1. S's Story


    Date: 1/12/2017, Categories: BDSM, Author: gushkinbanda, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    racing became merely intense rather than frenetic. "Rise, little one," his voice called. It took her hands half a second to release their talon-like grip on the legs of the chair and she slid back onto her knees before hesitantly placing her right foot on the floor. She thought she might stumble but before she began to tip over, his hand was there on her forearm, firm but not painful or rough, to help her to her feet. She followed the guiding pressure from his hand to stand before the mirror, facing it. Her tear-drenched face and swollen, reddened eyes mocked her proud, steady posture. She dared not glance at his face, fearing even a hint of disappointment in his eyes. His hand on her arm pulled her gently around to face away from the mirror and dropped away, moving to her chin to turn her head to face the mirror. She twisted around, holding her feet and hips resolutely in place and gazed in amazement at the red, no maroon, color of her skin. She felt her pulse there and was sure that, if she held her hand even six inches away, she could have felt the heat pouring off of it. He leaned forward, so close that she felt his breath against her cheek, his lips as close to her ear as possible without touching it. She closed her eyes, determined to avoid seeing the displeasure that she was sure must darken his expression. "Perfect, little one. Perfect." Her eyes sprung open and met his in the mirror. His face showed no hint of smile, only a firm confidence in her and his faith in ...
    her. "You could not be more beautiful to me, little one." She could not help herself. Her head whipped around and her hands flew to her face as she began to sob, her fingers quickly soaked with her tears. In a movement as sure and deliberate as the step of a Russian guard, he moved before her and enclosed her in his strong and protective arms, calming her spasms of joy and relief and clutching her steadfastly to his chest while holding his hips slightly away. It took her a moment to realize that he was preventing her body from pressing into his groin so as to prevent the evidence of his desire from distracting from the comfort of his embrace. For a long while, many minutes it seemed, he held her, allowing her to completely release her suppressed anxiety and fear. As her breathing slowed, he spoke, "Only when you are ready, little one." She took several deep breaths and, once she was able to breathe regularly, she gently and tentatively pulled away and knelt before him, keeping her eyes down. He remained silent and slowly circled her... once... twice... a third time... and stopped directly in front of her. As she waited, she studied the break in the well-pressed creases in his slacks and the cuffs resting on perfectly shined, but not glossy boots. She realized, with some confusion, that she had time to wonder: “Why is he waiting? What was he thinking?” The air in the room was cool on her bare skin, particularly on the still hot flesh of her buttocks. Her knees and toes pressed ...
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