2 comments/ 8032 views/ 1 favorites Uncertainty By: arbenitre Such an uncertainty. The only thing that could surely be known ahead of time is that he will be pleased. Not just because he will do what he wants and he will fill his needs, but because she will do anything to make that come true. She will do what he asks and what he tells her to. She will be as willing and as wanting as she can and when she can't, he is always there to help her manage. When she panics, it's his voice that soothes her. When she is too afraid, it's his persistent gentleness that calms her. When she angers, it's his evenness that brings her back. He makes her feel the depths of her emotions. She's been molded, yet never felt pushed or pressed. Just given the way to go. Last week he whipped her as she sucked him. Made her cum so hard it hurt and all the next day, her entire body held a deep ache wherever muscle lay over bone. Two days ago he massaged her muscles until she finally stopped trying to reach him and tease him. The orgasms were gentle and many and she slept ever so sweetly the past two nights. It's always so different. Tonight, her hands were tied before she even reached for him. There's always a hesitation, not knowing what he will want and that gave him the time to grab her by the wrists and wrap them together. The large shirt she wears some nights -- and wore tonight - is unbuttoned and her tits want to bounce out. It's hiked above her thigh and she can feel an occasional breeze across her groin. She always feared being tied before him, and at first he would keep them loose until she could accept them. Now he just ties her and she accepts that he will keep her safe. It doesn't stop the reactions of her body. The nerve tingles and the fear shivers. The nostrils flaring and the eyes tearing. She tests the bindings on her hands. Sometimes she can pull them apart, there's a kind he uses that gives a little. Sometimes he uses the inflexible kind. Tonight, it's a silk robe tie. She knows from the experience of his neckties that silk tightens when she struggles so she stops. She feels a pang of terror knowing that that means she will surely be struggling. He wouldn't make it difficult if she wasn't meant to do it. She's had cause to wonder before if the headboard would hold her panicked rages, but it always has. She wriggled side to side just to see how much leeway he would give her. apparently, all she wants. She could swing freely either way, limited only by the point where her wrists met somewhere at the top of her outstretched arms. Her legs were another matter. They were stretched fully, even though she had tried to keep her knees bent a bit, he had tied and then retied her until they were stretched to the furthest outward reach. Her ankles strapped securely to the posts. They were held with the stretch binding, but it was wrapped so many times around that it was solid and immovable. "Are you through testing?" She stops. Her breathing does too. It's so hard to know what might come next and the times she thinks about it too much are the times she flies into a panic. Could she have imagined herself tied so tightly to the bed that she was open and vulnerable to anything? Would she have six months ago? There was a fantasy, to be sure and a moist heat that flared with the thought of it. But to actually feel it come true? Never! There's been pain. Little tingles and jolts mixed so thoroughly with the charges of bliss that she can't recognize it as either one. More than anything else he has made her feel. There has been fear. As now. A quaking in her thigh muscles that said if he wanted to swing the bob onto her clit, she would only hear, see and feel it. She would do nothing to stop or slow it but beg and scream. And cry when it strikes. Irrational as that seems when compared with the reality of him, she breathed in terror of a flick of the horse whip (bob, he called it). The smaller one (quirt) intrigued her and the broader one (crop) made her cringe. It was all so irrational. The broad leather of the crop felt so good on her ass. Like a paddle. Except that it looked evil to her and made her cringe involuntarily. She liked the feel the best of all three. The quirt, she loved the look of, but the slender strands of leather left strips of cut and raw skin if he got too excited. The bob he used for nothing more than tiny sharp snicks. She lived in terror of it. Of the day he would be driven to use it with wild abandon. He'd taken these out each in turn as she watched, tied so tightly she could do nothing else. Her eyes were drawn to them though she wished she could close them and turn out the sound of the drawer opening and closing. The rustling of the toys inside. The whistle of them as he hefted and tested. Did he do this just to cause her more anxiety? Probably. Did it matter? No. The result was the same whether he meant it or not. She wished he would turn her on her stomach. She felt so exposed this way. So vulnerable. He's mentioned spanking her clit and she thinks back to every mention of this now. Has he ever mentioned whipping it? It sounds agonizing. Like more pain than she can imagine feeling. She rolls the code around her mouth. The agreed on code that would free her. That would say to him that she couldn't go on. Her mouth is so dry she might not have enough spittle to push it past her lips. Her thighs quiver and she moans with the ache. He's finished at the drawer and his hands are smoothing her brow. His soothing tones lotion her