I had just arrived home from shopping, picking up a few things for the little one to take one vacation. Heron, the man who owns my mind, body, and soul, had been waiting patiently for me to return.
Once the kids were settled, He locked the upstairs bedroom door and turned to me, telling me not to bother removing my clothes. I looked sheepishly but left the tank top and skirt that tightly clung to my body.
Ushering me to the side of the bed, he stood behind me, kissing my neck and sliding the straps of the tank top down my arms, pushing it down enough to expose my tits. He continued kissing along my neck while playing with my nipples, which quickly turned to pinching.
It caught me by surprise when his tenderness changed in a moment. I found myself face down on the bed with my arms held behind me. He tied my arms behind my back and then pulled me up pressing my back against his chest. Kissing my neck again, he slipped the ball gag over my head. My mind raced wondering what he would do to that would warrant the need for a gag.
He pushed my face back down into the bed, yanked up my skirt and slid my panties down. With my feet still on the floor, he forced my legs to spread wider and slapped at my exposed pussy several times with a blue plastic ruler. It wasn't long before I felt the warmth of His hardness filling me from behind. Every couple of strokes of his cock were accompanied by a few smacks on my ass with the very same ruler.
I was in pure bliss until he grabbed a fistful of my hair and brought me up to an upright position. He continued moving in and out, but now his hand gripped my throat, while his other hand brought the ruler down across my tits Now I knew why the gag was necessary. I whimpered and cried out but he was relentless again and again, he pushed me face first in the bed, only to drag me up again to torture my nipples, sometimes using the ruler and sometimes using the thin whippy rubber flogger.
Eventually, he pushed me all the way up on the bed. On my back with my lower body hanging just off the side of the bed, arms still fixed behind my body rendering me completely helpless, he continued to thrust into me. Standing over me, he alternated the flogger over my nipples. Every time I wanted to cry out but the gag only muffled my sound.
He used the clothes that had now become bundled around my waist to gain better leverage, pulling me onto his cock harder and faster.
Yanking the gag down so that it hung around my neck, he asked, "Who owns you?".
"You do.", I whispered.
My answer is met with a sharp smack across the cheek. It was just enough to get my attention and I quickly corrected myself.
"You do, Sir."
He acknowledged my answer with a "good girl" but also that my body had given something away. He knew just how much I enjoyed being "man-handled" in this way.
The look in his eyes was so intense, primal even, as he pulled me up and close to him. With one hand supporting the back of my neck and the other around my throat, our eyes were fixed, connecting on a level that I can't quite put into words.
All I knows is that he owns me completely and nothing in this world could make me more happy.
