New Protocol

The thrill of a new partner is always such a high- the way his energy consumes a room, his smell enveloping you before his hands even touch you. The feel of new hands dancing along your skin, that first tentative crush of lips together. Last night, I played with a new partner- and it did not disappoint.

We had met for a drink previously- assessing each other, discussing kinks and life, seeing if there was any chemistry and alignment worth pursuing. I found him to be self-aware, philosophical, and experienced- my kryptonite trifecta. At the end of that meeting, we both decided that we wanted more. We spent the entire day of the scheduled playdate messaging back and forth, trading information on limits, safe words, protocol, etc.- I was given a few instructions to start out.

  1. Be waiting for him kneeling beside my bed, arms behind my back
  2. Have the toys that I am okay with him using nicely displayed
  3. Wear babydoll type lingerie, lace panties, hair down
  4. Address him as Sir
  5. Do not speak unless/until spoken to
  6. Maintain good posture
  7. Speak in the third person (ie. Sir, your sub needs to cum now)

Ever the good slut, I endeavored to fulfill all of his requests. I would say that my experience with protocol is average; it is certainly one of the elements of D/s that I am interested in pursuing further. The thing about protocol that I find interesting is that it is often very simple to follow, but sometimes not intuitive. It is easy to forget manners or posture when your mind is otherwise occupied, and I find it irritating to be called out on it. It presents an interesting challenge for me, which of course I can’t get enough of.

Now on to the good stuff.

I did exactly as I was told; purple lace babydoll, black lace panties, long, blonde, curly hair down my back. I took my time on my makeup, hoping (knowing) that it would be ruined by the end of the night. I chose my favourite perfume, and then headed to my bedroom to wait. The anticipation built as I knelt on the floor and worked to quiet the butterflies throughout my body- breathing deeply, eyes closed, listening to my heart beat. Getting as grounded as I can before someone comes to challenge me.

I heard the door open and close, and the lock latch into place. I heard him leisurely take his coat off, taking his time to climb the stairs. By the time he got to the top I was ready to jump him. We made eye contact, and I resisted the urge to greet him with words- my smile would have to do. He got settled and oriented in the room, browsing the toys I had left out, and adding a few of his own. My skin started to crawl- I just wanted- needed- him to break the ice…touch me, anywhere. He came over to me, running his hands through my hair, tilting my chin up before complimenting me on my appearance. “Good girl, you clean up so nicely,” he purred as he circled me. He came back to my face, leaning to smell my perfume before his lips touched mine.

I melted into his kiss, relieved and excited by the stimulation, and by the fact that the chemistry from our conversation definitely translated physically. Definitely.

He took his time, devouring and exploring me like a five-course meal. I remained kneeling, hands firmly gripped behind my back. His hands roamed my face, neck, and shoulders, down my hips, over my thighs- a whisper between my legs, so swift that I wasn’t even sure it had happened. Down my back, over my ass- briefly pulling the lingerie up to appreciate my panties. His lips followed, punctuating the trail that his hands left. He finally came to sit on my bed, levelling his gaze with mine as he teased my nipples through the thin lace. That earned him his first moan from my lips as my nipples hardened even more under his touch.

At long last he popped my breasts over the lace, allowing them to spill out into his hands. He kneaded, palmed, flicked, and pinched me into an absolute frenzy. He tested me, gradually pinching each nipple, offering a twist at the end to see when I would flinch. After a sharp moan of surprise, I was able to breathe through it- his growl told me that I had impressed him, which of course made me smug.

With one hand still on my breast, he moved his other between my legs. He told me that my panties wouldn’t come off until they were soaked. As he dipped a finger between my lips, he smirked as I moaned- “I guess that won’t take long.” He brought his dripping fingers to my lips, allowing me to suck my juices off them. He slid them back along my tongue, a gentle test. He held them in my throat, waiting for me to gag- I didn’t. He muttered his approval as he tested me a few more times before returning his fingers to my throbbing clit.

He rubbed my clit, fingers sliding ever so slightly inside me every now and then, until I was more than ready for release. He then stopped, bending me over his lap. I was still reeling from the edge that he had put me on when the first slap came down on my ass. “This isn’t punishment,” he said gently, “you have been a very good girl. I just can’t resist seeing what I can do to you.”

Another slap landed, and I moaned in pure ecstasy. He focused his full attention on my ass for quite a while- spanking, adjusting and moving my panties to hit different spots, pulling them tight between my lips to ensure that the lace was as soaked as my pussy. I could feel myself starting to drip as I relaxed over his legs, leaning into each sharp sting. I could feel his enjoyment radiating through his hands, and it fuelled mine. I was in such a state by the time he allowed me to sit back up on my knees, that when his fingers gently stroked my clit my body crumbled into him.

