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The last time with E



Photo: Anothertriptothecity

I was surprised at hearing the bell. I had not been expecting
any visitors. I was even more surprised to see who it was.
I was still using my friend’s flat in Islington at the
time (he was still away and it served as a perfect base for
me whilst I was setting up my business) so I thought it might
be a neighbour delivering some mail, perhaps not realising
the owner was away. It couldn’t be door-to-door sales
or charity; it was too late for that. It was neither of those,
it was E (although it took me a moment longer than it should
have to recognise her).

E had reinvented her look. Her copper hair (which some might
have bluntly called ‘ginger’) was now dyed a deep cherry
or dark burgundy that appeared practically black in the
dim light of the hallway (even her eyebrows had been dyed),
and the beautiful mid-back length had been cut short into
an angry bob of wavy messy curls that barely reached as low
as her chin, giving her face a depth and severity. I might
not have recognised her had we passed in the street or she
not brought herself straight to my door. She had lost a degree
or two of innocence from her look (perhaps fittingly) but
it was no less sexy.

After hesitating for a few seconds I said, “It’s Thursday.
Aren’t you busy tonight? We’re not supposed to meet
until tomorrow.”

“I wanted to come tonight. Is that OK?”

We had never stopped talking by email since we last met.
So, when I was due back in London I let her know I was coming.
She was also down to visit friends and family, so we planned
a hook-up, but this would be the last time I would meet with
E. She had told me that she was going to patch things up with
the ‘on-off’ boyfriend that she had parted with just
before she had met me for that first time. (Despite knowing
this I felt no shame seeing her again. She had told me that
he was sleeping with plenty of other girls, and if she felt
in anyway promised to him having made this decision then
our meeting would be on her conscience only).

“I will no longer be your little cumslut. So I want to come
over for one last time to serve as a slave to my Master”
she’d said in an email to me. I presumed she called herself
‘cumslut’ and me ‘master’ with a sense of playful
endearment, but we’d not played a master/slave relationship
yet or even talked about it. But our chemistry was good –
actually it was fantastic – this arrangement was an experiment.
An opportunity to create a safe, fun, sexually no-holds-barred
environment to play in. We were offering ourselves to each
other to explore, and crucially support, each other’s
sexual fantasies. So I played along.

E was indeed keen to crank up the kink on our play-date up
from a little light bondage to something that would, in
her words, “make a porn-star blush”. She really wanted
to get into her deeply submissive side, and as a somewhat
sexually dominant person myself, I was happy to oblige.
She sent me a list of things she wanted to do along with a few
photos that illustrated those kinks. We got ourselves
into character by email; she the timid devoted sex-slave,
me her master telling her what I expected of her and demanding
various photos of her pleasuring herself (which she took
to with great gusto). Later we chatted on Skype and indulged
in a little cyber with me barking orders as she played with
her collections of toys and making her spank herself for
coming too soon. E and I were already very trusting in each
other, but this night like the last two would be well planned.
While accepting the loss of a certain degree of excitement
that comes with spontaneity the agreement between E and
I was to explore each other’s fantasies, as faithfully
to their original specifics as possible. With no surprises
or shocks allowed and boundaries to be clearly defined
we spent one more evening going through the motions on Skype
– a rehearsal for the real thing (this was a role-play
scene we were taking part in NOT an evolved BDSM relationship)
– and when the evening was close I sent her an email:


I’m looking forward to seeing you on Friday. These are
your instructions.

I will be at the address you met me before. You will arrive
punctually at 9pm and bring with you your bag of toys - I’ll
make sure we have some rope to restrain you with. Upon arrival
you will remove all of your clothes, as I will have no need
for them, and show your willingness to serve by not rising
from your knees.

The rules for you will be simple.

- You must attempt to maintain eye contact at all times.
Slaves must not be distracted from the task at hand.

- You may only speak when you are spoken to. This prevents
too much thinking by the slave.

- You will only have permission to climax when I allow it.

