Ciana Rose's Erotic Stories


Waiting For Him To Come

Lady Yvette

All Rights Reserved



I wake up with a start, my nightmare of being buried alive still frighteningly real. The muscles in my shoulders and thighs ache. My nipples sting. I try to close my legs and sit up but I can't move! I panic, fighting the tight restraints on my wrists and ankles until I realize where I am. The hot, sweat-soaked leather of the rack beneath me is familiar, reassuring. My body is stretched to the limit, arms pulled straight out above my head, legs spread as far apart as the "wings" holding them can go, exposing me, leaving me totally vulnerable. I try to guess how long I've been in restraint but I can't. It could be a few hours or much longer. No sound or light penetrates the room. The nearly complete lack of sensory stimulation sharpens my senses. I listen to the sound of my breathing and savor the smells permeating the warm, moist air: leather, wood, sweat and musk. I flex my muscles, tug against the restraints to work out the cramps and wait. My desire burns like a low-banked flame. I fantasize about Him lying on me, holding my wrists above my head, our bodies moving together until the flame grows uncomfortably high and I have to force myself to stop thinking about it. I may have a long wait and time stands still when He's not with me.

The door opens. Bright light dazzles my eyes. He stands silently in the doorway, watching me. I look at Him over my sweat-shiny breasts, tortured into sharp cones by leather thongs attached to my rings. An alligator clip bites relentlessly into the stretched flesh below each ring. He holds up a glass, smiles, takes a sip and walks slowly to my side. I watch sparkling beads of moisture run down the glass and suddenly realize how thirsty I am. I wish I could lick my lips. I press my tongue helplessly against the ball gag and stare longingly at the glass.

"Is My little bitch getting thirsty?" He takes another drink, swishes the amber liquid and ice around and smiles.

I nod and mumble "Yes, Master" unintelligibly against the ball gag.

He removes an ice cube and rubs it over my parched lips. Most of the water trickles down my cheeks and chin but a few drops seep around the gag straps and into the corners of my mouth. I plead with my eyes for Him to free my mouth and give me a sip. He places the glass next to my cheek on the rack, teasing me with its cold wetness and pops the ice into His mouth.

"No, it hasn't been very long. You aren't really thirsty yet."

He rubs his fingertips over my distended breasts, then presses down on them, stretching my nipples still farther. I groan and fight to raise myself a bit. He lets me struggle for a while, then takes pity on me. I nod gratefully, acknowledging his mercy when he removes the thongs. He leaves the alligator clamps on to bite my nipples. He fishes out another cube and slowly traces it over my lower lip and chin, down the hollow of my neck and between my breasts. It leaves a trail of cold flame behind it. My nipples harden. The little teeth in the clamps bite deeper. He moves the ice slowly around my breast, circling closer to my nipple until He finally touches it. The clamp suddenly feels like it's electrically charged, sending little shocks into my nipple wherever the ice touches. He pulls my ring upward, stretching my breast, setting it on fire. I struggle to raise myself off the rack to ease the pain. He just pulls harder until I settle back to accept my torture. He holds the ice against my nipple. It melts quickly, sending a little rivulet of cold down over my breast and ribs. He does the same things to my other breast. The tingling radiates from them into my stomach, then lower. He removes the clips, bends over me and takes my nipples alternately into his mouth, sucking gently, rubbing his tongue over their tips above the rings. My arousal and thirst burn with equal intensity. I rub my cheek against the cold, wet glass and I tilt my hips, begging Him to caress me. He places the nearly melted cube in my navel and takes another from the glass. This one He squeezes just above my mouth, letting it drip slowly onto the ball. I finally collect a little moisture in my mouth and struggle against the gag to swallow.

He spreads me with His fingertips and slides the half-melted cube inside me. The second, the third and the fourth are large and sharp-edged. They stretch my narrow opening, burning wherever they touch. I try in vain to spread my legs wider to make them easier to take. He forces them deep with His finger. I tighten around it, trying to hold Him inside me. He teases me, pulling it out slowly, then runs the cold tip lightly up and down the insides of my thighs. I can feel each beat of my heart in my nipples, womb and clit. I can't lie still. I thrust upward and try to rub against His fingers. He touches my clit for an instant. I continue to move helplessly, searching desperately for His hand. I need to come so badly that I don't care how He punishes me afterward. I can't help myself and He knows it.

