Imagine a room – a bedroom – your bedroom – to be specific. The light is dim from candles placed in groups around the perimeter. Small, luminous pools spill from them. The resulting flicker of light and shadow caresses all that it touches. The walls are dark. The fabrics are supple and varied in texture. In the center of the room is a waist-high table upon which I kneel – knees wide, back arched, cheek on the table, arms reaching underneath my body, hands resting featherlike on my thighs, completely naked, hair tumbling off of the edge of the table, so that not even my face is hidden, my half closed eyes revealing tranquility, submission, anticipation and longing simultaneously.
You enter and I feel your presence as much as I hear your step causing a tremor to course through me, followed by a secret moistening, as always in your presence. You approach the center of the room and circle the table, touching me only with your eyes. It sends chills down my spine. You then begin to inspect and explore my body – trailing a finger down my spine, stroking the curve of my stomach with the back of a hand, lifting my breasts one after the other to feel their weight, grasping a nipple between thumb and forefinger, kneading it, pinching it, toying with it until it hardens under your touch, lightly slapping my breasts to see how they sway, noting the slight coloration, pinching my buttocks to test the resilience of my skin; all the while watching my face color, my eyes flutter closed at your glance and hearing the sighs and subtle gasps that are a result of your touch.
You instruct me to remove my arms from between my legs and place them above my head, hands clasping wrists. I comply. You step behind me, widening my legs, arching my back even more severely so that I am completely open to you, completely vulnerable. With one finger you trace my thigh and cup my pubis in your hand, squeezing gently. You remove your hand and open my lips, pinching them, tugging on them, feeling their smoothness and watching the wetness that is a result of your touch. You continue to explore me, pinching my clit, stroking me to see how I will respond, sliding your fingers inside to get a feel for my depth. Without meaning to I find myself moving against your hands.
You withdraw and walk around to the top of the table where you wrap your hand up in my hair and use it to maneuver me into a sitting position – back straight, hands clasped behind my back so that my breasts are forced out. You place a finger under my chin and tell me to look you in the eyes. I find it difficult and you begin to slap my breasts, one and then the other until I comply. You stare into me, which I find more disconcerting than your physical inspection because I know what you will see in my depths – longing, desire, fear and fascination.
You push my chin up higher, so that I am looking straight up and I see a hook above me, hanging from the ceiling. You tell me to grasp it and not let go. From your pocket you retrieve a device, a short leather handle with twenty or so medium length leather strips. You begin in the front, covering my thighs, stomach, pubis, and breasts with repeated lashes. It is an effective tool because it both stings and caresses as the leather forms to and wraps around my limbs and leaves me with a base coat of color – a warm pink sheen to my skin. I gasp and struggle a bit, which only increases your enjoyment. You continue this teasing lash around the back, covering my thighs, calves and buttocks. My skin burns warmly.
From a small drawer in the table you pull out a thin, flexible paddle and begin to spank me with long, hard strokes. The first tears seep out of my eyes and I struggle to avoid the impact, but I never let go of the hook. Part of me wants this so badly, needs it so much that I feel relief as much as I feel the pain. When I dare to look at you I see such an intoxicating glitter in your eyes that through the pain I begin to feel aroused. You stop the spanking suddenly and reach between my legs and are pleased with the moisture you find there. You pinch my lips together and give them a gentle pat.
Next you order me off of the table, onto my knees and then holding my hair like reins direct me over to the bed. You sit down and then pull me over your lap. Your left hand holds my wrists together, arms straight out in front of me. I can feel your cock pressing against my abdomen. And then you begin to spank me, hard and fast, with your bare hand. My struggles are futile. My buttocks and thighs are flaming red and crisscrossed with small, white welts from the paddle. Tears stream down my face but whether they are from the pain, the humiliation or the bone deep relief I cannot tell, but you know which and continue spanking me until I think I cannot take it anymore and beyond that point – the spanks coming sometimes hard and fast like rain and other times slow and deliberate.