I will be paying extremely close attention to the rules
and may add new ones as we go if the fancy takes me. If you break
any of the rules, or fail to meet my requests or very clear
instructions, or misbehave, then you will be punished
in a manner of my choosing. If I punish you, you are to count
out loud and apologise after each strike in the manner “1.
Sorry Master. 2. Sorry Master. 3. Sorry Master...” And
if I spank you for my own pleasure you are to thank me and request
another. When I tell you that we are going to do something
new, you are to say “yes please” and nothing more (anything
superfluous to this will be met with punishment).

Safety: If you feel at any point that we approach a boundary,
“orange”, and that we have passed a boundary, “red”.
If at any point your hands become cold or numb from the binding
then you must inform me immediately.

Reply ‘yes’ if you understand. Be ready for a long night.


She replied, ‘yes’.

But she had arrived a day early. “Is it OK?” she asked.
Of course it was, but she had caught me on the back-foot.
No surprises huh?! After gathering myself from the surprise
of her visit I got myself into character.

“A good Slave arrives when they are asked to. Not early.
I ought to tell you to sleep outside in the hall.” (I might
have laughed at myself saying this if we hadn’t have been
working up to it and had we not had the cyber-sex the other
evening. I only just about retained a straight face).

“Oh but Master, let me stay. I’ll be a good girl” she
pleaded as she dropped slowly to her knees in front of me
looking straight up at me with her doe-eyes. “I’ll
do anything for my Master. Anything.”

It took will the strength of a pope to resist pulling out
my dick there and then. The excitement of her arrival and
her incredibly erotic lowering to her knees had got me as
hard as stone faster than I knew was possible, and now here
she was, her face inches from the bulge in my jeans, looking
up at me and biting her lip.

“You’ll be punished for arriving early. And what are
you still doing clothed? You ought to know the rules by now.
When you’re here to please your master you have no need
for silly clothes. Take them off right away. You’ll also
be punished for being asked to do so. Do you understand Slave?”

“Yes Master”

It was February and it was cold outside, so E was wearing
more than a few layers under a lightweight parka. Regardless,
she did the whole strip expertly from her knees at my feet,
not once losing eye-contact. After her parka that slid
clumsily from her shoulders to the floor off came a wool
jumper and a button shirt that seemed to take an eternity
to remove. And then, delicately, her bra, revealing her
brilliant perky breasts of which I was immensely fond.
When she came to her jeans, she stood, turned from me and
slowly bent at her waist, presenting to me the perfect outline
of her pert bottom as she lowered her hands to unzip her boots.
One, and two they were off. Upright she unbuttoned her jeans
and again, slower this time, she bent at her waist to inch
her jeans down to her feet. One, and two, and her feet were
out of her jeans. Back upright, time for her panties. Glancing
over her shoulder to meet my eyes with hers and giving a slight
arch to her back so that her bottom was pushed out she tucked
her thumbs into the sides of her panties and began to lower
them to the cleft of her buttocks. For the last time she bent
over and daintily guided her panties to her feet, presenting
her perfect backside, ass and smooth lips to me. E returned
to her knees in front of me. She kept her socks on.

“What now Master?” E dutifully asked as she knelled
there naked and subservient. With her back straight and
firm breasts pushed forwards towards me every aspect of
this girl’s body language said take me I’m yours. Her
milky white skin was entirely unblemished and reminded
me of her youth and the half decade I had on her.

“Do you have your toys in your bag? Show me Slave.”

E had a fairly large hand bag with her that must have been
enough for a few days worth of spare undies and the toys she
had been ordered to bring. She opened the bag wide in front
of me displaying her Hitachi Magic Wand and a rather deluxe
looking glass dildo. I closed the bag, put the arm loops
over her head and ordered E to crawl to the living-room with
the bag hanging from her neck. In controlled, slow fashion
she did as she was told, dropping her hip almost to the floor
with each step swaying her backside from side to side seductively
as she made her way forward. This was not a crawl like a baby
might, she was prowling effortlessly and purposely across
the floor like a panther testing my every fibre not to pounce
on her.

