A Burd in Flight

Wrote this on a whim, after a dream with the scene envisioned. I’d left the Jehovah’s Witnesses and my marriage to my middle-school-sweetheart just two years before. Finally I could explore who I truly wanted to be.

September 26, 2012

2:23 AM

I rapped on the apartment door, once then twice, our agreed signal. There was a nervous cough on the other side, and I drew myself up tall, a wicked grin in the corner of my mouth. I stood, my high-heeled boots tapping, impatient. She said she would be ready.

Locks slid, and the door opened, she smiled and dropped her gaze, gesturing me inside. I paused a bit before stepping forward, letting her anticipation grow, then strode forward, dropping my kit to her floor. She shut the door and I immediately took her by the shoulders, pressed my body against hers, gently throwing her into the closed door. Suddenly short of breath, excited, she lifted a leg, wound it around my hips. I looked down slowly, acknowledging her lack of self control.

(whispered) “This is the only time you will touch me until I tell you there may be more.” I whispered in her ear, as she quivered under my weight, waiting, her hands now clenched in fists at her side. Her mouth moved towards my neck, and I grabbed her chin, not believing her impudence, I pressed her face as far as I could away from mine, against the door behind her.

“Not one kiss from you either. Those are mine to give first.” I held her there, as she shivered, knees trying to buckle under mine, her breath short and desperate at my verbal commands. I let her stand there, pinned against her own door. After a moment I used my firm hand to turn her head so I could gaze deeply into her green eyes, letting her sink into my blue.

Her muscles softened, she yielded to me entirely, she handed me her will to do with as I pleased. A sigh escaped her lips, and her eyelids fluttered, never leaving mine.

(whisper) “Good girl.” I whispered, and shifted my knee to pin her between the legs, moving up until my stockings were wet beneath her damp panties, reveling in the excitement and teasing myself as much as I did her. I pressed my hand firmer into her chin, leaned my lips in, and began to devour the soft skin of her throat. The instant my mouth touched that sensitive skin she jumped, moaned, as if an electrode was hidden in the gentle tips of my tongue and lips. I nipped, scraped, and bit her neck with my teeth, soothing the pain with lashings of my tongue, licking out her groans, feeling her tremble against the door, shaking the locks.

My knee placed firmly against her pussy was now soaking wet, and if this wasn’t her first time with me I would have forced her to her knees with my hand twisted in her hair, and made her lick it up until I was satisfied.

I gave one last firm bite, rolling my jaws, settling my teeth deep into the skin of her throat, and she thrust her hips towards mine, eyes closed, mouth screaming a silent prayer for more, not breathing, just lost in her capture, lost in her pain.

An instant release, my hands and body away, I left her to compose herself, clinging to the doorknob, and I giggled to myself at what a simple push and neck tease could do. I looked her deeply in the eyes, noting her shortness of breath, and then turned, sweeping my eyes over her place, pleased she stood there trapped by desire, speechless for once. I watched from the corner of my eyes as she straightened her hair across the room, and acted like I didn’t see her tremble as I perused her bookshelves.

There was soft movement, tentative steps she thought I couldn’t hear, and I felt her warmth enter my presence. She stood close behind me, fingers twitching, I knew she wanted to touch my lovely ass, so I bent further over, showing her the bottom she was banned from touching, turning as I rose and arched my back so she could see my cleavage. Her eyes betrayed her, followed every deliberate move, looked exactly where I had plotted. I hid my smile and walked slowly towards the window, backing her up against it. She retreated, trapped by my decree of refusal of touch, afraid to break my command.

She clasped her hands behind her back, as if to control the impulse to touch, and I shook my head slowly, looking her sternly in the eyes. She brought her hands back to her sides, and I watched as her fingertips shook with the imposed mental control. I reached one hand forward, touched her pussy, damp through the cloth, surprised at how swollen and hot it was with such simple play. She jumped, grabbing the windowsill behind her, moaning and closing her eyes, trying to control her reactions yet failing. I smiled. No paddles or floggers needed tonight, though they were my favorites and I would miss the sting. This sweet girl was so tormented already that I could barely take seeing the pleading, hungry tears in her eyes. I did have SOME compassion after all, though not many were allowed to enjoy it.

Pity. I took pity in her hunger. I reached up, loosened my straps, and let my dress fall to the ground, naked except for my stockings and heeled boots. She blinked, quivering all over now, and as I undressed her, stroking each new inch of revealed skin, kissing her curves, and telling her what a good girl she had been, how beautiful she was to me, tears began to stream down her cheeks. Tears of desperation, obedience, desire, gratitude.

I took her hand, led her to the bed, and had her stand, dripping wet from her eyes, dripping wet from her beauteous pussy, as I slowly turned back the covers, then laid her down beneath me, wiping her tears away with my loosened hair. She still trembled, her fingertips not daring to disobey. I kissed her deeply, pressing my breasts into her own, my sodden excitement mixing with hers below.

(sigh) “Okay.” I sighed into her ear, “You’ve been such a good girl.” I looked into and through her eyes, losing myself in her own despair.

“Now…………………touch me.”