"You don't learn, do you?" He asks. "Always trying to come without permission." He frees my right hand. He loves to watch me masturbate, to struggle to make myself come in tight restraint. It humiliates me to have Him see me do what no one else has seen, to expose my most intimate secrets. I hate myself but I beg with my eyes for Him to let me do it. Anything is better than teetering on the brink with no relief. I obediently hold my hand away from my body, waiting for permission to touch myself. He parts my labia and presses the flesh around my clit, exposing it.

"Go ahead, rub it!" He orders. My body convulses when I touch the little point of jangling nerves. He lets me stimulate it until I can't lie still.

"Now you may put a finger inside."

I slide my middle finger in and swirl the melting cubes around. They bump against my cervix and G-spot, setting up delicious little vibrations. I start to pant and strain to raise my hips. He allows me to struggle to come for a few minutes, only to forbid me to finish.

"Put your hand back over your head, bitch!" He snarls. "You don't deserve to come."

I withdraw my hand slowly, savoring the final contact. He leaves my wrist free and commands me to hold onto the strap. My torture will be doubly exquisite. Having my hand free but being unable to use it is worse than being fully restrained!

He leans over and stares into my eyes for a long time before asking if I'm prepared to begin the next phase of submission.

I mumble "Yes, Master" and nod.

"To serve Me and anyone else to whom I choose to make you available in any manner whatsoever?"

I nod again. My life is His to control. I'm glad when He blindfolds me. It hides the tears of frustration that threaten to flow at any moment. I don't want Him to see me cry. It proves my weakness.

He opens the door and speaks to someone! They approach my bound, naked body together. No one could imagine the things I let Him do to me; how I've degraded myself in the months we've lived together! I struggle futilely and shake my head, pleading with Him not to let a stranger see me like this. He fumbles in the wet hair at the back of my neck and unbuckles the gag. I try to force it out of my mouth with my tongue. The ball is far too large. He lets me struggle with it for a while before tugging on the straps. Pain flares through my jaw and cheeks as I force my mouth open wide enough to allow Him to pull the ball past my teeth. I close my mouth gingerly. The pain slowly subsides. I remain silent. He'll punish me if I speak without being spoken to, especially to plead with Him to make the other person go away. My secrets are secret no longer. I resign myself to the unwanted presence. My thirst returns with a vengeance as soon as I relax. I suddenly feel like I'm dying of thirst. I lick the condensation from the side of the glass.

"So this is my competition. She's lovely spread out like this," a woman's soft, throaty voice says from the darkness.

I feel incredibly vulnerable. Who is she? How much does she know about me? Her presence makes me feel even more naked and compromised.

"Her nipples are big and pale. They'll take the ink well," she says approvingly, "and the rings are perfectly placed." She pulls one of the clamps. "I can't work with these in my way." A burst of agony rips through my nipple as the little teeth pull free of my tormented flesh.

"May I touch her, Master?"

My head reels! He has another slave! He gives her permission to proceed. Soft fingers massage my swollen tissue, replacing the ache of the clamps with an ache of a different kind. She cups and molds my breasts.

"They're nice and firm," she comments as she fondles me. Something cold splashes over my chest. The pungent stench of alcohol fills my nose. I'm suddenly a little girl again, sitting in the doctor's office, awaiting a dreaded injection. The fear it calls forth is deep-rooted, instinctive. For me, it is the smell of pain without pleasure.

"Such lovely white skin." Her voice is softer and lower. She traces lines on the outer edges of my breasts with a pointed fingernail. "I'm going cover them from here to here."

"Fine," He agrees. An angry buzzing sound is quickly followed by a series of sharp needle pricks in the outer curve of my left breast. I panic and scream, squirming helplessly against the unyielding leather straps. I touch her wrist with my free hand before I realize I'm doing it.

"Put your hand back where it belongs!" He snarls "And shut up unless you want me to put the ball back in your worthless mouth!" I reach back over my head, grab the strap and pull on it as hard as I can.

"She's not very well trained," she complains as she goes back to torturing my breast.