I was gone to fetch my contributions to the scene when I realised
that we had not even greeted each other and I already had
her naked. I met her in the living-room where she was obediently
waiting for me on her knees. With character temporarily
dropped I gave E a quick but firm kiss on the lips and leaned
in to whisper in her ear “oh, and ‘hi’ by the way. It
seems we forgot that bit” before immediately returning
to character, “I think we should start with your punishments
don’t you? I’m sure you understand naughty girls get
all tied up?”

She wiped the surprise and smile from her face (that surprise
didn’t make us quite even quite yet) and responded sternly,
“yes Master”.

In our early emails E had sent me a photo of a girl bound in
rope on her knees with her master’s erect penis in her
face. “I want to be bound like that!” she told me. So
far we’d only played with binding her wrists, and at that
time I had never bound anyone else either - the complexity
of this binding initially daunted me. I agreed that it would
be enormously fun and fitting for my Master to tie her Slave
so I set about learning the bind. I discovered it was called
by shibari practitioners ‘takate-kote’, or, ‘box-tie’,
and was considered relatively simple. I had spent a whole
day with a ball of string and an artist’s mannequin drilling
the sequence into my head, and now, a day earlier than originally
agreed, I was going to be doing it for real on my slave for
the night. I was excited to be finally playing with ropes,
though that was initially dampened by the worry that I’d
make a mistake.


Photo: sexandsubmission Editing: Unknown

I needn’t have worried. The god’s were on my side and,
while it took several minutes, wrapping E like a parcel
it was easier than I had been expecting.

With E obediently on her knees I took the hemp rope and directed
her to look forward and hold her forearms parallel to one
another behind her back. Drawing the lark’s head of the
rope up between her arms and her back I wrapped and bound
her forearms tight to one another – E was already wonderfully
incapacitated by this one tie and the sensation of power
over her was frighteningly intoxicating. Wrapping her
torso twice above her breasts I took pride over the neatness
of the binding and locked the first wrap-around off and
removed the slack. After completing two cinches under
the armpits and over the shoulder (as in the picture E had
sent me) I added two more wraps this time below her breasts,
cinched them and secured and tied off the rope at the back.
Shibari aficionados would have probably scoffed at my
amateurish efforts, but I was proud. It looked fantastic
and E was not getting free without my help. (She was also
not so tightly bound she’d go blue! Also note we had already
agreed on safe words and I had a decent knife on stand-by
just in case).

E bound like a prisoner I lifted her to her feet with the knot
at her back and marched her to the edge of the sofa where I
bent her, buttocks in the air, over the left arm, submitting
her backside for a thorough spanking. In the position she
was in she could not prop herself up with her elbows, so could
only rest a proportion of her weight on the side of her face
that she held sideways, looking outwards from the sofa.
(Admittedly speaking from the point of view of a bottom
fancier, there a few times that a woman looks more adorable
than when she is positioned to be spanked). In this position
bound and with her feet slightly off the ground E was entirely
vulnerable to me.

Standing at the front of the sofa I firmly gripped E’s
left hip with my right hand and applied a subtle weight with
my forearm and elbow along her back and bound forearms to
prevent any squirming.

“Naughty girls are spanked. What would be suitable punishment
for you today Slave?” (The reality of it was that a spanking
was a delight for E. This was less a ‘punishment’ and
more a ‘treat’, but I was very happy to indulge her).
“Let me see. Leaving for another master. Arriving when
not prescribed. And needing to be told to undress. That’s
three sets of five spanks. Oh, and an extra spank for every
week you’ve not seen me.” (It had been four weeks) “That
makes nineteen spanks today. Let’s round that up to twenty.
Wouldn’t you agree Slave?”

“Yes Master.”

“Tha - ?”

“Tha-nk you Master”

“Very good Slave. Now I hope you remember the rules. I
expect you to count out loud and say ‘sorry Master’
after each and every strike. Let’s practice.” Suddenly
and without warning I gave her a modest but sharp slap on
her bottom with my left palm. She yelped with more surprise
I suspect than sensation... “And you say... ?”

