Start Making a Masochist at the beginning, get a refresher with Part III, or jump right in.
I squeeze my eyes shut as Ian’s tongue connects with my center, meandering in enticing circles through my folds. With my body primed from a day of so many firsts, he’s only three licks in when my traitorous cunt begins to pulse. I attempt to squirm away, but Ian simply digs his fingers deeper into my thighs and holds tight.
It doesn’t take long to get me to the edge. I’m gasping in deep breaths, pulling my hair to the point of pain, but the ache of my scalp does nothing but increase my body’s desire to climax. With teeth gritted together and my thighs quaking with the need for release, mercifully, Ian stops. My entire body goes limp, the evidence of my exertion coating my skin.
“Again,” Ian says, and I have less than a second to brace myself before his tongue is repeating its former course.
I lose count of how many times Ian edges me using only his tongue, but by the time he’s through, tears are streaming from my eyes, and I can’t tell if I’m more frustrated and angry or desperately wonton. Scratch that, the wanton side is winning — by a long shot. Before Ian, had this been any other guy, in any other situation, I would have taken control, riding him hard, long into the night. This is Ian though, my Sir, so I don’t. But I’m not above begging for what I want or feel I need.
“Please, Sir, please, may I come?” The voice sounds like me, but the desperate tone of my plea does not. In one afternoon, that’s burned into evening, Ian has effectively reduced me to a whimpering mess. His proud grin says he’s noticed too.
“You already came, dirty girl. Hard. Remember the mess you made?” His smile widens and heat rushes to my cheeks. We both know, just like missing class, that coming was not my fault, not really. But I don’t have the chance to reply because he’s placing a clamp on my left nipple. It’s then I remember the set on the table during his tortuous ginger plug scene and that he didn’t finish my earlier punishment. He distracted me with the bath, making me temporarily forget that this was all part of his lesson.
As I’m still hissing out the pain of the first being tightened, he’s clamping the right. The frigid chain connecting them laying between my breasts, reflecting dull light.
“I could let you redeem yourself,” he says, holding his chin and tapping a finger on his bottom lip, like he’s deep in thought. He’s not kidding anyone. We both know he already has a plan, and likely it won’t end with me coming. But I can hope.
His other hand slowly drifts to where his mouth just was, and I’m almost embarrassed by how easily two, then three fingers slide inside me. Usually, penetration isn’t a guaranteed orgasm, but I’m so sensitive that the smallest amount of friction is holding me at a precipice.
“Maybe there’s something you could do for me to earn it?” Ian asks, an eyebrow cocked. I should know it’s a trick, but did I mention being desperately wanton? His lazily thrusting fingers are doing little to remedy that.
“Anything, Sir. Please!” I say instead of thinking about what I’m agreeing to.
“Anything?” He asks, with an expression that says he is a cat, and I am looking very much like a canary. “With an offer like that, I need to think on it. Can’t be too hasty,” his voice fades to a dark chuckle, and I know I’ll come to regret my rash response.
Ian pumps his digits slow, then fast, hard, then soft. There’s no rhythm, but it doesn’t matter. I’m so wound up he could probably blow on me to get me to come. Like he can read my thoughts, he does just that, and the contrast of cooling air colliding with my heated flesh has my legs vibrating again. I squeeze my eyes tight and then open them wide, my mouth forming a perfect “O” as Ian pulls the chain that holds the clamps with a jarring yank. Pain shoots through my breasts, not stopping until it’s settled in my core. I’m unsure if the sound I emit is a groan or a moan. Either way, it ends in a cry.
“Eyes open, slut. I told you, it’ll help you concentrate. Breathe.”
I focus on Ian, kneeling at the foot of my bed, naked as the day he was born. His cock is no longer limp like it was before the bath, and it rises, like it’s reaching for me as he watches me control my body to give into his demands. I take no small amount of pleasure in that. I look back at his hooded eyes, dragging in careful, steady breaths.
“Well done. Now let’s try it again.”
With measured strokes, he curves his fingers, guiding them over the spongy flesh that maps my g-spot. Ian’s eyes stay focused on mine and his pace never falters as he pushes me higher, making my head spin.
Just when I think I’ve got control of the impending tsunami that threatens to burst, Ian lowers to his elbow and sucks my pearled button between his teeth, flicking it once with the tip of his tongue. My internal muscles flutter in warning that I’m a lost cause and I whimper, the sound pathetic even to my ears. Instead of pulling back, like I expect him to, he grasps the chain solidly in one hand, pushes harder into my core with the other and clamps my clit fiercely between his incisors.
The pain, the shock, and the pleasure roll together until I’m arching off the bed, back bowed. But the new position does nothing but give Ian better leverage on the chain, improved access to my clit. My breasts are pulled taught, the tips a darkening red. Stars float before my eyes, and I think I’m going to pass out and then… nothing. His mouth is gone, my cunt empty and vacant, but my nipples scream as blood rushes back to them. I grit against the flood of sensations that battle within me, writhing from the overload of endorphins.
Ian stands away from my bed, cock in hand, and strokes himself leisurely. “I’ve decided that I don’t want you to come until I say so, which will not be today.”
“Please, sir, please!” I plead, wincing at how desperate I sound. He laughs sadistically and shakes his head. Tears form in my eyes, and I stick out my bottom lip petulantly. Ian’s laugh transforms to a full-blown chuckle.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t. Open up.” And I’m so needy for his cock inside me, anywhere, that I do, with pleasure.
His cocks rasps over my tongue, not stopping until the tip nudges the back of my throat. With a hand on each side of my face, he fucks it thoroughly. Saliva drips from my chin as tears stream down my cheeks. I know I’m a complete mess, but he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world and for that alone, I will do almost anything he says.
I’m made aware that Ian’s not as impervious to our shenanigans as he makes out, because within minutes his load is washing down my throat, but he doesn’t step back until I’ve lapped him clean. I lick my lips seductively as I look up at him through my lashes. He grasps my chin, raising my eyes to his.
“You are such a good submissive. I’m very proud of how well you did today.”
Warm pride floods through me, making my limbs tingle and my head fuzzy. I know better but I can’t help but to ask with a cheeky smirk, “Does that mean I get to come?”
Ian just shakes his head and lies on the bed, patting the space beside him, silently telling me that’s where he wants me. “Yes, Savannah it does.”
When my eyes go round with excitement and shock, he continues, “just not today.” His cheeks dimple as he gives me a triumphant, arrogant and yet oh-so-sexy smile.
Instead of saying what I want to say, I lay down beside him, keeping my glare to myself. I don’t think my ass can handle any more swats today. Ian rubs my hair gently, aiding in the ease of adrenaline from an action-packed day. I’m still mad at him, but I can’t help but to enjoy this moment.
It’s only after 8 pm, but I’m exhausted. My eyes droop, and I hide a very unladylike yawn behind my hand. I must fall asleep because when I next open my eyes, Ian is pulling the comforter up to my chin and tucking me in. It feels odd as a grown woman, but also comforting, safe. I try not to think about it as my eyes drift closed. “See you Friday, slut,” he says, switching off the overhead light, “and don’t forget Savannah, no coming.”
Only three more days to go.
To be continued…
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For a sexy series similar to Making a Masochist, see The Librarian.
Header image for Making a Masochist Part IV found on shutterstock
Loved this episode Mrs k
May xx
Oh man, that Ian certainly is something. It’s a hot episode, MrsK 🙂