If You Only Knew
Original Erotica by Mistress Roulette
Is available in Mistress Roulette’s Free Erotica Section
26 September; 9:57a
Ahh. Coffee and kink. (Where did I leave off? Oh … yes. Right before the good stuff. Man, I am such an incurable tease!)
So. I pull the belt tight, enjoying the sound of leather-on-leather as it goes slack and taut in my hands. I wonder, briefly, if you were ever whipped as a child? Beaten with a leather belt? If you know how much it hurts against bare flesh. How long it stings, how you wish it would end, and when you’re sure you can’t take anymore, it keeps going, going, going until tears are pouring from your eyes, and whatever it is you did, you swear to anything that will listen to you that you won’t ever dare to do it again. And I wonder, will you have learned your lesson then? Will it be enough? Drawing the scissors back out, you’ve probably already figured out what I’d surprisingly failed to. You’re gonna be naked driving home. Were I able to somehow slide your boxers off without unbinding your feet, I might. But, I can’t, and such is life. And sometimes, especially as you’re learning tonight, life can really suck.
It’s nice to watch you cry. Cathartic. Secretly thrilling as I imagine your good-natured and loving girlfriend back at home, watching the clock with dinner ready, wondering where-oh-where is her saint of a boyfriend at this late hour? You don’t deserve her, you creep. Hitting on attractive young women — too young for you. You didn’t know what you had. You men; you’re all the same. Don’t know how to keep from fucking-up a good thing. Were it not for women like me who take it upon themselves to show you, you’d never learn. And you’re learning now, aren’t you? Each time that leather hits your reddening skin, oh, you’re learning. And I’m losing count. As much fun as it’d be to do this all night, that’s not everything. I like the marks it’s left behind, though. Even more, the private thought of how on earth you expect to explain them away to your lady-love. Good luck there, pal. You’re seriously going to need it. Long before I send this to you, you’re gonna have some ‘splainin’ to do. Wish I could be there to watch you squirm. Of course, that way you’re squirming now trying to escape the blows is good enough. For now.
And enough with the begging, already! Save your breath! You’re begging me to stop this? You don’t want to know what’s coming next.
Damn. And it looks like I’m going to have to save that for another day. You’re back early, and I don’t want to be around you right now. Not with the roll of duct tape and the scissors sitting on your desk in such close proximity. You’d better value my self-control and immeasurable willpower, because that, and the fact we’re not alone, is the only thing saving you right now.
But it won’t be for long.
27 September; 1:04p
I’ve pondered whether or not I can finish this today. I guess we’ll see. Depends on how long it takes you to eat your lunch, and how quickly I can write. I’m watching your lips. Your fingers, and you suck the sauce from your TV dinner off of them. If only you knew what you’re desperately wanting to suck right now in the confines of imagination. Not that you’d believe it if I told you. After all, what straight man knowingly and willingly begs to suck cock? Of course, compared to what else you could be doing, you realise at this point that it’s the lesser of the two evils.
So, where were we?
Oh, right. Your ass was beat red, and I was setting down your belt that I’d just beaten you with. For the moment. Studying your expression, tracing the lines your tears have left upon your face. Almost feeling a touch sorry for you — but only almost, and only a touch. Your head is hanging low, so I have to bring your chin up. You look mad as hell, but also pretty tired. You think you’re angry and exhausted now; but you have no idea. Remember, you wanted to fuck me. That’s not an offence to be taken lightly. And I know just how I’m going to do it, too. Your ass is already bare and exposed to me, so when I take a moment to gently stroke it, you’re relieved by the softness of my touch. I could slap it once you’re lulled into a sense of peace, but that would just be rude. Besides, this is your very short, deserved, break. You’ve been good so far, so I have to applaud you for that. The next part is the true test.
As a kind of gag, a girl-friend bought me a dildo, thinking I didn’t enjoy myself enough. I told her not to, that I really didn’t like them, but she sent it anyhow, and, surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. So, when I crouch down in front of you, holding it firmly in my hands and bringing it up to your face, I expect you to look at me as if I’ve gone insane. I somewhat have. Good job. Now, your choice is between this and more beating, and since you figure your ass can’t take it, (and those marks are going to be fun enough to explain to your loving girlfriend) you open up eventually, albeit with some reluctance. Have I got a camera hidden somewhere? But you’d never know, and you’re pretty sure I’d happily commence with the beating, which I would.
You’re a good little cocksucker, too, as I assumed you might be. Secretly, all your life, you’ve wanted this, but never had the balls to do anything about it. Honey, would you mind strapping on this dildo so that I can suck it like a little bitch? Right. But you are a little bitch; and that’s okay. Your secret is safe with me. For now. So long as you do a good job of making the cock good and wet. Of course, if you don’t it means little to me. I mean, it’s your ass it’s going into. Oh, that one gets your attention. You don’t think I’ve seen you sneak a look at porn back in your office? Really? I’ve seen how much you love it when the little slut takes the big cock up the ass. I’m sure you thought that’s what we were going to do. That, somehow, I was that kind of girl. Really, I knew all along that you were the little slut, and deep down, you wanted it up the ass and were just too scared to tell anyone. You know — for the usual reasons. Didn’t want to be thought of as gay, or some other ridiculousness when you’re hardly gay — just a pathetic little bitch who wants to take it up the ass. And if I wasn’t going to have so much fun fucking you, I’d probably have left it at that and just told everyone around the office. But only if you pissed me off, or I wouldn’t enjoy fucking you. (FYI: I always love fucking men who wish to do the same to women. Objectifying them, making them nothing but toys for our pleasure.)
