Written by Nay

BDSM
25 May 2017


I’m on all fours on the bed. My legs spread wide as I can. I’m facing away from you. My breathing is shallow. I feel exposed, a little scared and very excited. As ordered I am naked. I’m embarrassed by the fact that with me spread out like this with my face away from you, you can see and probably smell my arousal. I collapse my arms so that I’m in the ‘face down, arse up’ position and I hear your approving chuckle. I’m waiting. I know better than to ask when your touch will come. I know better than to move a muscle out of place. I know better than to beg for you to take your hand and make me scream. I know I have to wait. I know that only by waiting, will you give me what I so desperately want. So I wait. My cunny is open and wet to your gaze. My knees are trembling slightly from fear, excitement and need. The fear stems from not knowing how you will approach my fisting today. Will you ease me into it with your fingers one at a time? Or will you curl up your fingers and see how much of your hand you can force into me at the first attempt? The excitement as strange as it sounds, stems from that fear. I know that my cunny is tighter when I’m on my knees, I know that my arse is right there available to you as well. Fear of the unknown, so sexy when I’m in my submissive frame of mind. The need stems from wanting to be filled, from wanting to be stretched, from knowing that you’re probably thinking ‘This one is so loose, what could possibly be fun for her’. It is humiliating, but sometimes I need that too.

The waiting is over. You’ve chosen to make me moan by gently starting off with fucking me with just one finger. I wiggle around and want to ask for, no demand, more but I just moan and wiggle. That is enough to earn me a solid slap on my arse, which I assume ripples from the blow. I’m still. I can feel finger number two going in. I still feel only slight movement. My cunny is loose and without being able to see your face, two fingers are just teasing me. You appear to realise this and I feel the third finger being added. I push back against your fingers because I’m greedy. I want you to fuck me and fuck me hard with those fingers. I want more. I want to feel full. My mind is filled with thoughts of your fingers and your cock at once. My mind is filled with wanting both your hands in me. With three fingers in me my excitement is such that I have wild fantasies about things that would most likely cause me pain later, after the excitement of the forbidden has worn off.

You slip the fourth finger in and I can’t be silent any more. Please I beg. Please put your hand in me. But that is far too polite for you. I know what you want to hear. You want to hear me being crude. As open as I am about my sexuality this one thing still eludes me. Talking dirty still makes me blush. You twist four fingers in me and I can feel a slight twinge as you angle your fingers forward. It hurts. It hurts in the best way possible and I give you what you want. I beg you to fuck me with your hand. Fuck me and fuck me hard. You oblige and while my panting and the combination of almost getting what I want has me slightly light headed, it is nothing compared to when your knuckles and the wide part of your hand passes through my cunny hole. It is nothing compared to when I can feel my pubic bone shift and the pain (the very best kind) that I feel when my cunny lips wrap around your wrist.

You haven’t made it an easy penetration. You didn’t ‘duckbill’ your hand. Even facing away from you I can feel that. You made a fist. You made a fist and you forced it into me. You give me a moment to adjust because you can hear the harshness of my breathing. You can see the goose bumps that have erupted over my abundant flesh.

You start of by slowly turning your wrist. I’m restless because that is not enough. I want the pain damnit. I want the rough. I want to feel you tomorrow. I want to have a phantom of your fist in my cunny all day for the next few days because you have battered me so well. You sense this from my pushing back towards you and you push your fist in deeper. I cum. It is instant. No clit touching necessary because you have shoved your hand against my cervix. It hurts, but it was exactly what I needed. I can feel my cunny finally tightening around your hand, trapping it. I’m bucking around because you have not let me have this orgasm by myself. Oh no, your hand is now twisting back and forth inside my cunny. It is too much. I plead for small mercy. You stop moving your hand. I would never plead for outright mercy because that would mean your hand would disappear. As wonderful as that orgasm was, it wasn’t enough. Being fisted always caused huge orgasms that leave me wanting, needing more – immediately. You know what I want. You know what I need.

You start pulling your hand completely out of my cunny, the knuckles catching on my fleshy cunny lips and you laugh again as you ram your hand back in. It is too much and I start to pull away from you. You are displeased and order me to lie down on my back. You want to see my face and you want to prevent me from pulling away from your touch. Your touch that I simultaneously crave and am flinching away from. You know that being on my back is more difficult for me and yet infinitely better too. You know that I can cum from you just having your hand in me and me kissing you at the same time. You also know that laying back like that, exposing all my flaws to you makes me nervous. I know it pleases you that I display such trust in you though and it all works to mentally make the experience better.

I want to ride your hand. I want you to put your hand in my cunny and hold it still.

I want to buck my hips and have you twist your fist inside of me. I want to hear you telling me how depraved I am for wanting this, for cumming from this but I also want to hear you telling me how much you enjoy my depravity. I want to hear those prized words. I want to be your ‘good girl’.


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