Sharing a fantasy scene

Mar 1, 2022, 12:01 AM

Summary: A Dom and Sub play the quiet game. But really... everyone's a winner ;)
Title: The Challenge

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. There was a hint of a smirk spreading across his face, and she felt an instant clench in her stomach. She rolled her eyes, hoping the show of bravado would hide the swirl of excitement and nervousness inside her. “Give me ten minutes of silence and you win.”

They were sitting in his study on two ridiculously posh white leather lounge chairs. She’d been reading while he finished up some work, complaining every now and again how lame it was that he had to work on what was supposed to be their day off together.

She narrowed her eyes and studied his face for clues.

She waited for the other shoe to drop. With him, there was always another shoe. A catch. They had been playing their little games for years now, keeping meticulous records of their wins and losses. Anywhere from sprints across the forest to who could hold a handstand for the longest.

What started off as schoolkid rivalry eventually grew into something more —plus a lifetime rivalry that consisted of constant challenges by way of games. The winner got bragging rights, of course, and after being the loser of the last three challenges, she was getting a little desperate for a win. Not that she was a sore loser, but more being he was an insufferable winner.

Her punishments for losing had gotten progressively more humiliating. First, he made her grovel at his feet. Literally at his feet! The second loss left her playing the role of his maid for an entire weekend, complete with a costume that was really little else than an apron that stayed up by sheer force of will. The third loss…she didn’t even want to think about it.

She got cautious after that, biding her time until a challenge came up that she was almost certain she could win. She needed this. Really needed this. Her rope burns and red swollen ass were proof of that.

“—to me.”

“What?” She blinked.

He didn’t bother hiding his smirk when he repeated. “If you can stay quiet for just ten minutes, you win. But if you speak, scream, or moan, then you’re going to dress up in that maid outfit again and record a video for all our friends at the club telling them that you’re a little naughty girl who belongs to me.”

His eyes trailed down her body as he finished, and the way his voice lowered to a growl near the end made the blood rush between her legs. She swallowed and crossed her legs, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from her skirt to keep from meeting his eyes.

She tried her best to sound confident. “That’s it? Doesn’t sound like much of a challenge.”

He raised a brow. “Oh? We can make it fifteen if you want. Maybe twenty?”

“No,” she said. “Ten is fine.” Less time for him to pull any tricks, she thought.

“Then let’s begin.”

They both looked up to the large clock that hung above the double doors, marking the time.

They were six minutes in when it happened.

Up until then he was at his desk working, and she decided to do all the little things she knew annoyed him. Thirty seconds of tapping her pen on the glass coffee table earned her a frown, but no protests. Rearranging the items on his desk, eating chips with her mouth open, and kicking up the corners of the area rug resulted in heated glares, but still nothing. After that, she started feeling a little guilty for disturbing his work and so settled in with a sudoku, looking up at the clock every now and then to confirm the time.

As the minute hand ticked closer to the ten minute mark, she began checking the time more often, which made it all the more surprising when she turned back to her puzzle and instead found a face inches from hers.

Her hands went to her mouth in an instant, holding back a yelp. How the hell did he move so quickly and quietly without her noticing?

His hands were on the armrests of her chair, his legs on either side of hers, and he was leaning in so close she could smell his scent. He looked at her for a moment longer, eyes dark and heated.

Then he moved.

Hands went to her knees. Lips came in to grace her ear, tracing the line of her jaw then slowly down her neck. His hands, warm and rough, began to slide up.

The shift was so sudden she barely had time to register what was happening. She slapped her hands down, stopping his just as they slipped under her skirt. But with her hands blocking his, his mouth could still wander the curve of her neck, nibbling and licking her in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

Instantly she felt herself wet. Her heart raced. She clenched her legs together as tight as she could and pushed him away by the shoulders. He grabbed her wrists easily and brought them together, forcing her elbows in so her arms were pinned against her chest. He leaned in close to kiss her neck and she bit her lip to keep from moaning.

She struggled against him uselessly, trying and failing to push him back —he was playing dirty! Not fair! At least her legs were still together, he couldn’t possibly get to her like this.

As if reading her thoughts, his knee worked its way between her, giving him just enough room to work a finger through. She opened her mouth at the touch, a silent gasp in response to the sweet sensation of his fingers against her already wet sex forcing an arch in her back. She cursed at how easily he could do these things to her.

She chanced a look at the clock. Just under three minutes to go.

Desperately, she brought her legs up in an attempt to kick him away. The moment the pressure eased off her, she broke her hands free, turned, and crawled off the chair.

She could be anywhere in the house. She didn’t need to stay in the office. There was no rule about needing to stay in the same room together. If she could just get to the door—

She hit the floor hard, her knees and forearms catching her fall. She looked back to see the edge of the rug digging into her ankle. Shit. She pressed up to all fours, shaking off the pain and embarrassment at her own self sabotage.