You force me to my knees and stand before me, commanding me to remove your belt with my teeth. I comply, my reddened, tear streaked face eager to obey. I unbutton your pants as you remove your shirt and in an instant you are standing, gloriously naked, in front of me. I look away, not because I want to, but because you have not told me I could look at you. With your fingertips you turn my face up and towards you. I stare up at you in wonderment, inhaling the scent of you. It is like nothing I have ever experienced, something foreign, yet familiar, as if I have known that scent always without realizing it. You are beautiful and erect, with a drop of liquid just beginning to seep out. Without thinking, asking or being told my tongue darts out to capture it – I cannot resist. Your hand quickly moves to the back of my head and you plunge yourself into my mouth – knowing full well the distress, the potential pain this may cause my untrained throat. Tears stream down my face, but I do not resist. This is what I have been wanting. You release my head but motion for me to continue. I wrap my arms around your hips and continue to lick, suck and nibble on your cock as it grows ever harder in my mouth. My strokes become longer, harder, faster. I revel in the taste of you and as you explode in my mouth I cling to you as if I am anchored there by some force beyond my will. I gently lick every last drop off of you and bury my face into your warm flesh, but that will not suffice. You force me to look at you so that you can see the complete satisfaction and utter surrender in my eyes and so that I can see the unquenched desire in yours.
You lie on the bed and tell me to kneel over you and look up. I do so and see yet another hook hanging from the ceiling. This one hangs lower than the other. I grasp the hook and you wrap an arm around each of my thighs and pull me lower and lower until my pussy is directly in front of your face, my body stretched taut before you. From this position you see my pubis, the curve of my stomach and my breasts. You open my lips with your fingers and slowly run your tongue the length of me, swirling it up into me – your first taste. As you begin to lick and probe with your tongue your fingers find the welts on my buttocks and squeeze them, eliciting moans in response. Your mouth finds my ever hardening clit and nips at it with teeth and lips. Meanwhile one of your hands parts me even further so that you can reach into me, stroking me in time with your licks. I struggle against you at first, not knowing exactly what you want of me, but with your every touch I let go of my resistance more and more until I give in to you, to the pain of your fingers on my welts and to the pleasure of your tongue and lips. I begin to rock against you, the pleasure building to a point beyond which I have no control. My entire body stiffens as tiny shockwaves of pleasure begin to build one upon the other until they are so strong that a gush of liquid squirts out of me, onto your waiting face and open mouth. The moment my body starts to relax you kneel up before me, closing your mouth onto mine to absorb my cries as you impale me over and over until we collapse against one another, spent, your arms around me, hands entwined in my hair, my hands still grasping the hook above your bed.
I know that this is just the first of many encounters… a beginning … a test…an education and I am overwhelmed.
Find the audio version at: http://evaamoretales.tumblr.com/post/53616169570/education-begins-find-the-original-text-at
You enter and I feel your presence as much as I hear your step causing a tremor to course through me, followed by a secret moistening, as always in your presence. You approach the center of the room and circle the table, touching me only with your eyes. It sends chills down my spine. You then begin to inspect and explore my body – trailing a finger down my spine, stroking the curve of my stomach with the back of a hand, lifting my breasts one after the other to feel their weight, grasping a nipple between thumb and forefinger, kneading it, pinching it, toying with it until it hardens under your touch, lightly slapping my breasts to see how they sway, noting the slight coloration, pinching my buttocks to test the resilience of my skin; all the while watching my face color, my eyes flutter closed at your glance and hearing the sighs and subtle gasps that are a result of your touch.
You instruct me to remove my arms from between my legs and place them above my head, hands clasping wrists. I comply. You step behind me, widening my legs, arching my back even more severely so that I am completely open to you, completely vulnerable. With one finger you trace my thigh and cup my pubis in your hand, squeezing gently. You remove your hand and open my lips, pinching them, tugging on them, feeling their smoothness and watching the wetness that is a result of your touch. You continue to explore me, pinching my clit, stroking me to see how I will respond, sliding your fingers inside to get a feel for my depth. Without meaning to I find myself moving against your hands.
You withdraw and walk around to the top of the table where you wrap your hand up in my hair and use it to maneuver me into a sitting position – back straight, hands clasped behind my back so that my breasts are forced out. You place a finger under my chin and tell me to look you in the eyes. I find it difficult and you begin to slap my breasts, one and then the other until I comply. You stare into me, which I find more disconcerting than your physical inspection because I know what you will see in my depths – longing, desire, fear and fascination.