He pulled back again, this time coating my sensitive nipples in my juices before paying them more attention. He took his clover clamps out of his bag, my body tensing at the sight of them. His touch was impossibly gentle as he attached them to my nipples, a stark contrast to their inevitable bite. I winced and cried out, trying to breathe through the initial pain. I came close to calling it, but I didn’t want to disappoint him- my desire for praise allowed me to compartmentalize the discomfort, eventually pushing it away to focus on his finger that had returned to my clit.

I was desperate to cum. The pressure of his relentless finger on my clit paired with the pain shooting through my nipples was too much to bear. I began trying to think back to the protocol around such things- oh, right- third person. “Sir, your sub needs to cum!” I said urgently, followed by a chorus of “Please, please, please Sir” as I desperately tried to hold on. He toyed with me for a few beats, no doubt revelling in my desperation, until at long last he said “Please? Okay, sub- cum for me.”

His words were like a trigger- my body convulsed before my brain was even able to catch up. My orgasm washed over me, pulling me into him, lips hungry for kisses, finding his neck as my hips and legs convulsed around his fingers. My hands grasped at anything to steady myself, voice lost in the moment. His fingers eventually relented, coaxing the last few shudders out of me before his arms wrapped around my crumpled form, pulling me into him. I tried to regain composure, righting my posture and fixing my tousled hair, meeting his eyes with a look of what I am sure was surprise, gratitude, and adoration. The man is good.

He allowed me a short reprieve to re-center, not nearly long enough to catch my breath. Before I knew it, I was bent over the bed, still kneeling, ass pointed toward him as he finally removed my soaked panties. I could hear his approving murmurs as I tried to breathe my way to center, clamps digging into my nipples as I pressed into the mattress. The pain in my nipples dissolved as his finger entered me; my body sighed in relief as he penetrated me, gentle yet demanding. His fingers curled into my G spot, building a sizzle deep inside me that begged to be set free. I begged him to cum again, dutifully following his protocols, craving his praise for my obedience. He granted my wish easily, and my body bucked against him roughly before I pushed off the mattress, lowering my body further onto his fingers as he continued to pull my orgasm from me. I felt wetness squirt out of me, finally collapsing me back onto the mattress, the faint tug of the nipple clamps no match for the ecstasy that I felt.

Before I could get my senses about me, I heard him rummaging in his bag. I then felt the cool pressure of a glass dildo rub my slippery slit as he warmed me up for another round. I mentally applauded his relentlessness despite the apprehension that I felt in gearing up for another orgasm. When he slipped the glass inside me I shivered head to toe- it felt exquisite. He angled it just right, having felt his way with his fingers just moments before. It wasn’t long before his repeated strokes had me on the edge again. He chose to edge me a few times, delighting in my moans of protest and desperation. As I begged him to cum, he challenged me with a “Why should I? I don’t think you thanked me for the last one.” I groaned, irritated by the fact that I forgot my manners- and that he picked up on it. He let me stew in that for a while as he kept me on the edge. I quickly fixed my mistake, begging for forgiveness. He then told me that I was going to be allowed to cum, but as soon as I had I would need to show my appreciation and apology for my lapse in manners to his cock. I eagerly agreed, and my pleas were finally heeded. I came hard and fast- the dildo coaxed another wet stream out of me, making a mess of his hands as he fought to keep the dildo inside me.

As I came down, the throb in my nipples became more acute with each breath. He allowed me a moment to sit back up, while I made sure that my posture was straight despite my overwhelming desire to curl up into a ball. The chain from the nipple clamps dangled, and he pulled on it slightly to elicit something between a scream and a moan. He removed his pants, my eyes hungry for the first glimpse of his cock. His tall frame put his cock at exactly mouth level, and I got right to work showing my gratitude.

I started gently, licking him from tip to shaft, tasting the salty precum before wrapping my lips around him. I ran my tongue along him as I sucked, taking care to flick and swirl the tip of his cock as I moaned with enthusiasm. I felt him harden in my mouth, giving me the opportunity to take him deeper in to my throat, holding him until I needed to breathe. I made sure not to forget his balls, taking them into my mouth, soaking them in spit and feeling them contract in my mouth as I sucked. His hands tangled in my hair, not forcing my mouth onto him, but also not letting me pull too far away. His quiet expectation fueled me as I enthusiastically sucked him until he pulled me back by the hair.

He praised me, and then pulled again on the clamps, asking me if I wanted them to come off. I immediately answered yes, but then remembered that the removal would hurt ten times as much as leaving them on. Then again, the longer they remain on, the more the removal was going to hurt. I was stuck in a sort of purgatory, damned if I do and damned if I don’t. I finally repeated my consent with more assertiveness, and he removed the first one while I screamed in agony. The second one came off directly after, the rush of blood to my previously clamped nipples far too much for me to bear. I gasped and breathed through it, trying to re-center myself as his fingers gently stroked my screaming nipples. Each touch of his finger was like a flame- red hot and burning all the way through me. His touch eventually became comforting, coaxing the blood to fill my now swollen and delicate nipples.