"We'll continue her training together," He says, casually committing me to accept anything this stranger decides to do with me.

I'm suddenly struck by how little I know about this man to whom I've surrendered my life. I wonder what He does with the unseen woman who also calls Him "Master." Does He do the same incredible things to her that He does to me? Things I couldn't have imagined a few months ago, which I now not only accept but also crave? Her sweet, musky perfume mingles with the smell of the alcohol. I wonder whether they're nude, fresh from His bed. I've surrendered myself to Him completely. He can and will do with me whatever pleases Him.

The pricking advances slowly over my entire breast, except for my nipple. She saves it for last. The pain is much more intense there. He pulls the ring, stretching me this way and that so she can do a thorough job. I dig my nails into my palms and bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood.

She stops and asks Him to rub her shoulders. "That feels wonderful!" she purrs. Clothing rustles. A zipper slides down. The rack creaks when one of them leans against it.

"Rub here and here..." She starts to pant. "Yes! Oh, that feels so good!" She exhales suddenly and wails. "Damn this lock! I can't wait to be rid of it!"

"That's too bad. Finish up with her," He commands. She sighs deeply and begins again, working slowly through my cleavage and across my right breast. She saves my nipple for last again, letting me anticipate the pain. It stings so badly I moan. He rubs the ball gag against my lips, reminding me to keep silent. The humming and needle pricks finally stop. She swabs me with alcohol. My chest feels like it's covered with red-hot steel wool.

"Finished!" she exclaims. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Yes," He agrees. "You certainly haven't lost your touch!"

She pats my stomach. "A perfect subject. Her belly is nice and flat," she emphasizes the last word "and her skin is like satin. If I weren't so tired, I'd do more." She toys with my pubic hair and comments "Hmm, She's nice and soft." I feel like a dog being judged at a show. She acts like she owns me! Why did He let her torture me? I almost speak, then think better of it. I'm in no position to object. She touches the inside of my left knee, traces a line to my labia and penetrates me with her finger.

"Well! I don't see why you're so captivated!" she exclaims as I gasp and squirm. "She's certainly not very tight!" She withdraws her finger, pinches my labia tightly together and says, "Let me close her now."

What is she talking about? I'm on the verge of screaming again!

"No," He replies "go ahead and pierce her but I don't want her closed until you're back to normal."

She sighs. "Very well. Play with your little toy for now." She cups my chin and presses her lips to mine. I try to turn away but she holds me more tightly, digs her nails into my cheeks and whispers against my mouth. "Enjoy Him while you can, Emily! You won't be able to much longer!" Her tongue slides between my teeth and brushes mine, then she releases me. A cold chunk of metal drops onto my stomach.

"You had another one made," she says in dismay. "I thought we were going to use mine."

"I changed My mind. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No Master," she replies contritely "but I wish I didn't have to wear this thing all the time! It drives me crazy!"

"If you wore it all the time, you wouldn't look like you do," He answers harshly. She starts to say something but He interrupts. "Maybe I'll take it off for a little while today, if you earn it."

"A lot of good that will do me like this..." she replies wistfully.

"Another few weeks and it will be over. You'll look and feel fine after you have it," He says.

She's pregnant! Is it His? Oh, God how I wish I could at least see her. It won't do any good to ask Him what's going on. He'd tell me if He wanted me to know.

"I'll please you if you take it off, I promise!" She sounds excited and desperate.

"I'll think about it while you finish up with our bitch." I wonder what the "it" is that bothers her so much. Perhaps it's like whatever is lying on my stomach. She swabs my inner labia with alcohol, stretches one away from my body and asks Him to hold it. A sharp pain followed by a second one lance my distended flesh. I scream, then bite my lip. I pull so hard on the straps that the leather creaks. She threads a ring into each piercing, then repeats the procedure on my other labia.

She puts her lips to my ear, slips a fingertip inside me and laughs when I move on it despite my best effort to remain still.

"I wish I could lock you now, you horny little whore! I'm tired of doing without while He uses you!" She removes her finger and spreads my wetness on my lips.

"Can we go now, Master?" she asks hopefully.

"No. I'm not finished with Emily yet."