“One. Sorry Master.”

“Excellent! That was the practice spank. The next spank
is the real number one. Are you ready Slave?”

“Yes Master!” she blurted. I sniggered at her infectious
enthusiasm which she caught triggering an involuntary
giggle from herself which was caught short by –


“One. Sorry Master.”


“Two. Sorry Master.”


“Three. Sorry Master.”

And so it continued. I alternated my target buttock after
every other strike to ensure equal blushing and varied
the time between strikes to catch E out and ensure my palm
met with a nice relaxed, bouncing bottom, rather than one
that was in anyway clenched.

I followed the seventh spank on from number six without
switching and at such speed E hadn’t finished “six.
Sorry Master” which because of the sudden follow-up
ended in a high-pitched (but delightful) “squeeee!”
which required her to catch her breath before the obligatory
“seven. Sorry Master!”

Eight and nine occurred on the other cheek without incident
and ten returned to the previous cheek that had received
numbers five, six and seven to a shrill “oweeee! TEN!”
and a squirm that nearly unseated E and sent her tumbling
over the front of the sofa had I not firmly held her in place.

“Ten - ?”


That cheek was now looking decidedly rosy and a few shades
darker that its sister. I almost felt guilty for placing
number eleven in the same spot. Almost.



Numbers twelve and thirteen where sent with a sufficient
twist of my torso that ought to even out the redness across
E’s glowing cheeks and were received with barely coherent
‘sorry masters’ in between loud screams and sobs -
the sort that only occur in that faint boundary where pain
and pleasure overlap.

Fourteen and Fifteen were kinder spanks that allowed E
to catch her breath. Her buttocks we so bright now they could
have lit a dim room. “Are you learning your lesson Slave?”

“Yes Master. Thank you Master.”

“Still five more spanks to go Slave, but I need to be sure
you’ve learnt your lesson. I think it’s time I move
to the belt.”

Peering up from her squashed sideways position she met
my gaze as I removed the belt from my jeans and positioned
myself further back for the slightly wider swing that would
come with the added length of the belt. From this position
I wouldn’t be able to hold her down, but she had more room
to recoil from the spanks.

I doubled the belt in half, holding the buckle in my hand,
and lazily swung at her buttocks. It landed centrally and
the fleshiest point and across both cheeks. Despite the
relaxed arm I gave the swing even I was stunned by the crack
of the leather meeting flesh.

“YOW! SIXTEEN! SORRY MASTER!” E yelped at a volume
that should have been audible in all five floors of the block.

A pause followed before seventeen to allow E to catch her
breath, and slowly, with a pause each time for slight recovery,
seventeen followed with eighteen, nineteen and twenty
shortly after to a chorus of howls and ‘sorry masters’
from E.

Tossing my belt away I took E by the knot at her back and brought
her onto the sofa so that her torso was now horizontal and
supported by the other sofa arm below the front of her shoulders.
I took the Hitachi from her bag and plugged it in nearby and
laid out her glass dildo beside lubes and a glass of red wine
I had brought in with me.

Encouraging E to arch her back as much as she could to turn
up her pretty rear, and parting her legs so that her left
knee was forced into the crux of the sofa’s seat and her
right on the edge E’s pink vulva stuck out between two
strikingly red and mottled butt cheeks. The crease was
gently loosening to reveal already a faint glistening
which caught the light with every slight movement of her
hips. E strained her neck to look over her right shoulder
back at me and maintain the eye contact that was promised
in her slave’s contract. Her mouth was slightly open
still heavily drawing breath from her spanking, or panting
with heightened anticipation.

At times the games we play to tease are just as cruel to the
teaser as to the teased and I yearned for a taste. Taking
my tongue drew circles around E’s fluff-free labium
taking in her wonderfully famine scent and taste. Pausing
at her perineum I drew downwards with the faintest of touches
through the creek of her womanhood to her clit to E’s first
gasp of delight. Once more and a third time with enough pressure
to squeeze my tongue between her lips before dancing on
and around her clitoris for the satisfaction of the applause,
the rhythm of her hips thrusts, and lifting of her right
heel to my groin that happened to be positioned directly
above it to keep her in place.

