The Diary Of A Submissive: A True Story by Sophie Morgan Page B

guaranteed for me afterwards. Oh yes.
    So on the way up the stairs I asked him if he wanted me to suck him. He smiled. ‘I think I could be convinced by that. But I had something else in mind first.’
    Before I could even begin to guess what he was thinking of, he’d grabbed my wrist and pulled me off-balance on to the bed. While I tried to right myself, or at least get myself in a slightly more comfortable position, he yanked my arm into the small of my back with one hand and began pulling down my trousers with the other. By the time I’d stopped struggling and become resigned to the fact I wasn’t going to be able to move from the position he wanted me in he’d already grabbed the hairbrush off the side table and the sound of the first strike on my arse was echoing around the room.
    The rhythm was relentless. Sometimes his punishments were light and playful but this was anything but, eventhough it was only a few hours after he had used his belt on me. I don’t know how long it went on, I was just focused on riding the waves of pain.
    By the time he paused to run his fingernails and then the bristles of the brush along the burning red marks of my arse, all I knew was that my face and my cunt were both wet. He pulled me back up, running his hand along my slit as I stood in front of him on wobbling legs. Chuckling, he pushed his finger into my mouth for me to suck it clean, pointing out that for all my tears and whimpers as he punished me I was now tasting the proof I enjoyed being treated that way. I blushed as I licked my juice from him, hating his smugness – and the fact he was right.
    Once his finger was clean he ordered me to strip and then when I was naked he pushed me to my knees. He took one of my nipples in each hand and pinched them, mauling them between his fingers until I was biting my lip to avoid crying out. Finally he tired of the game and undid his trousers. I set on him like I was starving.
    But he wanted control of everything. He tangled his fingers fully into my hair and began fucking my face at his speed, indifferent to my stinging scalp and struggle to breathe as he dragged me up and down his cock. Then suddenly, his hands tightened and he pulled me away from his crotch.
    ‘I’m not coming in your mouth.’ I looked up at him in confusion. ‘I’m going to come on your breasts. And as soon as I have you’re going to lie back on the bed and I am going to do what you’ve been gagging for me to do all day. I’m going to make you come.
    ‘But there are rules. If any of my spunk drips off you and hits the bed I’m going to stop what I’m doing, immediately. I’ll make you get dressed and you can go home wet, whimpering and unsatisfied. Do you understand?’
    I nodded, watching intently as he ran his hand up and down his cock. And then he came, in long milky spurts across my breasts and stomach. Taking a step back he smiled at me. ‘Well what are you waiting for?’
    I sank carefully to the bed, gasping at the pain of lying on my still throbbing arse.
    ‘Does it hurt?’
    I nodded, any pretence at hiding it impossible.
    He smiled again as he grabbed my arms at the wrist and moved them to make me hold the headboard of his bed.
    ‘Shame. Just remember what happens if you spill any.’ He ran a hand along my inner thigh and I trembled. ‘I have a feeling you’d rather not go home frustrated.’
    Then he started fingering me and I was lost. He ran his fingers along my slit and then pushed them deep up inside me. He finger fucked me relentlessly, while grinding my clit with his thumb. I was moaning and squirming in pleasure but every movement caused zinging pain as my arse brushed against the sheet. The sensations merged until the pain and the pleasure and the humiliation and the sheer sexiness of it was all one, my loud moans shattering the silence.
    Tom stopped for a moment, taking a step back to look down at me, staring intently. I blushed, wondering what kind of picture I must make lying