ear. "You can cum as much as you want tonight. You did so good the other night I think you should be rewarded, don't you?" Her breath wouldn't come. When he spoke of reward or punishment, she no longer knew what he meant. She used to see these things as separate and means of behavior management. Now she had only the vaguest notion of what the words might mean to someone else. He'd told her this from the beginning. Made no secret of it. If she only believed then what she believed now. She'd actually almost scoffed at his theories about the opposing systems. Reward was obviously good and punishment obviously bad. He'd told her that the idea is that they are actually only continuums. That the idea for her training was to find the rewards and punishments that she would both crave and loathe. Seek and avoid. After the "orientation", she pushed all the theories aside. The sex was heaven. The games so exciting and consuming that she had soon ceased thinking about anything systemic at all. She certainly craved the rewards. When he would offer her a punishment, she found them so unthinkable that she would do anything to avoid them. For the first few times he would tie her and maintain her on the edge of orgasm until she finally would beg for release. She hadn't believed that of herself, but she did. The reward for that would be an orgasm so powerful that it would hurt with its intensity. He began to link these orgasms with rewards and the threat of not having them with punishment. Then he forced her to have one. In the throes of anxiety, he overrode her fears and forced her to cum. She couldn't stop it. Couldn't help it. She began to see how this wonderful new bliss could be both her hope and her despair. The next few times the rising tide brought with it a feeling of trepidation. Even as it threatened to engulf her -- and she's long since ceased trying to guess when he would finally allow her to cross that ledge - she would have a nagging doubt. Not just whether this would be the time he'd let her finish, but whether this would be the time he would introduce something new and punitive. Reward and punishment. Craving and avoidance. In equal measure for both. That's what he says he looks for. She could think of so many of each and for each of her fears or hopes, he had more or a twist of his own. She no longer knew what to expect and even when he told her, she had a hesitation. Was this part of it? She wondered. His hands moved to the back of her head and she moaned as her thighs shook again. The muscles felt her fear and presented it for him to see. His hands squeezed and pressed but she couldn't relax. Her body did without her and in spite of her. His hands were on her shoulders before she knew it. The sensation was taking her thoughts and slipping them out into a pile next to her pillow. "You don't have to hold it, okay?" She didn't realize that she hadn't answered him. She was virtually oblivious, drowning in a sea of sensation. His fingers were rippling across her breasts as she caught breath enough to respond. "Okay. Thank you. I want to cum. I want to cum with you inside me." "You can cum anytime. I won't make you hold it. I won't tell you to stop. Okay?" She wasn't sure what to say. She didn't know what he meant. She was sure that it meant something new because he'd never told her anything like this before, but she didn't know what this would bring. "Okay." "You sound unsure. Didn't I just give you all you wanted? Don't I give you what you want?" "Yes. You give me what I want." His hands were on her breasts. The nipples were hard and poking through his fingers. Her breasts felt full and heaving to her. His hands were steady and soothing. The bindings were tight and firm. She hoped she had sounded more sure of herself that time. The uncertainty of him gives her both anxiety and excitement. More excitement than she'd ever had and more anxiety than she ever wanted in a relationship. She could feel her juices flowing. She wasn't sure if she could cum. His hands were pushing and pulling the muscles to her sides. She could feel them giving in and relaxing beyond their normal state. She loved the massages. She would be limp for hours afterwards. Unless he brought her crashing back. That happened often. Then she would be limp for days after the hours of rebounded tension. All the uncertainty and contradictions. They drove her on. Fueled her to greater heights. It's both what she craves and wishes she could just leave. There were conflicting thoughts from the beginning. Contradictions and, above all else, need. She needed more from her life. She needed more from her partners. It was enough to get one who wasn't intimidated by her. To get one that saw her as something to mold and toy with was so very different that she was hooked from the beginning. With all the uncertainty and all the unknowing, there was something she knew. He would be pleased. His hands were on her hips. Knowing them and moving the muscles in a rhythm that closed her eyes for her. He was down her legs and on the way back up when the rhythm changed and the push and tug had an insistency. Her thighs, once shaking had long since calmed. Now they were being kneaded and pressed to accept blood flow. The adamancy of his fingers were reminding her of the way he would move her to orgasm and she could feel the flow increase without her conscious thought. At the top of her thighs, his fingers paused. She was completely conscious of her legs tied open and her completely exposed