Probation Officer #155: Bowre of blisse 19

cock strokeWe kissed, and Sa’afia reached down to hold and stroke my cock. I was semi-hard, and in her hand I got harder. But I was falling asleep. 

Eventually I took her hand off my cock, and kissed her fingers. “Good night, little love.”

Sa’afia looked at me, and kissed my nose, then my throat. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Oh, you will. Sleep tight.” 

Although I thought I was more tired than Sa’afia, she fell asleep first. I lay beside her, reaching over to cup a breast in one hand, and listening to her breathing. 

Perhaps twenty minutes later, well after midnight, I heard a sound from the living room. Ana had dropped something, or The Saragoza Manuscript had fallen off the covers. It occurred to me that perhaps the sound-proofing was not as good as I’d thought it was, but then I’d only caught that at the very edge of my hearing.

A few minutes later I heard a cry, half suppressed. That was Ana: was she okay? Then a grunt. Oh. That was Ana, coming. 

I smiled, more or less benevolently, and made myself not think about quite a long list of things concerning Ana, particularly avoiding her body (the breasts she flashed at me) and her sexual responses. But I was glad she’d come: she’d had a rough day. I kissed Sa’afia’s neck, and she sighed, comfortably, but did not wake. 

Probation Officer #154: Bowre of blisse 18

sprawlSa’afia bounced when she hit the bed, and sprawled on her back, ungainly and astonished. She said, “whooo!”

I put my knee on the bed and slid my hands under her ass. Sa’afia lifted her legs for me. She hoped I intended to lick her cunt. Perhaps for a long time. 

But I pushed her ass further up the bed until her head was near the wall. Then I followed her, till I had both my knees on the bed. I gripped her cunt hard, squeezing the lips. It had to hurt a little, though it was possible that in her current state of mind and body Sa’afia couldn’t feel anything as pain. 

said, as one does from time to time, “Whose is this cunt?”

Sa’afia frowned. She didn’t know what I meant. The question is a cliché these days, though it’s a good one. She just hadn’t heard it before. She thought, and after a short pause her brow cleared. “Yours. Sir.”

“Good. Good girl. And damn right.”  

bedI held her labia hard, and kissed her belly to let her know that things were well. Then I licked her clitoris, while my fingers were still hurting her lips. Sa’afia gasped, and then moaned a little: it had hurt. But I continued, squeezing and then licking, for a few minutes, and her reactions changed. She accepted that rhythm.

The pain wasn’t unexpected any more, though it was still intense. It was a certainty, like my tongue returning to her clitoris after I’d hurt her. She rocked under me, her stomach undulating. Later she said, “please”.

I put two fingers in her, then three, still licking. Sa’afia closed her thighs on my face, rubbing herself on my stubble. I tried to say, “Come, pretty darling,” but it was hard to talk. Anyway, Sa’afia screamed, and rocked, her body tensed, and screamed again, louder. Some instinct told me not to stop, and she screamed twice more, a little less dramatically. Then she let her head fall back onto the bed, and spread her arms out. 

I climbed up and kissed her breasts, then her cheek with my wet face. I said, “how’s my darling?” I suppose I expected praise.

Sa’afia sighed happily and said, “oh, my little man.” But she said it lovingly, so it would have to do.

Probation Officer #153: Bowre of blisse 17

I stood while Sa’afia knelt, as we’d said we would. I was still wearing my suit, while Sa’afia was naked, holding onto my thighs for affection and support, with her mouth on my cock, earnestly sucking. Her face rubbed on the woollen hems and zipper of my fly.

suckingMy hand rested on the back of her head, still holding her hair. That controlled her movements, though I mostly let her choose how deeply she took my cock, moment by moment, and set her own rhythm. But sometimes I pushed her head onto me, and held her until she showed discomfort, for the pleasure of making her feel compelled. 

I don’t think anyone can be truly unhappy in my situation. But I was finding it quite lonely up there. 