Knelt behind her I took the Magic Wand. “Master would
like Slave to gush for him now. Does that sound good to you
Slave? Now, remember, just like we practiced, no coming
until I let you. OK?”

“Yes Master”

I flicked the switch on the wand at it buzzed to life. Reaching
around her hips I ran laps up and down her belly letting the
vibrations tease her breasts and her clit from afar. I decided
to start with her breasts. E had fairly sensitive nipples
and she immediately began twisting and turning in a futile
attempt to remove the drumming from the apex. “Fuck”
she muttered every time I brought my play back to their centre.
With her hands tied behind her, there was little she could
do to prevent me having fun at her expense.

Deciding she’d had enough I returned my attention to
her abdomen where I gently massaged her mons, and eventually
brought it back around behind her and began to press it against
her clit. A frustrated wriggle and thrust as her back arched
even more than I thought possible brought her clit out of
the shelter between her legs and directly to the vibrating
dome to an immediate and involuntary sigh of satisfaction.
She held herself, hips thrust back into the wand for a decent
twenty seconds before releasing herself of the pressure.
Generously for a short while I let E control her own pressure
and position against the wand which I held steadily behind
her until her sighs turned from satisfaction to blissful

Removing the Hitachi I reminded E not to climax without
permission to which she promised she wouldn’t, closed
her eyes and rolled her head back as she thanked a deity when
I continued to stimulate. Pursuing her clit with the Wand
I continued to tease and pleasure her until E was fighting
back an orgasm with fits of bucks, kicks, sighs and screams
that one in the next apartment might assume was related
to discomfort and pain if it were not for the occasional
laughter from the both of us that punctuated it.

Some minutes in and after a rousing “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
STOP! FUCK!” and animal noises E thrust herself forwards
with a kick back that almost caught my face had I not successfully
dodged it. E was arriving at a strong orgasm. Another minute
of the Hitachi firm against her clit had E scream her way
through the scales as the muscles in her whole body clenched
and unclenched in unison in a deep spasm that practically
alternated her between folding her in the middle and flatting
out to a plank in waves that moved up and down her. A pinnacle
was reached and marked by a sudden set of convulsions over
her entire body and a gasp that ran out of sound and rolled
into a silent scream and deep inhale from the base of her
diaphragm. It was the most massive climax I had ever witnessed
and her gentle pale complexion became mottled with flashes
of pink red from her head down to her toes.

“Did I tell you you could come already Slave?”

“No Master. Sorry Master” E managed speak in between

I gave her one quick spank.

“One. Sorry Master”

“One’s enough. I want to play with you some more.”

“Yes please Master. Thank you Master” (E’s disciplined
responses were exemplary).

Giving E a few moments for her sensitivity to wane I took
the glass dildo and began to warm it in my hands. It looked
expensive. Its handle, which was solid glass but with suspended
silver glitter, resembled a love heart about one inch from
top to bottom. The rest of the dildo measured more than six
inches and began with a flat hilt above the heart-shaped
handle which led to the largest of three bulbs, the middle
marginally smaller than the one before it, and the last
(the head) likewise. The head was slightly less spherical
than the others and tapering to a blunt point (which aesthetically,
though not explicitly, resembled the head of a penis).
I thought that it looked rather like the glass-blower had
intended to create a large chess pawn but it had gone wrong
at a critical stage.

Taking one of my lubes I drizzled a little onto my hand and
began to gently rub it into the area around her labia and,
with an extra squeeze, directly between her parted lips.
After reminding E that she should ask before having her
next orgasm and adding generous application of lube to
the dildo I began to tease her opening with the tip to shudders
and groans of ecstasy above. With very little pressure
her pussy greedily gobbled the head and after just two or
three gentle backwards and forwards the second bulb too.
Using her moans as my guide I repeatedly thrust the dildo
in and out of E’s vagina, slowly, gently to begin, but
as she loosened up and took the full six inches to the handle,
more vigorously. Within moments she was back on the brink
and pleading to come which I granted with incredible satisfaction.