I thanked him profusely, and in response he gagged me with a ball gag before pushing me back onto the bed, bent again at the waist with my ass pointed toward him. I worked my tongue around the gag, finding it to be tight and restricting, spit already pooling at the sides of my mouth. I laid my head on the mattress, steeling myself for another assault- and he did not disappoint. I felt the familiar glass dildo, smiling at the pleasure that it dealt. He didn’t let me enjoy it, though, instead opting to thrust it inside me a few glorious times, and then abruptly stop before he found a rhythm. He did this again and again, teasing me with what could be, never letting me realize it. The ball gag prevented me from adequately expressing my frustration, so I was left to inarticulate moans while I tried to grind myself onto the unreliable thrusts. He then stopped altogether, turning my moans into whimpers.

He went back to his bag of tricks, busying himself while he ignored my garbled pleas for stimulation. I finally felt the relief of the glass dildo back inside me, followed closely by the sound of him turning on my magic wand. I shivered in excitement, then gasping as I felt a second dildo enter me, this one vibrating. It took me far too long to deduce that he had attached the wand to the second dildo and was now penetrating me with two. My orgasm-addled brain finally caught up, and I was moaning in…agony? pleasure? both? I felt impossibly full, particularly when I felt the squirt of my orgasm before I had even asked permission to cum. Whether the ballgag relieved me of that expectation, or he was trying to cut me some slack in the punishment department as a new partner I don’t know, but mercilessly he didn’t elect to punish me for my failure to ask permission. My orgasm ripped through me, the sound of my squirt muddling the steady hum of the vibrator, intensifying an already electric moment.

I expected him to lay off on the sensation, giving me an instant to catch my breath, but he didn’t. He continued thrusting the two toys inside me, stretching me around them and filling me up to the point of overflow. I felt him sit on my back, leaning over my ass to get more leverage to keep hammering the toys into my soaked hole. My body was pure sensation, unable to process any other thoughts or feelings. I belonged to him in that moment, fully and completely.

From there, I honestly can’t tell you how many orgasms I had- frankly, I am surprised I was able to recount the moments so far so accurately. I became a cum-soaked (literally) blur of a person, unable to discern between sensations and orgasms. At some point I felt him stuff my panties inside me, adding a roughness to the thrusting as he pressed them into me with his fingers and the toy. The dildos were relentless, his strong arms keeping an impossible pace. The vibrator hit my clit every now and then with expert precision, adding an entirely new layer to the torture. I don’t know what made him stop, or even when he stopped, but finally at long last it was over.

My last orgasm was intense- there was screaming, of that I am sure. My spit through the ballgag had soaked the sheets, to say nothing of the mess that I am sure I made under me. He laid on my bed, watching me try to fight my way back down to earth. With a giggle, he said almost to himself, “Not sure if I mentioned, but I really like forcing orgasms.” I laughed, popping the ballgag out of my mouth and realizing that trying to fix my hair or otherwise compose myself was a losing battle. He invited me into his arms, holding me as I tried to right my ship.

His embrace was grounding, as was his voice as he talked to me. He told me that I had pleased him, which propelled my already high high into the stratosphere. I took my time coming down, stretching my used body and nuzzling deep into his embrace. His strong arms felt protective when a few moments ago they had been relentless.

We stayed like that for a very long time, talking about life, love, and the meaning of. We covered a lot of ground- he is quite unintentionally funny- he makes me laugh- like, belly laugh- which is a nice way to regroup after a scene. The talking eventually led to a very steamy makeout- he made me want to crawl out of my skin. His lips know exactly how much to take, his hands complement in a way that just melts me. He oscillated between tender care, with hands gently on my face and back, to more demanding need, hands gripping my chin or neck and body grinding into mine. I wanted to give him everything he demanded, and everything I had. This desperate desire to please led to my hand stroking his hard cock, which of course then led to him taking a handful of hair and guiding my head down between his legs.

I eagerly thrusted his hard cock into my throat, showing off as I relentlessly pushed him back over and over again. I then held him as long as I could, which proved to be long enough to get an appreciative moan from his lips. I had my fun, tasing, stroking, gagging, swallowing- soaking him in spit, smearing it around his balls. My hands and mouth worked together, making him squirm under me and thrust up into me. His hands held my hair, holding my face as he fucked it, moaning at my obedience in taking his cock as far as he wanted it to go. I could feel tears running down my spit-soaked face when he pulled me back to eye level, keeping my hand squeezing and stroking his cock as we made eye contact, kissing me before he thrust my face back down to swallow his cum.

He exploded into my mouth, salty sweetness coating my tongue before I swallowed it. I relaxed my mouth, gently sucking and stroking the very last drops out, feeling him melt into me as he came down.

The look of appreciation on his face when I came back for a kiss was the absolute crown jewel on an otherwise exceptional night.

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Published by aliddell106

30 something woman- writer of erotica, blogger of all things BDSM and beyond. Tall, curvy, blonde; intelligent, grounded, hilarious. High pressure job, experienced submissive.

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