Sa’afia was fully engaged with my body. With my cock in her mouth, my hand on her head,  my thighs to hold and lean on, and her ass and upper thighs glowing warm with the stripes I’d given her with my belt, she was surrounded in me. I was all around her.

But Sa’afia wasn’t all around me, only my cock. She was doing her best, and she had every right to expect to be appreciated, but I wasn’t going to come.

I pulled on her hair. Sa’afia made a questioning noise. “Up. Get up, girl.” 

Sa’afia stood, and looked, questioning, in my eyes. She was wondering if she’d disappointed me. If she thought she had, she’d want to be punished. That’d be fine, and fun, usually, but there was still the problem of not wanting Ana to hear. I whispered, “I don’t want to come  too quickly, girl.” Sa’afia smiled, but only for a second. I pushed her onto her back, on the bed. She squawked, a little too audibly.

Probation Officer #152: Bowre of blisse 16

“Ah.” Part of me wanted to raise the belt, order Sa’afia to hold position, and carry on with her strapping. Sa’afia had been keen to show her marks to Ana, and Ana knew exactly how her cousin got them. Sa’afia had apparently told her in considerable detail. So she could hardly claim to be bashful now. I wanted to say something along those lines and continue Sa’afia’s leathering. It was my job to be immoveable.

Then I said, “Ah,” again. Maybe I didn’t want Ana to hear Sa’afia getting strapped, or fucked. Life with Ana was difficult enough. Worse, I didn’t know the effect it would have on the balance of power between Sa’afia and Ana. That was the sort of thing I wanted to leave alone. 

And if I continued, there was no way round it: I’d enjoy Sa’afia’s embarrassment. That meant I’d be using Ana as a participant, if indirectly, in the sex between Sa’afia and me. That seemed bad, a bad thing to do.

I pushed her head down so she looked down at her body. “You should have thought of that before. Keep still.” But I said it quietly. I gave her three more strokes, but across the backs of her thighs. They were meant to hurt, and I was sure they did, but the belt didn’t make the pistol shot sound it made when it landed on her ass.

The sound couldn’t be audible out of the room, unless Ana had her ear to the door. And Sa’afia should be able to feel that she’d been been mercilessly treated.

kiss whipSa’afia was puffing silently, with the effort of not moaning or crying out. Those stripes on her thighs had hurt her.

I put the belt to Sa’afia’s mouth. She kissed it, and glanced at me. She was happy. I said, “Now.”

Sa’afia dropped to her knees. 

Probation Officer #151: Bowre of blisse 15

Sa’afia said, “Nnnnnn,” again. Her eyes had closed and her bottom lip was between her teeth. I still had her left arm gripped above the elbow. I swung the belt down, medium hard, letting it slap diagonally down her arse. The tip slapped at her right hip, making her gasp.

It took nearly a second for her to decide that it hurt more than she’d expected.Her ass shook, like a horse trying to throw off its rider. I watched in admiration until she came back into position, thighs a little apart, ass arched up.

strapI spoke to her, then, in the voice that a man uses to calm a skittish horse. “Good girl. That’s good. Now hold still, darling. I’m going to hurt you.” Nobody talks to an independent woman like that, and that was one more way of emphasising that she wasn’t free. I turned the buckle over twice to shorten the length of belt, and swung it again. It smacked across her arse, but this time the tip landed flat across her right buttock. Sa’afia made a sound that was part pain, with a trace of luxury in it. This stroke had  had hurt, but in a good way. She kept still.

I applied more strokes, slowly making them harder, until I was getting raised marks with each one.

 But there was something not quite right. Sa’afia should by then be floating, riding a sea of endorphins and lust, but she looked uncomfortable. It may seem odd to worry about the comfort of a woman being thrashed with a length of thick leather. But she should have been calm and happy with the pain I was giving her, and just then she wasn’t. I stopped. Sa’afia swallowed. “Jaime. Jaime?”

I took a step forward so my body touched hers, and held her hip and thigh against my legs. “You okay, love? What’s the matter?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry, sir. I can’t. It’s loud. Your belt. It’s so loud. I don’t want Ana to hear.”