Perhaps this ……
Her wrists were bound to the front legs of the bench and her legs were secured with a steel spreader that was chained to the back. The audience watched from the dark seating area, far enough away to give the privacy necessary but close enough to hear her breathing and see the sweat form on the small of her back. The cane left distinct red lines across her ass and thighs. He prided himself on his ability to evenly mark his babygirl creating an artistic pattern of continuity. She was floating. He watched her body go limp as her breathing was rapid and steady. He knew where her mind was. She was at peace. She was in heaven. He saw the depth of her subspace as he created on his canvass.
Or perhaps this …..
She came to bed. He was letting her stay up a bit later these days as she was still on a temporary hiatus from the drudgery of 9 to 5. He was mostly asleep though he could never fall completely asleep until she was finally in bed. He reached for her and the feel of her skin brought instant arousal. She started on her side as she normally did but he quickly repositioned her on her back. He reached between her legs and she instinctively spread them for him. His hand was aggressive. Her pussy belonged to him. The primal was alive and well. He knew how much she loves to give herself to him in that submissive way. She stays relatively wet most of the time and he didn’t hesitate to push in a finger, then two, with deliberate motion. He instructed her to hold and massage his cock. It immediately grew hard in her hand. His natural reaction and extreme hardness was something that had been a challenge over the last many years. She had a completely different effect on him. It wasn’t the touch, it was the connection.
Fucking her with his fingers, her reactions were immediate and her soaking pussy provided plenty of natural lubrication. He loved to feel her moisture and spread it all over her pussy and thighs. He spread her legs a bit more and began a rapid succession of smacks directly on her pussy. She moaned and semi-spoke that she’s never gotten pleasure from that activity until right then.
More fingering. He attacked her clit until the sensitivity was more than she could stand and he backed off heading further down to probe her asshole. She knows it is a favorite for him and she naturally opened up even more. The moisture from her pussy provided plenty of lubrication. He slid his middle finger in and watched her face. Her eyes were closed and she began to travel. He recognized she was going to that special place. His cock was rock hard and poked the side of her thigh as he continued to probe her ass while using the ball of his hand to aggressively massage her pussy and clit.
Her head turned into his chest and shoulder. She needed to feel that closeness; feel secure. And she was in that wonderful space.
“I’ve got you, doll baby. Let yourself go. My asshole, my pussy, Float.”
Several minutes passed as the intensity ebbed and flowed. Her moans and lack of response to various softly spoken works were indicative of her subspace. He was ecstatic because she was filled with physical and emotional joy and serenity.
Ultimately, her body went limp. His middle finger remained securely entrenched in her tightest hole. However he recognized the pressure was dramatically lighter than when he had begun. She drifted. She was sleeping. Fifteen minutes later, he slowly withdrew his finger and there was no muscular contraction on her part. Her turned her back to her side and held her until he heard the familiar purring of her sleep. He pulled away keeping one hand on her lower back as he settled himself. The hard on slowly subsided and he was reminded that it wasn’t always about the orgasm for him. His need had been met for now. He drifted off quickly as well.
The next morning, she had minimal recollection of coming down from the submissive “buzz” she loved so much. He just smiled and felt honor and pride in his baby girl.
One is fiction, one is true. Any idea which?