Smutty's One-shots

I was at the easel, covered in paint, when I got a text from Andy. “Be naked and in the playroom by the time I get home.”

Cheeky! He must have had a rough day at work.

Knowing my paints would probably dry before I had time to come back and work any further, I scraped my palette and gave it a hurried rinse as I cleaned my brushes in the sink. Thank goodness I had been working in acrylics!

I set everything out to dry, then quickly washed my hands before jogging down the hall to the playroom. I didn’t have time to shower, I surely only had minutes left.

I heard the front door opening as I flipped the light to our playroom on. Shit! I chucked my top on the floor and was in the middle of struggling out of my pants when I heard Andy come in. Damn! I fell to my knees, halfway out of my pants, turning beet red at having been disobedient.

Andy sighed. “I see you got my text. But you’re still wearing clothes. Why?”

A million words came jumbling through my mind, but I knew nothing would appease him. “I’m so sorry, Mast-“

He snorted. “-I asked you a question.” He stood still in front of me as I stared at his shoes.

I tried for my most diffident tone, “I was painting, and it took me too long to clean my brushes and my palette. Master.”

Andy grunted and started circling around me at a leisurely pace. “I see. Sounds like an honest mistake. Was it?”

A tiny fire of rebellion lit inside of me, and I couldn’t quell it. “I could have been faster, but I dawdled.” Not entirely true, it wasn’t entirely false either.

Andy stopped walking. He sounded irritated, “(Y/N), how am I to be addressed in this room? Refresh my memory.”

I suppressed a grin. He had noticed! “Master, Master.” I couldn’t help it, I snuck a glance up at him, smirking like the naughty thing I was.

He caught me, and I got a beautiful smile in response, before I looked back at his shoes. “Ah, I see! You’re feeling feisty today, are you?” His tone was jovial.

I opened my mouth to reply with something smart-assed, but he cut me off, “That was rhetorical. I’ve had a very, very bad day at work, and you just volunteered to let me take it out on you.” His voice took on a darker aspect, “Get your damned clothes off. Now.”

Excitement thrilled through me, along with a slight jolt of fear, as I shucked off my pants completely and removed my underthings. After I was nude and back kneeling on the floor, Andy started to circle me again, slowly. “(Y/N), you don’t have a single bruise on that lovely skin. Like a blank canvas of yours. I was just going to spank you, but I’m afraid you’ve been insolent. And you know that, don’t you?”

I nodded, but didn’t reply. Andy instantly got angry. “I said, you know that, don’t you?”

Again, I nodded, smiling to myself, but did not reply out loud. Andy sniffed in disgust and walked away from me to hang his coat up. “Get up! Go stand at the X-frame, keep your back to me.”

I saw him rolling up his sleeves as I went to stand at our Saint Andrew’s Cross and waited patiently. It had been made specifically for my dimensions.

As I kept my face to the saltire, I heard Andy stepping up behind me, then kneeling. I spread my legs so he could attach the cuffs to my ankles. Next, he attached the manacles to my wrists where I held them above my head. I was starting to get aroused at his rough handling, but then he left.

I heard him calling to me from over near the toy rack, “Honey, I’m afraid you’ve forfeited a super fluffy warm up. I’ll flog you a bit first, but today, you’re getting the single tail.” A bit of dread formed in the ball of my stomach, and I remembered our safe word, ‘watermelon.’

I heard Andy approaching behind me, and I steeled myself for the first blow. None came immediately. Instead, I felt Andy gripping, pinching my ass and the backs of my thighs. His deep voice came from above my head. “I like watching your skin turn red. It’s a beautiful color on you.”

I heard him back up a bit, then felt the tickling tease as he trailed the multi-tailed flogger over my shoulders and flicked my sides lightly with it, spinning it to and fro. It felt delicious.

Suddenly, there was a sharp sting as he struck out, the tails hitting my side and wrapping around my stomach. I panted as he matched it with another blow to my other side, then went under-handed to smack between my legs, the tails curling to hit my sex. “Uhn!”

Andy walked up closer to me; I could feel his warmth against my sensitized skin. He gripped my asscheeks again, molding them forcefully. “You were very disrespectful. But now you want to make me happy, be a good girl, don’t you?”

I didn’t hesitate, “Yes, Master.”

He released his hold on my behind, but still sounded pissed, “Good, but not good enough, not yet. You really did earn this, sweetie.”

He backed away and I started when I felt a rain of rhythmic blows on my back begin, alternating between my right and left sides. Every time, the initial sting seemed almost too painful, but it morphed to a throbbing sort of delight as my endorphins began to kick in. I just wanted to please him, please my Master.

Andy stopped, then teased me a bit with the flogger, brushing the handle between my legs. “Tell me how you’re feeling, (Y/N).”

I grinned, “Good, Master, good!”

Andy didn’t reply verbally, though he did squeeze my ass in his hand like it was trying to get away from him. His touch was so sure, so confident. When I felt him walk away from behind me, I missed him immediately, and struggled a bit in my bindings.

Andy laughed. “No, no, we mustn’t have that! Hold still and be good, honey.”