By now so much blood had made it below my waistline that I
was just short of tearing through the front of my jeans.
“I will be having my way to you now” I told E. I left the
glass dildo still in her up to the hilt as I very carefully
helped her down the floor and onto her knees. She was still
sighing and moaning from the last orgasm and radiated heat
to from every inch of skin. Taking the glass of wine I had
brought in for myself I took a long sip. “Are you thirsty
yet Slave? Would you like some wine too?”

“Yes please Master”

“Well then you have to be a good slave to your master. You’re
going to pleasure me now. I’m going to use you to my satisfaction
roughly and thoroughly. If I am satisfied with your efforts
then you may get some wine.”

Undoing my jeans I removed my fully engorged cock. On her
knees E’s head was squarely at my waist level and with
the tip of my member just millimetres from her face she opened
her mouth and took me in. Without her hands to support herself
against my legs E would have struggled to stay stable, so
with a wide stance I placed my hands gently on her shoulders
and held her steady. Expertly she worked me with the tongue
and her mouth sending dopamine coursing to my brain. As
my head lolled and my eyeballs rolled back in their sockets
all thoughts vaporised and became intently focused on
the sheer bliss between my legs. For minutes she eagerly
licked and sucked giving the sort of pleasure men fight
for as I took my turn to sigh and moan exclamations of ecstasy.

I stopped her short of finishing me off. The addictive thrill
of dominance overcame my drive for rapid gratification.
Our discussions and previous encounters had made clear
one of her deepest pleasures came from a rough fucking which
I fully intended to do. I took the wine and had another gulp,
brought it to her mouth and slowly let her sip from the brim
as I tilted it into her mouth faster and faster. As the tilt
of wine exceeded her ability to drink it it began to slosh
out at the edges over her chin and down her chest. I kept pouring
until the entire remain of the glass had been poured over
her. I put the empty glass to the side and dropped a cushion
to the floor. After removing my jeans pushed E’s head
down to the cushion so that, with her arms still tied behind
her, she knelt in a ‘come fuck me’ manner and I positioned
myself behind her with cock resting in the groove between
each spread cheek. E rolled and gyrated her hips beckoning
me into her whilst sighing and moaning. Below in her pussy
the glass dildo still resided fully inserted, the little
heart-shaped handle sparkling up at me as I looked down.

With anal lube I gently prepared E’s asshole while the
head of my penis pressed against her perineum. A gasp and
sharp inhale as I protrude first a well lubed finger and
started to loosen her up with a light finger fuck. I could
feel tension subside as the muscles relaxed and E’s moans
began again to sound ecstatic. With generous lube applied
I introduced my penis to her anus and let it slowly squeeze
in. Initially just the tip, and after several gentle backwards
and forwards, inserting the full length. With one slightly
vigorous thrust E whelped and held back a scream by biting
down on the cushion under her head. I reined back my enthusiasm
and fell into a slow rhythm that quickly gathered pace once
I could feel her opening up to me.

E loved anal and her cries of enjoyment where never louder
than that night. Gradually as confidence grew pace increased
and my thrusts magnified strength and intensity as I clutched
at the ropes on her back to bring myself forcefully into
her. Losing it in the moment I worked through her mechanically
pounding the flesh before me, my eyes held firmly closed,
my jaw clenched, drifting away into the cacophony of her
audible euphoria, until, amidst a kaleidoscope of sensation
I came deeply and explosively within her.

After withdrawing I took my breath, removed the dildo and
untied E. Moving to a spoon I cradled her in my arms on the
floor and whispered “I love your new hair” into her
ear from behind. “Thanks” she giggled back in between
breaths. I could feel her smile. “I think I’m going
to miss this”.


Photo: spankaway (reddit) Editing: Anothertriptothecity

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Apologies for the formatting folks. I haven't a clue
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l quite enjoyed the story, thanks