groin. Even as the thought moved across her mind, she could feel her lips puff and pouch apart. She felt a drizzle of fluid trickle out. A short time ago she would have been so completely self conscious that she would have felt a drying of her usually moist pussy. No. That's not right. It was only the first time. He touched her pussy lips and it was a jolt to her stomach. He pushed them apart and she felt the stir deep within. Something hard was pressing inside. Small but solid. She wished she would dry up as her mouth did, but she felt instead, the juices bursting forth. Of course he would introduce something new. Hadn't he said as much with just the statement that she could cum as much as she wanted? When the first wave of vibration hit her, she would have cum had it not been for the build up and the direction of her thoughts. He was at her ear, questioning. "You didn't cum. I told you you could, didn't I?" "Yes." She gasped. The sensations were so overwhelming that she couldn't have cum if she wanted to. "Didn't you believe me?" "Yes." She just gasped. The vibration was low but constant. Enough to make her cum, but not with all the distraction. "Don't you want to cum?" "Yes. I love the way you make me cum." This came out with a moan. It was true. She loved it. Not nearly as much as she used to cum. She was the (not Dominant, she knew that now) forceful one in all her relationships before. She was used to taking the lead and getting what she wanted. It was easy to make herself cum that way. She even felt fulfilled for the most part. Now she knew that for the sham it was. It wasn't fulfillment as she's come to know it. Her eyes had been half closed, but now she realized he was fingering the riding crop (bat, he called it). He held it out straight and down to her groin. She involuntarily tried to turn to the side but the bindings were too tight. She would have put her knee over her thigh if she could. His voice was overly calm in her ear. She always associated this with his most dangerous moods (dangerous as she's come to know it). As in pushing another boundary beyond her ability to have coped before. "Don't you want to cum? Do you want me to make you cum?" Her throat was too dry to answer. She tried twice before she croaked "yes". The crop was stroking her thigh. The vibrations were still low and constant but now her pussy was trying to dry. It just wasn't being allowed. Despite everything, it was still moist and wanting. She could just see his member throbbing at the edge of her vision. If he would just move closer, she would take it in her mouth. As though he knew her thoughts, it hovered near her lips. His fingers held her mouth down and slightly open as the head pushed across the opening. Her tongue flicked at it. The only thing she could reach it with. She felt the leather tap her clit before she knew what had happened. The moan of ecstasy (agony?) left her lips before she had any idea what she had felt. The thrum of the little motor had caused a continuous level of sensation and the added tap sent her mind spinning. Even as she felt it again, she had only just registered the first one as coming from the crop. A thrill of fear contracted her stomach at the same time a flood of juices left her pussy. She could feel them pooling under her ass and wished they wouldn't. She wished they wouldn't be so easy or so quick to go against her thoughts. He knew. Knew what she wanted by the way she reacted. Knew what she would take by the way her body showed it. She felt her pussy lips, swollen and glistening, grasping at want. Shameless in the action of taking his cock in and squeezing it even as the actual staff stood at attention and lay across her mouth. Another tap. Another moan of agony (ecstasy?). The taps were coming at intervals that just allowed her to feel all the repercussions and the echoes and yet not prepare for the next. Another. Another. The thrum seemed to invade her senses. Her hearing buzzed, her body hummed, her tongue drizzled, her vision blurred. Another tap. Another. There was a regularity and suddenly a wrenching flood. Her body began to shake and burst open and his cock shoved deep into her mouth. She screamed around the girth and felt it jerk with spasms. It pumped and her throat filled with cream. Another pump and it leaked out the corners of her lips with her muffled screams. Another, another, another. She could feel his muscles contracting and releasing in time with the spurts. Her own had just mingled with the vibrations and steadily continued until his began to subside. When her gasps ran down into sighs, the vibrator switched off and the lack of strumming made her moan. His cock was lengthening again and she flooded with the idea that now she would be fucked long and hard and it would be everything she hoped for. Uncertainty I was happily married, I'm sure I was, but there was always something missing. I knew it was something to do with our sex life, but quite what it was, I didn't know. Then the fantasies started. We'd been married for about five years, and had a good sex life, or so I thought, but there was something that wasn't quite right. I had this nagging feeling that I wasn't fully satisfying my beautiful and sexy wife. I had no wish to ruin my marriage, but I felt that I needed to explore this aspect of our sex life. I would have to risk it and ask her whether I was everything she wanted and needed sexually, or if I needed to change in some way. I kept putting it off. We were happy, why