Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the first week, my theme is kinky stories. Come back for Week 2 (Romantic), Week 3 (Anything Goes), or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy E is for Eager.

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I was so eager. Eager to feel his tongue on me. Eager to feel his hands on me. Eager to feel his cock fill my pussy.

But right now, I had to wait. He had me strapped to the bed, completely nude, and he was tickling me. I was so ticklish it wasn’t even funny, especially to me. But I found that when he tickled me against my will, it turned me on so much. I was drenched with my arousal. I pulled against the bonds in vain. I screamed. I felt tears prick my eyes. But all the while, I was getting more and more turned on.

“Please, stop, please, please stop tickling me,” I begged.

He didn’t respond. He just kept going. I kept screaming.

After what felt like an hour, but was only five minutes, he stopped. He slid one finger along my slit and collected my wetness. He brought his finger to my lips.

“A little turned on?” he asked.

I could lie, but what would be the point. “Yes, Sir,” I said.

He smiled then, and I knew that he was pleased. He stuck the finger into my mouth, and I eagerly licked it clean. He repeated the process twice more, and I felt a strong desire to suck his cock.

He smacked my inner thigh suddenly, and I jerked against the bonds.

“What is it you want in your mouth, slut?”

“Your cock.” I practically moaned the words.

“If I let you out of your bonds, will you be a good girl?”

“Of course, Sir,” I said.

And he knew that I was mostly telling the truth. I was a brat. I needed a heavy hand. I liked to push the boundaries. I liked pressing my luck. But he knew all of that. We had been playing together for a long time.

He shook his head, knowing that he was making a mistake, but doing it anyway. He didn’t take the restraints off of my wrists and ankles though; he just unclipped them from the bed restraints.

He was standing next to the bed, and I sank down to my knees in front of him. I took his cock into my mouth and began to suck him. I sucked gently, pulled his cock deep into my throat, then pulled back and licked him. I abandoned his cock for a moment and licked his balls, taking each one into my mouth in turn. He groaned when I did that. I knew he liked it.

But as I sucked him, one of my hands was moving to my pussy. I wanted to cum, even though I wasn’t allowed to without permission.

My fingers had barely touched my clit when he realized what I was doing. He pulled his cock from my mouth and smacked me across the face. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to sting and take me down a notch.

“What are you doing?” he asked, even though we both knew exactly what I had been doing.

“Sucking your cock, Sir.”

“And?”

“Playing with my clit, Sir.” I dropped my gaze to my lap in mock contrition.

“Are you allowed to play with your clit without permission?”

“No, Sir.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Get back on the bed.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

I got back on the bed, and he restrained me again. Then he got out the clamps that I dreaded. They connected my nipples to my clit. It wasn’t that bad, honestly, until I got aroused. And then my clit swelled, and it hurt worse than anything else he could do to me. But right now, my clit wasn’t too swollen, so I was okay.

He rereleased my wrists and ankles and told me to kneel in front of him. “You aren’t done sucking my cock,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied.

I got on my knees in front of him and resumed licking and sucking him. My nipples ached mildly with the chains pulling at them, but the longer I sucked him, the more he grabbed the back of my head and forced me to deep throat him, the more turned on I got.

Within a matter of seconds, I was moaning around his cock. As it hurt worse, I wasn’t able to focus on sucking him, so he wrapped his fingers in my hair and started fucking my throat.

The more forceful he got, the more turned on I got, the more it hurt. The more it hurt, the more turned on I got, the more I moaned. The more I moaned, the more forceful he got. It was a vicious cycle.

By the time he was ready to cum, I was crying. He slammed his cock down the back of my throat and held it a little longer than he had before, and I knew that was it. He groaned loudly, and I felt the first bit of cum hit the back of my throat. Then he pulled out and sprayed the rest of his cum across my face. His cum mixed with my tears and I nearly collapsed on the floor when he let go of my hair.

“Next time you want to play with your clit, you’ll ask.”

“Yes, Sir,” I choked out.

“You can play with it all you want now,” he said, and he walked out of the room and into the adjoining bathroom.

I picked myself up off the floor, disconnected the clamps with a wince, and then tenderly rubbed my clit. I was so turned on that it didn’t take long to get close to orgasm, but it was painful. The pain just spurred me on though.

I had one quiet, shuddering orgasm, and then I went to the bathroom door and knelt outside of it. “Thank you, Sir,” I called through the door. I didn’t get a reply.

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