Our Game

Our Game by VK
[F4M][MF][FEMSUB][BDSM][D/s][EXHIBITION][WHIPPING][Aftercare]


We didn't like these mandatory events, so it's all to the good that we've made a game out of them. I note where you are in the crowded reception area and make sure I cross the room in your view. My dress is silver silk and I wear matching jewelry that flashes in the lighting. I am a lure for the eyes of all the men in the room, but especially for you. As I move, the dress flows around me, cooling me a little. I find the hall I'm supposed to go down and then the stairway up. I pass couples making furtive love in the darker corners of the old building and smile. There are a lot of stairs, so I must be near the top of the building and as I enter the room I'm supposed to be in, I see that's true.

The room is large and furnished with comfortable antiques. There's a stone balcony through French doors that overlooks a wide lawn, and our valley. I can see houses in the distance windows winking as they reflect the warm sun. The balcony is where I'm supposed to be. I find a table there with a black silk scarf, and a note. I follow my new instructions to slip my shoes off and to use the silk to blindfold myself and to wait, standing with my back to the door. I do so, sad to lose the view, but getting more excited, more wet, for you.

I listen. The soiree is in full swing now; conversation and music floats up in muted snatches. The old building creaks and moans and a light breeze has been blowing for a bit when I hear the door open and shut. "Master?" I ask but you--is it you? There is no reply. Hands move over me, warming wherever they touch--my neck, my lips-drawing a quick kiss-down over my silk-covered breasts and then up and under my short hem. I can't hold my moans in as you draw your finger through my wetness. You draw the zipper down slowly and peel me out of my dress. I am naked now and the hands are now stroking my breasts, pulling on my nipples and I can feel myself flushing, feel my pussy warming. Then they are gone and I stand alone.

I hear something above me, but can't identify it. Then my hands are pulled forward and tied together. I hear the snap of a clip, and then feel them being pulled up, up, up--. I am stretched, standing on my tiptoes, my arms bound and pulled above my head. You--if it is you--still haven't said a word and I must know.
"M-master, please say something."
<SLAP!> I cry out. That wide flat pain--it had to be the paddle. <SLAP!> My other cheek erupts in fire.
"Silence," comes the hoarse whisper. Close, unidentifiable and with the faint smell of brandy and...Tobacco?

Fear runs through me. My master doesn't smoke! Has he given me to someone? Is this just a stranger or is it someone we know? I can't believe how excited this all makes me. Hands roughly maul my chest. This heavy presence in front of me slaps my tits, slaps my vagina and I'm moving so quickly between pleasure and pain that I'm nearly ready to come. Then a mouth on mine, liquor and tobacco flavor tongue forces itself into my mouth as fingers enter my wetness. The mouth comes away from mine and locks teeth on a nipple. Fingers thrust into my mouth taste of me. Then the presence is behind me, and I hear clothes, keys, belt, fall to the floor. A rough hand grabs me underneath and a finger sinks into my anus. I am so close to orgasm and nearly sure this isn't my master that I begin to think that perhaps I can let myself go and get away with it. I let out a regretful 'oh' as the finger is removed.

In the sudden quiet, I hear a faint buzzing intermittently. The heavy presence grunts and then <thwip!> <thwip!><thwip!> the sting of a riding crop lands on my chest, then moves down and up my thighs and finally strikes my yearning wetness just once. "Tell me you love this," he rasps. I obey. He moves the tip of the crop to my mouth, and I kiss it. Then I cry out as he lands a tattoo of strikes on my clitoris.

Then he is gone again and I am sobbing. I can't tell what he's doing, what implement he might be choosing, but the intermittent buzzing continues. Then his hands are on me again, this time not as roughly. He touches every bit of me, almost tenderly and my excitment builds anew. It's almost like a massage, the way his hands move up and down my stretched form, teasing my armpits and inner thighs with his mouth as well. He stands behind me and kneads my breasts, spreads my labia and makes me suck his fingers. He turns me around and slaps my ass freehand <SLAP> <SLAP> <SLAP> "Say it loud," he whispers, "Tell me you love being my slut, my whore, my little toy. Scream it for all the world to hear."
I obey and the sound echos off the stone walls. <Declare it loud>

Then, he pushes my thighs apart and all my weight is on my arms. I don't care because he is eating me out. His tongue--I can still 'feel' the tobacco on it--sucks and licks expertly. The longer he does it, the hotter I get, and the harder it is to endure the pain spreading from my arms to my shoulders and neck. When I can almost no longer endure it--he is gone again. I straighten up and try to regain my breath.

I almost fall when the rope slackens, releasing my arms. I'm pulled forward, out onto the balcony. I grasp hold of the stone railing feeling myself tremble. I think of all those houses I saw. Can they see me? The thought excites me even more. A hard cock pushes into my cunt and I nearly faint with excitement. His head is at my ear. "Make all the noise you want and cum hard," he whispers. Then he begins thrusting, deep and slow, with short bursts of hard and fast and I make all the noise I know how to. I'm nearly there, nearly ready to come, when you reveal yourself to me. "Oh, my slave," you say. "Are you enjoying the party?"
"Oh yes, master!" I cry out.
You pull my blindfold off and I see the houses again, see lights in the windows--see the party guests on the lawn, watching us, cheering and applauding. I come so hard, that I forget to ask. I am incandescent I am light.

When I can think again, we are on the floor of the balcony and I am laying in your lap as you stroke my face. I have questions and you answer them. The Cigarette smell: A quick puff, a few grains of tobacco for flavor, and clothes you left in the smoking salon. The Brandy: Well, unlike me, you didn't swallow.
So, when I was on display in the main hall on my way in: It wasn't just your appetite I was whetting?
Your phone buzzes with a text alert and you turn it off with a chuckle. I was very popular tonight, but he doesn’t want to share me anymore.
I tell you I will do whatever you want but you are feeling greedy. I'm grateful. You proved again why I am yours, and I just want to be with you.
 He tells me the next game is my choice, and says he can't wait to see what I come up with.
 I love our games, and I WILL surprise you." <kiss>