You push my chin up higher, so that I am looking straight up and I see a hook above me, hanging from the ceiling. You tell me to grasp it and not let go. From your pocket you retrieve a device, a short leather handle with twenty or so medium length leather strips. You begin in the front, covering my thighs, stomach, pubis, and breasts with repeated lashes. It is an effective tool because it both stings and caresses as the leather forms to and wraps around my limbs and leaves me with a base coat of color – a warm pink sheen to my skin. I gasp and struggle a bit, which only increases your enjoyment. You continue this teasing lash around the back, covering my thighs, calves and buttocks. My skin burns warmly.
From a small drawer in the table you pull out a thin, flexible paddle and begin to spank me with long, hard strokes. The first tears seep out of my eyes and I struggle to avoid the impact, but I never let go of the hook. Part of me wants this so badly, needs it so much that I feel relief as much as I feel the pain. When I dare to look at you I see such an intoxicating glitter in your eyes that through the pain I begin to feel aroused. You stop the spanking suddenly and reach between my legs and are pleased with the moisture you find there. You pinch my lips together and give them a gentle pat.
Next you order me off of the table, onto my knees and then holding my hair like reins direct me over to the bed. You sit down and then pull me over your lap. Your left hand holds my wrists together, arms straight out in front of me. I can feel your cock pressing against my abdomen. And then you begin to spank me, hard and fast, with your bare hand. My struggles are futile. My buttocks and thighs are flaming red and crisscrossed with small, white welts from the paddle. Tears stream down my face but whether they are from the pain, the humiliation or the bone deep relief I cannot tell, but you know which and continue spanking me until I think I cannot take it anymore and beyond that point – the spanks coming sometimes hard and fast like rain and other times slow and deliberate.
You force me to my knees and stand before me, commanding me to remove your belt with my teeth. I comply, my reddened, tear streaked face eager to obey. I unbutton your pants as you remove your shirt and in an instant you are standing, gloriously naked, in front of me. I look away, not because I want to, but because you have not told me I could look at you. With your fingertips you turn my face up and towards you. I stare up at you in wonderment, inhaling the scent of you. It is like nothing I have ever experienced, something foreign, yet familiar, as if I have known that scent always without realizing it. You are beautiful and erect, with a drop of liquid just beginning to seep out. Without thinking, asking or being told my tongue darts out to capture it – I cannot resist. Your hand quickly moves to the back of my head and you plunge yourself into my mouth – knowing full well the distress, the potential pain this may cause my untrained throat. Tears stream down my face, but I do not resist. This is what I have been wanting. You release my head but motion for me to continue. I wrap my arms around your hips and continue to lick, suck and nibble on your cock as it grows ever harder in my mouth. My strokes become longer, harder, faster. I revel in the taste of you and as you explode in my mouth I cling to you as if I am anchored there by some force beyond my will. I gently lick every last drop off of you and bury my face into your warm flesh, but that will not suffice. You force me to look at you so that you can see the complete satisfaction and utter surrender in my eyes and so that I can see the unquenched desire in yours.
You lie on the bed and tell me to kneel over you and look up. I do so and see yet another hook hanging from the ceiling. This one hangs lower than the other. I grasp the hook and you wrap an arm around each of my thighs and pull me lower and lower until my pussy is directly in front of your face, my body stretched taut before you. From this position you see my pubis, the curve of my stomach and my breasts. You open my lips with your fingers and slowly run your tongue the length of me, swirling it up into me – your first taste. As you begin to lick and probe with your tongue your fingers find the welts on my buttocks and squeeze them, eliciting moans in response. Your mouth finds my ever hardening clit and nips at it with teeth and lips. Meanwhile one of your hands parts me even further so that you can reach into me, stroking me in time with your licks. I struggle against you at first, not knowing exactly what you want of me, but with your every touch I let go of my resistance more and more until I give in to you, to the pain of your fingers on my welts and to the pleasure of your tongue and lips. I begin to rock against you, the pleasure building to a point beyond which I have no control. My entire body stiffens as tiny shockwaves of pleasure begin to build one upon the other until they are so strong that a gush of liquid squirts out of me, onto your waiting face and open mouth. The moment my body starts to relax you kneel up before me, closing your mouth onto mine to absorb my cries as you impale me over and over until we collapse against one another, spent, your arms around me, hands entwined in my hair, my hands still grasping the hook above your bed.
I know that this is just the first of many encounters… a beginning … a test…an education and I am overwhelmed.
Find the audio version at: http://evaamoretales.tumblr.com/post/53616169570/education-begins-find-the-original-text-at
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