In her moment of distraction tripping over the rug, he moved on her and she was done for. She found herself in a wheelbarrow position. She held herself up with outstretched hands while someone held her up below the waist.

She was helpless.

His tongue swirled around her sex, spit mixing in with her own juices, driving her mad. She was helpless. Utterly defensively in this position; legs up in the air and hands on the ground keep her from face planting. His hands on her waist kept her up, while also ensuring she couldn’t get away no matter how much she struggled. In fact, any struggling only resulted in more pleasure coursing through her.

She bit her lip hard to keep from moaning. She raised her head to the clock again. Just under a minute left. Just a little longer.

“Oh!” Her jaw dropped open as his tongue entered her, lapping deep and hard. At the same time his left thumb played with her clit as his hand played at her rim and opened her ass. He knew exactly what he was doing, and she didn’t even realize it when she was lowered onto the ground so her face could rest on the cool hardwood. Without the burning sensation in her arms, her body was free to feel nothing but pleasure.

Still, she struggled, testing to see if she could get away. As she moved her hips she was reminded of how useless it was. He had her trapped. She was at his mercy and the thought only made her wetter. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth as she released a deep guttural moan of pleasure.

His tongue went in deeper. In and out with an increasing pace. His fingers entered her deeper, toying with her ass and spreading her wider.

“Yes! Oh my God yes! Yes!” She writhed and bucked her hips. He held her firm, entering her deeper and deeper, sending waves of pleasure through her with every thrust. He was using her body, making her take everything he was giving her, knowing she couldn’t get away. Knowing she didn’t want to get away.

She was so lost in sensation she didn’t notice when he bent her over the arm of the lounge chair. Her panties were long gone and there was a deliciously wet something pressing against her. She looked over her shoulder as he brought a hand around her throat.

He squeezed her gently and whispered, “Who do you belong to, love?”

She licked her lips and moved back, feeling the head of his cock teasing her opening and desperately needing more. “Please,” she begged.

“Tell me, love. Then I’ll give you what you need. Now tell me,” he trailed off. He lowered to his knees and tongued her, trapping her firm against the chair. She didn’t bother to hold back her moans anymore, now openly gasping and begging for more. A hard slap on her ass cheek brought her back to reality just in time to hear him repeat his command. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“Fuck! You! It’s you. I belong to you! Now plea–ah!”

He was inside her immediately, fucking her fast and hard. In and out. Waves of ecstasy pulsing through her swollen sex. She groaned with every thrust, taking in every inch on his length, loving how easily it went in and out of her. She could feel her juices running down her legs, hear the slap of skin on skin on leather as he continued fucking her. He gripped the same armrest she was bent over, forcing himself deep inside.

She cried out, tightening around him as she came. Her body shook uncontrollably. Her knees buckled. Her back arched forward. Her eyes rolled back.

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. He continued fucking her at the same tortuous, unrelenting speed over the armrest until she came again.

The screaming moans were permanent after her second orgasm, and instead of letting her legs close in reflex to the hard cock thrusting inside her, he spread them open, forcing her to feel the sensation of him entering her even more.

She begged him, as she always did —she always loved begging at the end. The begging turned primal, no longer asking for more, but begged for mercy. She pleaded for no more, that she couldn’t take it, that she needed a break, that his cock was too much.

Complete control. She loved giving it up. She loved the feeling of being used. Loved the feeling of helplessness. Loved giving up her body to him. When he felt her tighten around him that third time was when he came. He filled her with everything he could, letting her sweet cunt empty him and drain him of every last drop. After a few last pumps, he pulled out and took in the view.

Her body remained bent over the chair, but her legs had drifted back to the floor —gently let down after he came. Her legs were squeezed together tightly, trembling as their joined juices flowed out of her. Whimpers of pleasure bubbled from her lips in between gasps of air. He took in the softness of her body, from her smooth back to the curve of her cheeks and her strong, beautiful legs, tattoo, feet and toes.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

He laughed, and walked in closer. He helped her upright gently and slowly till she was seated properly in the chair before kneeling down in front of her, pressing a soft kiss to one knee, then the other. “Are you okay, love? That looked like a nasty fall.”

She giggled, body still quivering from the multiple orgasms. “I’ll be fine. I can see now why you’re so paranoid about keeping the rug flat.”

“Right?” He rose to his feet and walked over to retrieve a nearby blanket, wrapping her up tightly before scooping her up in his arms. He smiled as he walked them down the hall. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable. How does a nice hot bath sound?”

She leaned in close to his chest and released a happy hum. “Music to my ears.”

~*~*~*~*~

Author note: Remember that no matter what type of scene you're doing, aftercare is important for both doms and subs. xoxo

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