"Come with me," she pleads. "Don't waste it on her. I need for you to finish what you started."

"Get the hell out, Linda!" He yells. Her footsteps recede. The door slams shut. I try to visualize a woman to go with the name and low, sexy voice. Is she younger than I am? Older? More beautiful?

I let go of the strap and reach out to Him. He pushes my hand away. I want to tear the blindfold off to see what she's done to me but I don't dare. I gingerly touch the heavy chunk of metal on my stomach. It's an elongated lock with a pair of thick semi-circular hasps about an inch in diameter.

He lets me hold it for a minute, then takes it away and says, "you'll have plenty of time to play with this later." I can't imagine what He's talking about. He seems to read my mind and laughs.

"Don't worry. You'll understand soon enough!" He puts my hand between my legs. I press it tightly against my pubis. The moist hair is slippery under my palm. He hasn't given me permission to masturbate so I hold my fingers obediently away from myself. The ice has long since melted away inside me, leaving white heat in its place. I want to put my finger inside and rub my swollen G-spot but I can't without His approval. I ask Him to allow me to stimulate myself. He ignores my request and stretches my labia. A mixture of water from the melted ice and my lubricant trickles out over my anus. His hands brush my outstretched fingers as He threads thongs through each set of rings and ties them around my thighs, holding me open. The rings burn relentlessly but the pain doesn't decrease my need. I fight the urge to grasp His hand and move against it. He would only make me wait longer for being so impudent.

"Go ahead and rub your clit," He commands, then adds offhandedly, "and you can even play with your sloppy cunt!" I wasn't loose when we started out. He's responsible for it but He blames me. He fisted me so hard that He stretched me. Then he used all kinds of things in me and made me use them, too. When He makes love to me now, He's rough, not gentle like He was at first. He punishes me for His lack of enjoyment. I miss His former tenderness but I need satisfaction even more and the more I get, the more I need. Maybe He's saving His tenderness for Linda. I rub the hard point of flesh in little circles that soon spread to my hips.

"That's it, you cock-teasing bitch," He snarls. "Show Me how you did it after driving Me crazy on dates and telling Me 'No!'"

Damn it! I wish I hadn't told Him about that! I think back to the times I couldn't even wait to get my clothes off before I started, skirt pulled up around my waist, rubbing myself through my panty hose and praying my room mate wouldn't come in and catch me. I didn't tell Him that I often did it before our dates as well to keep myself under control. I finally agreed to move in with Him when I couldn't stand to wait any longer. Being a virgin at twenty-seven (oral sex notwithstanding) was a strain before I met Him. He made it unbearable. I rub harder. My excitement intensifies.

"That's the way, bitch!" He says and strokes Himself. "Show Me how you did without cock for so long!" I loathe myself while I'm doing it but I can't help myself. I have to come so badly I can't think of anything else! I dig my heels into the rack and fight the unyielding ankle restraints in a vain attempt to pull my knees up a little. It's so hard to come with my legs stretched straight out like this!

He pulls my face toward Him. I open my mouth so He can fill it with His hardness. I close my lips around Him, sucking gently, swirling my tongue around. Maybe she's tighter than I am (although perhaps not for long, I think gleefully, picturing her with her knees raised, feet in the stirrups, screaming and straining to deliver a hopefully large headed baby) but I know I can do this better than anyone He'll ever be with. He lets me bring Him close to His climax, and then he withdraws to stand between the wings of the rack. He slips the head of His cock between my splayed labia. I wait in vain for him to thrust into me.

"Leave yourself alone and finish me!" He orders. I wrap my hand around His cock and try to pull him deeper.

"What did I tell you?" he demands. "I gave you permission to finish Me, not yourself!" He presses down on my thighs to keep me from moving while masturbate Him. He has no intention of letting me come with Him. I stroke His shaft and rub the head back and forth against my tightly stretched labia. He digs His fingers into my thighs, shudders and empties Himself inside me. He pulls Himself from my grasp, returns to the head of the rack, pulls my hand away from my stretched, burning opening and places it on His soft cock. I stroke it and press it against my lips. The mingled smells of my musk and His come are strong on it.

"Come on, get me off again!" He orders. "I want Linda to have to work for her little reward!"

