Literotic asexstories – The Trophy Wife Ch. 02 by MagicBob,MagicBob
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Just when Anita was fulfilling my fantasies and pushing my limits, things changed!
I learned that a bottom who becomes a top is called a “switch.” When fantasy becomes reality, it may be more than you expect.
I had been reading “Variations” letters for years before meeting Anita. And, I had purchased sundry other books with fetish and BDSM themes.
In the beginning I found it interesting that such a beautiful woman as Anita exacted her unique pleasure from being a domme, or top, as she like to be called. For her, it was not an act, but an active lifestyle that gave her the release she desired. In many ways, I was the vessel or bottom that provided her pleasure.
During our many conversations on the veranda before our sessions began, she explained that there were distinct types of lifestyles within the BDSM community. She told me that what I had read in books were made-up fantasies. The reality of it all with her was different. What she practiced was unique. It was not acting.
She also found pleasure in fulfilling some of my fantasies. It was the reality of these active sessions that satisfied something deep inside of me. It was also refreshing that other people had these same desires or enjoyed exploring several types of release. Of course, along the way, she exacted her personal unusual pleasure too!
My erotic reading only extended my fantasies created by my imagination. I think of all the kinky stuff that had occupied my mind over the years and how I used it to masturbate.
Yes, beautiful Anita brought me to higher excitement levels or limits, and I was more than smitten. You may say I was addicted to these higher orgasm levels. I could not get enough of it. I wanted my limits pushed and she pushed my limits.
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I remember this one afternoon well. Fall was in the air. The afternoon shadows gave a different look as we had lunch at the French restaurant. I took the rest of the day off. Sometimes I worked 60 hours a week, so there was no problem taking time off. Two weeks had passed, and I was ready for some more of our unique release.
She started by asking me questions about being dominant and being a boss. Was I a stern boss or easy going? I told her I was an objective boss, firm, outworked my employees, and I led by example. She continued to ask questions like that.
Her green eyes sparkled in the dappled sunlight. I could tell she was braless, and I could tell her nipples were hard. That combined with her beauty and perfume had my head spinning.
Lunch was turning into some sort of interview. She rarely touched me in public, but she leaned across the table and rubbed my arm. I felt all kinds of emotion from her touch but most significantly was the feeling of some deep burning desire in her. Her eye contact captured me. Nothing like I had felt before when she had touched me. It was as if she were pleading for something.
“Today is your graduation day, and you will take control from me,” she said. “Always remember the bottom is the one in control. I knew you were a “switch” the first time we met.”
I was confused again. She further explained, “Certain bottoms can also be tops and this type of person is called a switch.” I thought, “switch” that is an interesting term.”
“I know only you can give me the type of release I need as a submissive.” She further explained, “It is a psychological and emotional release.”
It is so hard to remember all of her exact words. I can assure you this was the most in-depth discussion we ever had about our special times together.
“I need to cry and whimper emotionally.”
I was not sure what was going to come next, but when we got to her house, she led me directly to the special room. It was more than a dungeon. She gave me leather chaps and asked me to wear them. She walked out and said she would be right back. I noticed the chaps did not cover my balls or penis.
She came into the room with heavy make-up on and with dark shadows around her eyes. What set me back was the wide collar she wore on her neck and clip leather cuffs on her wrists. She looked beautiful yet surreal.
She broke an amyl nitrate ampule and we both sniffed it. It was strong in my head, and she said, “I will guide you this first time. I don’t want you to act but I want you to get into it and let go.”
I knew a lot from my reading what tops did but her version of BDSM was different. Having never taken the lead as a top, you know, I was game for this.
We first we proceeded to the (Saint Andrews) cross with all kinds of straps on it. She gave me what I later learned was an expensive flogger to start out with. It was made of high-quality leather with long ribbons of suede.
Then I connected her to the cross. Her body was a work of art in itself. Her back was to me with her legs spread.
She said, “Spin the flogger in a circular motion like a cartwheel. Remember that skin itself is a sexual organ. Use it lightly to caress first, then light smacks, and then harder smacks.”