would I spoil it? Then the unthinkable happened. Steph was coming on to me, she'd got my trousers and briefs off, and she was gently stroking my cock, while fondling my balls. She was really good at hand jobs, and she never failed to arouse me and satisfy me, except this time. This time I couldn't get it up. It just languished, small, flaccid and useless. "What's the matter?" she asked, puzzled, but also a little accusatory. "I don't know, it's normally fine." I was really worried. "Don't you fancy me anymore?" Another accusation. "Of course I do, it's just..." "Just what?" "Can I ask you something?" "Of course, what is it?" "Would you say we have a good sex life?" I started in a low key way. "Yes, I think so, why?" She replied warily. "But am I good in bed?" I pressed. "Yes, of course, otherwise I wouldn't have married you." "But am I the best you've ever had?" I asked the really scary question, with my fingers tightly crossed behind my back. "What on earth is all this about?" Which was a good question, I had absolutely no idea, except that I thought our problem would turn out to be about sex. So I was asking her about sex. "Ah, so not the best then." "Ok, not the best, but pretty good." "I see. So, who was better, and in what way?" Why was I pursuing this? I must have been out of my tiny little mind! "This is crazy, I love you, I married you, there's more to our marriage than just sex you know! Why are you raising this now, has something happened?" "I've been having these fantasies, when we are having sex. If I think of the fantasy, I get a strong erection. I tried to stop thinking about the fantasies. You can see the result," I said, pointing at my non-erection. "Right, ok, so you should tell me about the fantasies. What do you fantasise about?" So here it was. I had backed myself into a corner, I had no choice but to tell her. "I imagine that we agree you should have sex with other men, as I'm not satisfying you." "Why on earth would you think that?" She asked incredulously. "Because I don't think I'm that good at sex, and I suspected you'd had better in the past." "That's just silly. I just told you that you are good in bed, didn't I?" "But you also said that I wasn't the best ever. Tell me the truth, have you imagined having sex with other guys, maybe previous lovers or men you see or meet now?" "Why are you doing this, it's crazy, you're creating a problem out of nothing." "I have to do this, the idea won't go away. Please answer my question." Did I really want an answer to that question? What if she said yes? "Ok, well, you asked for it! Yes, I have often thought about sex with other men, both previous lovers and when I meet dishy guys." Oh shit, now I was really in trouble, terrified I would lose her, with my cock making a bit of an embarrassing come back. "Because I'm not really much good in bed?" "Yes." "My cock isn't very big, is it?" "No, it's actually quite small." "The smallest you've ever had?" "Yes." "And I cum too quickly?" "The only thing you're really any good at is licking me to orgasm, but you don't do that often enough, and you never do it after you've squirted inside me, which is when I need it most." Oh shit! Why did I have to open this can of worms? Now what would we do? My cock may have been small, but had become as hard as a broom handle, but much smaller, of course. "Why on earth did you open this can of worms?" She echoed my thoughts precisely, "we were alright weren't we?" "No, I don't think we were. You were just pretending everything was ok, pretending to yourself as well as me." "I see." "Do you disagree?" "No." "So why did you marry me?" "Because I loved you, I still love you. I had been in a couple of disastrous relationships, great sex, but otherwise disastrous, and knowing that I was in love with you, and you with me, I thought the sex wasn't important, and we would be ok." "And what do you think now?" "I think I was probably wrong." "The thing is Steph, what do we do now?" "I still love you, and I don't want to lose you." "I don't want to lose you either, but we can't put this back in the box. We have to change something." "Ok, I have a suggestion." "Good, carry on," I suggested with a first glimmer of hope, "I'll try anything." "Well, why don't you promise to lick me to orgasm whenever I want, and always after you've squirted into my pussy? Then I will be getting lots more orgasms and will hopefully be satisfied." "Ok, I could do that, how often would I need to lick you, other than when we have sex?" "I suppose every day is out of the question?" "Every day!" "I used to have sex every day with my other boyfriends, just because you only want it once every two or three weeks, doesn't make that normal." "That's fine, it's ok, I'll lick you to orgasm every day, and when I've fucked you I'll lick you out, ok?" "Yes, excellent, just one thing. When you fuck me, then lick me out, that doesn't count as my daily orgasm. I'll be extra horny, and need another orgasm later in the day, or maybe two the next day, ok?" "Good grief! Oh well, I guess I agree to that, if you're sure it's what you want. When shall we start?" "No time like the present. Down boy!" My sexy wife slipped off her jeans and panties and dropped back into an armchair, she spread her legs and draped them over the two arms of the chair, and then picked up the remote for the TV. "What do you need that for?" "I'm going to watch E! while you get me warmed up. If you get me really excited I'll pause the TV." "Oh, right." I got onto