I envelop Him and slowly restore Him to hardness. He pushes my hand away and replaces it with His. He hasn't forbid me to touch myself. I prod the clamp beneath my right nipple with my fingertips, wishing desperately that I could remove it! I brush my palm lightly back and forth over the swollen tips of my nipples. Little sparks of excitement squeeze past the clips to fill the insides of my breasts. I watch His face out of the corner of my eye. He's enjoying the sight of my mouth surrounding His cock. He isn't watching my hand. I slide it down over my belly and touch the inner surfaces of my labia. They're slick with His come, my lubricant and blood, extremely sensitive from the fresh piercings. I rub my swollen flesh around the rings with my fingertips. He's still staring at my face. I suck harder and slip my middle finger into my slippery opening, praying that He won't command me to stop. I prod the swollen, bumpy area above my urethra. He glances at my hand and smiles. He's been teasing me. He enjoys watching me; it excites Him tremendously. He's getting harder.

"Don't stop there!" He orders. Put the rest of your hand in there, too!" I place my fingers side by side and slide them in until my knuckles lodge against my inner labia.

He pumps His cock rapidly, carelessly hitting my chin with each stroke of His hand until a few drops of thick come leak onto my tongue. I suck hard and swallow, trying to quench my thirst with His spent passion. He's finished! He pulls His shriveled cock from my mouth and commands me to stop playing with myself; we both know I can't. I'm so close! My need is overpowering! I force my hand in farther and move against it. He seizes my wrist, yanks my hand out of my gaping vagina and restrains it over my head. I beg and cry while He buckles the restrain. He ignores my frantic pleading and watches with amusement the pelvic thrusts I am powerless to control. I pump my hips hard, trying to give myself the climax I need so desperately.

"Your disobedience and lack of will power are unbelievable!" He snarls.

I nod my head and whisper, "I'm sorry, Master. Please help me finish."

"You want more stimulation? Very well!"

I do my best to hold still as He presses the skin around my clit, exposing it. I feel cold metal against it, and then the clamp closes in a burst of excruciating pain. I bite down on my lip until I taste blood to keep from screaming in the hope that He won't jam the ball gag into my mouth again. He only leaves the clamp on for a moment but it seems like eternity. The pain is quickly replaced by even stronger desire. He reattaches the thongs to my nipple rings, stretching my breasts into sharp cones. I almost come from the sensation! Almost, but not quite. I'd come immediately if He'd enter me now.

"I suppose you're anxious to take a look...?" He removes the blindfold.

I blink away the tears and look at my reflection. Ornate black script covers my breasts, defiling their whiteness, nearly obliterating the delicate pinkness of my nipples: Slave Bitch. I stare at it until He turns off the light and closes the door, plunging the room into total darkness. The image of my ruined beauty burns brightly in the blackness. Despite everything, my need is undiminished. He lit a fire the first time He restrained and made love to me that nothing can extinguish. Just the thought of having sex in restraint is enough to make me wet. I lie open and empty, waiting for Him to fill me. He'll have His next orgasm with Linda and He probably won't return until he's ready for yet another, hopefully inside me. I'm going to have to wait for a long time but I have no choice. The rings stretching my labia are driving me crazy. I know I'll be able to come when He makes love to me. I always do, over and over, even as He slaps my face and commands me to hold back.

His salty come has made me even thirstier than before. I try to lick the glass again. It tips over, spilling its precious contents, falls to the floor and breaks. I scream in frustration.

I imagine her mocking laughter in the shattering glass. Damn her! She's keeping Him from me! I picture them together, his face between her widespread thighs, her mouth around his cock. Now He holds himself above her, kissing her lips, pressing Himself against the hard roundness of her (their?) pregnancy, or sweating against her back, taking her from behind to avoid her bloated belly. I see Him moving in her, rubbing her clit, massaging her milk-heavy breasts until He fills her. I start to cry in rage and frustration. My tightly stretched breasts are on fire and the labial rings burn relentlessly, focusing my attention on the yearning emptiness between them. My clit feels like it's twitching! I can't stand it! I scream and fight against the restraints until I can't do it any more. Oh, God! How long is He going to make me wait?





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