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Message-ID: <44620asstr$1065471006@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "A.Kitten" <akitten@blackhole.riot.eu.org>
Subject: {ASSM} Uxorious (MF, bdsm, rom, caution) {A. Kitten}
Date: Mon,  6 Oct 2003 16:10:06 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Your community has standards. If these standards make it illegal to
read material such as is described in the subject, of if you are
likely to be offended by it, don't read it.

***

A. Kitten: "Uxorious" (MF, bdsm, rom, caution)

"Hey," I forced out between belly laughs. "Stop it!" I tried to roll
away, but the wall wasn't cooperating.

Jon crawled forward and loomed over me. "Are you trying to get away?"
he cooed.

I grinned what I hoped was defiantly. "Wouldn't (hoo!) you be if
(hah!) some sadistic creep was (eee!) trying to--"

"Is that any way to talk about your Master, little one?" I stuck out
my tongue and welcomed the firm grasp of his hands on my forearms,
feeling free at last to struggle against something.

"That's quite enough of that!" He poked me in the mouth, but I refused
to reel in the offending organ. "You know how much it hurts me to
punish you."

"Somehow," I said wryly, "it always hurts me more." As soon as the
words were out, he slapped is hand over my mouth.

"Aha!" I licked at the hollow of his palm, but to no avail. "That does
it for the tongue. I'll get the rest of you in line soon enough."

I tried to tell him how much I was looking forward to it, but all he
heard was something like, "Mim Muummim Humad u mit!" Then a sigh of
pleasure as the cuffs were tightened around my wrists.

As he was reaching over to the nightstand, I twisted my head away from
him. "I'll be good. You don't have to gag me this time."

"Would you like a blindfold?"

"No, I'll go au naturel."

"All right." Jon set the mini-cat down between my breasts and moved
down to the foot of the bed. I strained my neck and nervously divided
my attention between the instrument of my fate and his binding of my
ankles in preparation for it, then let my head fall back onto the
pillow as he moved up my body.

When we were eye-to-eye he began to run his hands along my sides. I
felt myself opening up and the butterflies escape my stomach, along
with a soft, relaxed sigh. "That's gooood," I allowed.

"Just like when I tickled you?"

"I didn't like it at all!"

"You sure smiled a lot." He picked up the whip.

"That was only because--" The first hit came and I groaned suddenly.
"Uuhh!"

"How 'bout that?"

"Don't know yet. Try a few more." My gentle Master obliged me, and I
lay back and enjoyed the agonizing kiss of the supple leather. The
brightly dyed leather licked fiercely at my breasts and belly in a
meek reminder of the whip's larger sibling. Every few strokes he bent
his head and traced or tenderly pressed into the redness with his
tongue and lips. Then back to the flicker and crash, never hitting
very hard, slowly and carefully building my pain towards whatever
diabolical end he had in mind.

"Does this please you, Master?"

"Yes, Melissa." He said, and I closed my eyes, savoring the sting that
built during his pause. "You please me."

It was enough to bring forth my first moan, quickly followed by a
squeal as he delivered the hardest blow yet, precisely centered around
my navel. I pushed my hips up, and he accepted the gift as his due,
probing the delicate depression first with puckered lips and then with
outstretched tongue. As I squirmed, he pushed his whip hand in between
his body and my leg and stroked at my center with the limp limbs of
his co-tormenter.

"You're completely dry!" His exclamation drew me back from wherever
I'd started to fly into.

"That's a laugh! I'm soaking," I retorted, although the truth was
somewhere in between. "Besides, what kind of a sicko gets off on being
tied up and abused, even," my voice caught as he drew himself up and
tweak a nipple on the way to another round, "when the abuse is as
considerate as yours."

"All in good time, love," he assured me, and finished with enough of
those stronger strokes to leave me panting before laying the whip in
my hair.

He cupped my hips. By now I had gotten into the pain enough that they
were making cute little jerking motions, but my head had pushed back
so I couldn't see. He stared at the eye of my storm between them.

"You...," he breathed.

Jon's always claimed he likes giving oral sex better than penetration.
I assume what he did next was yet another attempt to prove it.

**

The session had drained both of us, so I fell asleep to the feeling of
him undoing the bonds and cradling my limbs. When I woke up, I was
still drained, but only in a good way. I turned my head to tell him
so, but the bed was empty.

Still too satisfied to be disappointed (well, maybe a little), I let
my eyelids droop and twisted into an Olympic-quality stretch. We had
only been together a little more than a year, and wouldn't be forever,
but it was easy to imagine that things always been like this and
always would be, that I always felt so sore and ecstatic.

The stretch ended. Suddenly panicked, my eyes snapped open and zeroed
in on his digital clock. I packed away my sass, threw on some clothes,
and forced myself out into the real world.

It was amazing how little my other life intruded during the day
(although I caught myself idly rubbing a particularly interesting spot
on my outer thigh a few times). But as soon as I could, I zoomed back
over to Jon's.

The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. Inside, it was entirely
dark, except for a splash of light on the wall down the hall.

"Master?" I wasn't anticipating another scene right away, but it was a
small thrill just to say it. I poked my head through the bathroom
door--

That was when I caught him. Cutting himself. I caught him cutting
himself.

I almost ran. I almost just let him keep doing it as long as I didn't
have to see. But I owe him more than that.

He let his arms go limp as soon as I touched them. Thankfully, it
wasn't very deep. It was also the first time he'd let me apply first
aid, and I watched the time pass in silence, more frightened of him
now than I'd ever been during my submission.

I took a deep breath. "You're getting worse." Nothing.

I tried again. "You should see somebody. I mean it this time." Jon
looked up, startled. "Even you know you need to. I know you were
thinking it. You didn't just dismiss it this time."

"No. I can't go back. I told you before, I'll fight it on my own,
until I lose."

"Does a crippling illness make you a better person?"

"Don't get involved. Nobody wants to listen to a whiney, messed up guy
like me."

Another deep breath. "Okay." I moved back from him, stoop up, prayed
that I was strong enough to go through with what I had to do.

Then, before I could run, I tore off my shirt.

"Use me."

The limpness was gone instantly. "What?!"

"Please, Master. Until it stops. That's the healthy side, the one that
likes to control and punish me."

Why wasn't it working? He just started back at me, and I could hear
the inner wince in his voice. "It's not like that. I just--things just
don't work like that."

"It wouldn't be right." He unfolded, stood up. "You don't want this,
this is my problem."

"I *don't* want this! I want it to be *our* problem."

"I couldn't do that. Not to you. Please, not to you."

Screaming. "At least let me understand." Crying.

He had taken the fluffy maroon hand-towel from next to the sink.

"Shhh." The first time we washed the new towels, he showed me the huge
mass of dark red link that had built up in the dryer, almost as big as
another whole hand towel. "Shhh." Then he had stuffed in my mouth and
wrapped tape around my head and shown me a new mode of euphoria.
"Shhh."

Now, he gently wiped tears off of my cheeks, my chin, my neck,
whatever skin I had wet with worry about him.

His arms were around me.

Is it wrong to love a high-maintenance Master?

**

Say something warm, say something nice
I can't stand to see you when you're cold
Nor can I stand being out of your life
And I could bleed in sympathy with you
On those days
And I could drink up everything you have
	-- Galaxie 500 - "Don`t Let Our Youth Go to Waste"

***

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Date: Mon Oct  6 16:52:26 2003 GMT
From: akitten@blackhole.riot.eu.org

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