my knees in front of her, parted her legs, and gazed at her moistening pussy. I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful. She placed a gentle loving hand on the top of my head. "Take your time, I want to really enjoy this." Her hand became slightly less loving, and slightly more insistent, pushing gently down, making her need clear. I allowed myself to be pushed down and pulled in towards the glistening honey pot. As I was drawn closer, I started to smell her arousal. It was a musky, heady scent which was hypnotic and intoxicating, and at that precise moment I felt as though I was approaching my personal heaven. I paused when I was so close to her centre that my tongue would be able to reach her clit, I could lick her lips. I breathed in her scent and savoured the moment. "Are you teasing me?" "No, just enjoying the anticipation." "Really, isn't that supposed to be my line?" I didn't answer, I just moved closer and planted a little exploratory kiss on the hood covering her clitoris. "Hmm, that's nice, don't stop." I placed my outstretched tongue on the bridge between her pussy and her arse, and dragged it languorously all the way up to her clitoris where I flickered my tongue over her engorging bud before sliding down between her dampening lips. This time I didn't stop at the bridge but carried on to the musk scented valley of her anus. My tongue centred in on her secret rose bud entrance and licked over and around it. "That's so good darling, I love you licking me there." I reached my hand up and found hers, giving it a little squeeze of love, which she responded to by squeezing back as she pressed gently on the top of my head with her other hand. I understood the message, she loved me but she loved me even more when I was licking her pussy and arse. My wonderful woman let go of my right hand and a second later the TV went silent. Her hand left my head and she relaxed back. I continued visiting the stations of her arousal, clitoris, lips, bridge, anus, spending increasing amounts of time on her protruding bud. Her pussy was lubricating profusely and the fragrance had become sexual, her juice was slightly sticky and salty, and reminded me of oysters. I adore oysters and I was adoring my wife's arousal juice, spreading it to all of her sex and into the valley of her arse. Her sensitive bottom no longer had a scent of it's own, but shared the fragrance of her sex. Her anus was still virgin territory, the cute wrinkled entrance dark and forbidding. I was determined to breach this reluctant passage and after an extended period of licking at that closed gate I stiffened my tongue and pushed hard, pressing for entry, pressing repeatedly until my efforts were rewarded by a small entry of the tip of my tongue into her rear passage. I pressed on until half of my tongue was buried inside her rectum. I wiggled it around inside her surrendered passage, and I was rewarded by a reaction. "Oh God, that feels so good Rob, please keep doing it a bit longer." I obeyed happily, pushing in even further, moving my tongue around in the darkness, receiving appreciative moans throughout my exploration. "Make me cum now darling, just do my clit, I'm ready." I pulled out my tongue, pulling it into my mouth and swishing it clean with a mixture of my saliva and her juice. I swallowed, then stuck my tongue out and headed directly towards her neglected bud. I lapped at her clitoris rapidly, driving her rapidly towards her climax. "That's it my darling, keep doing that, I'm going to cum soon, don't stop. Now! I'm cumming now! Oh yes! Oh God, Aarrhhh!" Her contractions continued for quite a while, eventually winding down as my beloved wife relaxed. I knelt in front of her, watching her pleasure, feeling content and satisfied. She smiled at me. "That was very good my love, the best you've ever done. That's the standard you need to achieve every time. I especially loved your tongue in my arse, it's such an unselfish thing for you to do for me. Did you enjoy pleasing me?" "I loved it my darling. If I satisfy you like that frequently can you be content with me as your lover?" I prayed that the answer would be yes. "Yes, I think so my love. So long as you do it often and well, and you keep me convinced that you love pleasing me like that." "That will be easy my darling, as I adore pleasing you, and it will be wonderful to stop worrying that I'm going to lose you to a better lover." "Good, I don't want you worrying. You must promise me that you will worship me with your tongue whenever I ask." "Yes my love, I promise, but please don't ask me, tell me. I will always obey your instructions." "Are you asking me to dominate you a little? Does that idea turn you on?" "Yes my love, it does, very much. I'm sorry if that's a little kinky, is it too kinky?" "I think it's a good kinky, let's try it for a while and see how it goes." "I would like that, thank you." "Let's make a start. Are you really horny now?" "Yes my love." "Then drop your trousers and panties and wank yourself off for me. Catch it all in your hand, and lick it all clean. Will you do that for me?" "Yes my love, I will obey you." I squirted in a couple of minutes, looking into my Goddesses eyes the entire time. I filled my hand with white sticky goo, and when I stopped my spasms I raised my hand to my lips and started licking. "Lick slowly, relish the taste, savour the humiliation, bask in the joy of submission to me." I hated the taste of my own emission, but I couldn't have been happier.