Guess you missed the memo; hey, boss?
Now you’re begging, just like I knew you would. Jesus, you’re so predictable. Yes, yes, I know it’s huge, and your asshole is oh-so small, and blah-blah-blah. Like I really give a fuck. All I want to do is hear you scream when I shove it all in as soon as you’re least expecting it. That’s why I’m stroking your cock, silly. Nothing more than that. I know you don’t know this, and I’m definitely enjoying the secrecy. I know you’ll relax, and the second you do, in it goes. I just wish I was able to fuck you the right way, that I had a harness and the whole setup. But, really, I’m just happy to happen to have a dildo on hand. You’re loving my fingers around your cock, and Goddamn, you are hard. I knew you’d love this. Too bad I’m going to begin fucking you the second you’re thinking I’ve possibly switched tactics and decided I just want to give you a hand-job. (But, c’mon. I know you’re not stupid.) I’ll even count it down to when I do … in my head, that is.
Yeah, what did I tell you about the concrete walls? I didn’t know a man like that with balls as big as yours could scream at such high an octave. They must just be for show. I knew your mouth was as filthy as your ass no doubt is, but I’d never really imagined the creativity of which you were capable. I wonder if I’m fucking you too hard, if this could really do some sort of damage. Huh. After all, this is the first time I’ve deflowered a virgin ass — even as long as I’ve wanted to. Now, I’m grabbing your hair, too, which I love to do while I’m fucking someone, and you’re probably not sure which hurts worse.
God, I love the sound of your screaming.
I’m pulling harder, feeling strands come off in my hands, as I’m having to reach for more. I’m driving the dildo so hard into your ass that little folds of skin keep getting stuck to it as I’m ripping it back out. Hmmm. I guess you didn’t make it wet enough. I’ll bet that’s why you’re screaming, too. And though, ‘No! What the fuck? You psycho cunt!’ (at least, that’s what it sounded like you said), is not a satisfactory response to whether or not you’d like me to shove it back in your mouth so you can do a better job of lubing it up, I think it’s more fun to fuck you until it’s raw from the penetration. And just solve your little problem of being too vocal with more duct tape. There we are.
Ahhh. Now, there’s nothing but the calming sound of your muffled screaming, and the soft growl underneath. I twist it a few different ways to watch the effects it has on you, and your attempts to scream to the point of your voice breaking tells me what I needed to know.
That must’ve really hurt.
I leave it in your ass — way too deep for you to push it out on your own — and walk back around to where I can face you. Oh, yeah. Your face is so red; your eyes completely bloodshot, and that vein looks like your forehead is splitting in two. Not to mention how horribly you’re sweating. I think you’ve learned your lesson. Maybe. So, I delicately take my fingertips from the tip of your truly tortured brow down to the base of your chin.
You’re crying again. But it’s all right. I know you want that dildo out of your ass so badly, and to come, and to experience a number of things. But I can’t let you just yet, so I’ll just run my fingers through your drenched hair, whispering softly to you as I hold your heavy head and let you cry. It’s okay. Let it all out. Everything you’ve held in for so long. How pathetic and weak you really are. How much you’ve wanted this your entire life, for thirty-some-odd years. How no one’s ever understood, and they probably never will again. Cry for everything you wish you were and will never be.
Cry for the fear that you’ll never be the same again, because you won’t be.
But I’m here now to comfort you. So, cry.
One of these days, though … I swear you have to learn to take your entire lunch hour like a normal human being. But, no matter. You may be across from me now, again, asking me what I’m writing. And somewhere in the land of make-believe, I’m ripping the duct tape off of your face and cutting it from your wrists and ankles. You’ve been instructed to fuck your girlfriend like she’s never experienced you before. Worshipping every aspect of her beautiful female form, and accepting your place at her dainty feet. You are not to dare come until she’s had the most earth-shattering orgasm you could give her. On the off-chance she hasn’t enjoyed herself enough, you’re to suck and tongue her clit until it can be determined whether or not she’s among the multi-orgasmic. And you are to do this for the entirety of your relationship, no excuses, no questions, and absolutely no slacking. You know I could find you, and you never know where I might get the crazy idea to come and visit you again. Even if we aren’t working together, as, I suspect, after long we won’t be.
That’s why I had to make sure you learned your lesson now. And even if I haven’t, and I’m just sitting here writing out all of my kinky thoughts on paper, you never can be sure I won’t at some later date, long after you’ve forgotten about me and this. That’s when I’ll finally send this to you; and as you vacillate between sheer horror, and touching yourself every time you read it, over and over again, you’ll secretly, desperately wish I was there with you. Like I am right now.
And who knows? Maybe, when you least expect it, I will be.
But I don’t think you’re that lucky.
Finit