I quieted, my back still lightly throbbing, and listened as I heard him put the flogger away. I felt excited, proud, and scared. I knew he was getting out the single tail.

Andy came nearer again, and let the whip slide over my tender back. I couldn’t help but tremble. When it reached my ass, he paused. “Here, I think.”

I only had a moment to prepare myself before the stinging blow landed on my left cheek, making me jump and shout out loud! Ow! Before I had settled, he struck me again across the right one! “Uhnn!”

I felt Andy running his fingertips over the fiery, painful marks. “I think you need another, matching set.”

I cried out again as Andy struck me twice, making my bottom burn! Each time the whip found me, I thought, surely, this was far too excruciating to be a good idea, that it hurt too much. But once he was gently running the whip over the newly forming welts, I changed my mind. I wanted to please him, and it hurt so much I felt like a new person. I shimmied against the Cross, agitated and aroused.

Andy chuckled lowly at me. “I think you need a set of wings, honey.”

I didn’t have time to follow what he meant before I felt the whip come down on my left shoulder blade. I had a moment to gasp before he struck me again on my right. I started to feel weak, malleable, intoxicated by my own swirling brain.

Andy was chortling merrily. “Look at you, being so good.” He came up behind me again, and gently rubbed my sore bottom, then kissed my back. “I think you need someone to rub some lotion on those, don’t you?”

I hadn’t realized I had teared up from the pain until that moment, and I just sniffled and nodded, too discombobulated to coordinate a verbal answer. Andy bent to undo my ankles, then stretched to free my wrists.

Finally free, I turned to him and melted into his open arms. His soft, comforting tone was all I could hear, “Come on, there we go, that’s a good girl…”

He guided me so I was lying face-down on the bed, then started talking to me in soothing tones as he rubbed dollops of lotion into my back and behind. “I saw how hard you were trying for me, I can see you want to be good. And you are my good girl, aren’t you?”

I nodded, the tears now drying as I let myself enjoy the feel of his big hands on my raw flesh. It tingled. He was so sweet to me, so good, I didn’t deserve such a nice Master!

I was vaguely conscious of him sliding his fingers between my legs, checking to see if I was wet. Of course I was. “I see you liked that. How would you like to be an extra-good girl?”

I forced myself to sit up and nod, my hair disheveled. As I knelt on the bed, I watched Andy undress. He was already hard, and his fine, lean torso called out for my worship. “Please, Master,” I opened my mouth as an invitation, but realized I had been presumptuous when I saw Andy go to the drawer to get a condom, and I shut it.

I didn’t want to have sex, being on my back right now would hurt, but I was willing to do it for him. I gritted my teeth as I laid back down on the bed and spread my legs.

Andy gently coaxed me back up. “No, no, no! I want to see the view. I want you to ride me. Scoot over.”

Happy, and somewhere, deep on the inside, knowing that Andy was looking out for my comfort, I sprang up and gave Andy room to lie down. Checking to make sure the condom was in place, I crawled over him shyly, positioning myself over him so he could direct his cock into my slit.

I waited for his nod before easing back onto him, loving the feeling, the penetration. I started a decent pace, wanting, more than anything, to give him his pleasure, to have him cum because of enjoyment of me.

He grinned as he reached for my nipples, pinched them between his thumbs and pointer fingers, and twisted outwards. It stung, and my breath hitched as he held them that way. The pain felt like it blossomed out from where he was clamping, like a warm heat that suffused my chest as I continued to move over him.

When Andy released my nipples, they throbbed, and I was momentarily distracted from my rhythm. He took my pause as a sign that I needed encouragement, and I felt him wrap his hand in my messy ponytail and tug, hard, forcing my head backwards and making my back arch.

It was too much, his intense, cobalt gaze on me, his natural control of me, the way he felt inside of me… The strain in my midsection grew, my tempo got harder and erratic, as I got dangerously close to release.

At last, as Andy gripped one of my breasts with his spare hand, tweaking my nipple, I felt myself start to take off into another, glorious space. My body cannonballed through the universe, my brain almost dissolved as a climax ripped through me, tearing a loud moan out of my mouth.

But one drive remained; I could never forget. I had to please Andy. So, somehow, I kept moving, even as I came, even as I felt myself closing around him. It drew my orgasm out even longer, and I broke out in a fine sheen of sweat from the overstimulation.

All I cared for was pleasuring Andy, showing him how good I was, making him happy. I let the deluges of sensation wash over me, but didn’t stop, refused to stop, even as my poor backside began to ache.

Finally, I saw the spark of telltale fire in Andy’s eyes, he was close. He growled and released my hair, grabbing my hips and squeezing as I rode him, desperate to see him cum. A few more thrusts, and then he groaned, loud and low, his brows drawn together over his nose, his lips slightly parted, as his fingers dug into my skin. I worked myself over him slowly, wanting to extend his orgasm for as long as possible.

When he was completely finished, I waited for his signal to let myself collapse onto his wide shoulders, into his welcoming arms.

Man! He needed to have bad days at work more often!

Notes

It's all about aftercare, guys!

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