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. “You’re so beautiful, my pet” he whispered.

“Thank you, Sir,” she murmured in return. She loved looking at him. His muscles weren’t too big. His skin was soft and tender. His chest hair was thick in all the right spots. He was her man and she loved him. She would do anything for him. Seeing his bare chest, she wanted to kiss all her lips could find of him. She wanted to touch him everywhere so he could feel her love. Mostly, however, she just wanted to please him. Feeling slightly more daring, she let her gaze travel to his groin and then return to his eyes with a seductive look and a lick of her lips. She remembered last time she was bound to a table when he fucked her mouth, and she wanted to serve her master like that again. Right now, she was ready to do anything for just a chance at tasting him.

John chuckled and grew lowly at her, shaking his head. “Not this time, my love,” he teased, leaving her slightly disappointed.

He reached down under her, grabbing the back of her dress, and pulled it down until her breasts were released from it. He grinned and licked his lips, then looked mischievously into his lover’s eyes. Arching his back low, he moved so his lips hovered over her right nipple and blew softly on it. His tongue snaked out, flicking her nipple hard and sent shivers down her back. John glanced down from her eyes to her luscious breasts and quickly bit down on her right nipple, giving it a sudden tug. He moaned softly as she arched her breasts towards his face and did it again, this time sucking on it before releasing it. He basked in the echoes of her pain with Each bite, teasing her left nipple in the same manner, making them hard and swollen. Satisfied, John sat up and returned his eyes to hers. She had bitten her lip from winning and it was bleeding. Smiling lovingly, he leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, tracing the cut with his tongue until it no longer bleed. “Try not to hurt yourself, pet” he whispered before pulling away again.

Breathing heavily, Samantha watched as John stood up and walked over to one of the candle scenarios on the wall. He took down the tall pillar candle and lazily walked back, making sure to take histime. As much as he enjoyed a hot, quick fuck, he had been planning this for weeks, and he wasn’t going to waste it on her hedonistic desires. Well, not yet. John grinned as he straddled her hips once more, admiring the way the candle light danced with the shadows of her breasts. Carefully, he tilted the candle downward, expertly rotating it in his fingers as he did so, and watched as the hot wax dripped in a long, linear stream just above Samantha’s right nipple. A wide grin consumed his lips as she winced in pain and thrusts her breasts forward. Her suffering fueled his hunger even more, and he leaked hot wax onto her left breast, also. His lustful gaze retired in the pain she was undergoing as her teeth clnched and her nipples turned completely solid. In a swift, fluid motion, he leaned his head down, and blew softly over the hot wax. With a sly grin and a glance to her expression, he quickly bit down on her nipple once more, more violently this time, tugging on it as hard as hecould with a growl. Samantha understood wildly beneath him, eyes opened wide as her ankles and wrists pulled at the shackles. The groan of her password echoed far through the house and just as far into John’s soul. He sensed her need right away.

Samantha closed her eyes and loosened her muscles, letting her limbs collapse in submission to her lover’s will. His fingers flicked the hardened wax off her breasts as she tried to slow her breathing, but it was no use. Her password and want for him only continued to enrage her senses even more. She wanted him but couldn’t get to him. scooted down her thighs a bit and she knew immediately what was coming. Yes! His fingers expertly stroked the sensitive bud above her entrance and gave her the contact she so desperately wanted. She started to grind her pelvis up into his fingers, but felt that wasn’t what he wanted when he stopped. Then, so suddenly, his fingers pushed deep into her and made her inner muscles mistake and squeeze around them. Yes! Samantha pushed forward like it was his shake, trying to force him deeper into her. She could feel his fingers rotating inside her, stroking her inner walls when the tips finally reached that spot, but he didn’t stroke it they way she wanted. Without warning her cliporis jerked and throbbed violently as she felt the hot sting of the wax coat it. Her scream bellowed loudly into the air. Samantha wanted to fight her lover. This was too much. Then he did it once more and she felt the wax sting the outer rim of her tender lips. “Ohh God!” she yelled once more.

John looked on pleasantly at how good she was for him. Finally, she stopped moving almost completely, as if in a shallow dream. She no longer felt pain or pleasure. They were the same to her. He started to stroke his fingers in and out of her in long, slow thrusts, rotating his wrist with each penetration. John looked on lovingly at how she gave in. She didn’t move to satisfy the fire that burned inside. She didn’t plead or beg him to give her release. She just accepted that it would come when he was ready. It was time. His love continued to whimper as he pulled his fingers out and unfasted his dark slacks and slid them down his hips. He moved to rest over her, bracing himself on the solid oak above her shoulders and grinded his thick length along her. John couldn’t deny that her submission gave him so much pleasure and his breath became ragged with the same lust and need that she felt. He leaned forward and gently kissed the side of her neck, whispering his love to her.

Just barely, Samantha felt his teeth clench into her neck. She knew what was coming, but she couldn’t move anymore. Her muscles had stopped working and her senses were too confused. Her moan signed what she waited all evening for. Her lover had finally taken her and she Couldn’t help but gasp as his shaft stretched and pulsed inside her wanton sex. She just gave over and let him have her. She was his and she loved that label more than any pet name he gave her. His thrusts became deeper and harder, filling the void of her soul over and over again. Yes! Her nervouss and muscles twitched as her bliss reached new heights. She was close and knew he was too. His growls echoed into her mind as if they were far off as he dug his teeth harder and harder into her neck. Yes! Her muscles stiffened and he stopped for a moment, driving hard once more into her and screamed extremely as their lust reached culmination.

John listened to Samantha gasp harshly for air and struggled to find his own. Her muscles continued to milk him of his seed until he could’t give anymore. Tired and dazed, he collapsed onto her, nuzzling his face into her shoulder, and basked in the afterglow of their password. Now it was his turn to give her what she needed. Sleepily, he reached to unfasten the shadows from her wrists so that she may hold him. He knew she needed this. She needed this reassurance of love and John was more than happyto provide. It was this love that made them so compatible.

“I love you, Master,” she whispered.

“I love you, pet,” he replied with great satisfaction.

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Samantha woman next to him to the smell of their password. She was nude, and they were in bed. John must have carried her. She ticked his bare chest with her fingernails, whimpering gently. “I thought we were going out tonight,” she joked.

“I decided I didn’t want to,” he replied with a smug grin, handing her the wedding band she left on the table in the morning.

She smiled, putting it back on. “I’m not complaining.”

“Happy anniversary, baby,” he laughed.