And I did from the back of her neck, down her back to her butt cheeks, to her calves, then her feet bottoms. Harder, softer, repeat finding a cadence. This flogger did not create whelps but only left a pink blush on her skin.
The flogger’s long suede leather strands of soft leather moved in a way that I could caress or smack. It was heavy in my hand.
She told me, “Correctly used it would stimulate the skin and provide her with a sexual response. Think soft and hard and make my skin pink.”
She had me rotating the flogger like a paddle wheel smacking her bottom. Then she told me her safe word was “blue,” my favorite color!
“Harder master Bob!” I almost shit on the floor, not Bobby. But master Bob…I was in control!
Again, I started up at her neck with a sideways rotation of the flogger. She sighed, as I worked down her back, soft and hard, those magic leather fingers causing such an interesting response from her. I was getting stiff.
I surprised her with her legs spread open on the cross, I alternated teasing her vulva and clit with my left hand as I moved the flogger hitting the back of her body in a cadence that was almost musical. Neck, ribs, arms, waist, butt cheeks, thighs, calves and then the feet. These were light and hard smacks of the leather fingers, mostly stimulating her skin to pink.
She requested special attention to the soles of her feel saying, “Harder, please harder.”
And, so it escalated, and then something happened to me. Of course, I was aroused. She was excited and wet, but there was something that happened to my demeanor. Past transgressions she had imposed on me were extinguished. It was part of my mental flow, a strange release without orgasm was happening in my mind.
Every inch of her skin was a sexual organ. She was leaking down her right leg and the flogger had given her skin the required pink flush. She was breathing hard and moaning lightly.
At this moment I owned her, and I was going to exact my new level of pleasure.
In the background I heard, “Harder,” And so it went until she said, “Now between my legs and rotate hard. Spin the flogger in an upward circular motion. That’s it, I’m getting so hot.”
While it hit her vulva smartly with a slapping sound, she became wetter. There was a heavier flow running down her leg. She was breathing deeply.
“Take me down and spin me around on my back,” She whispered, almost out of breath.
Of course, I avoided her face, so, soft and hard on her shoulders and then to her nipples. She was moaning differently with soft and hard application of the flogger on her breasts. The way she was shaking, I thought she was having small orgasms. Nipple orgasms, how interesting!
More of the same on the front of her body, belly pelvic area, upper thighs, and the down to the tops of her feet. I noticed the flogger was leaving little red marks, but they would disappear after a while leaving the desired slight pink blush.
She then directed me to wheeling it harder at her vulva, “Harder, please harder on my pussy master Bob.”
And that spurred me on, and her labia lips were extended, she was sloppy wet and the leather on the flogger was wet. Her clit seemed twice the size and she wanted it harder. I was afraid that I would cause it to have welts or something.
Again, I figured out I was in control, and I could do what I wanted. I leaned down pushed my tongue from the bottom of her labia slowly separating the lips coming to a resting point just below the hooded clit. It was big, I pushed my tongue as hard as I could on both sides of her labia, something I had learned in Southeast Asia. She gave a pleasurable sigh. Acupressure points on both sides were pushed, almost moving her whole body forward and I stopped and waited.
I knew this created anticipation and waited until she started to hunch my tongue. Then I sucked in her clit, lightly bit down on it, and flicked the tip of the clit with my tongue as fast as I could. As she got closer to orgasm, I bit harder and flicked harder, her back arched and she came violently. I placed two fingers in her vagina and lifted up to her G spot and pushed back and forth. She was shaking all over having one orgasm after another.
“Breathe Anita, breathe,” I ordered.
I unhooked her into my arms and carried her over to the black leather bed. I had read about “after care” when the hormones flooded the body almost to the point of unconsciousness and she fell asleep in my arms.
At that point I was ready for relief. I would just have to wait. I would not do anything while she was in that state.
After an hour, she awoke and slid down and gave me a blow job. She was good at it and did it very slowly. I was exhausted and ready to doze off.
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