Kinky Sex Link

From the archives of No Limits:

i have to say…there are people who are probably just naturally lucky. Unfortunately, i am not one of those people. Never have been…never will be. i know this…i accept this…i move on. Never was this more evident than on this day…this moment…

“Get a coin bitch!” Sir orders

“Yes Sir” i answer

i run to the coin bowl, and grab the first coin…a nickel. i bring the nickel back to Sir.

“Here are the rules cunt…I am going to flip the coin and you will guess how it lands. If you are right, you get an orgasm. If you get it wrong you will get your cunt whipped 20 times for each time you get it wrong.”

Now, let’s refer back to paragraph one of this entry. What does this mean…not only am i screwed…i am just plain fucked. i have a ‘fiddy fiddy’ chance of getting this right. How hard could that be.

“Heads or Tails cunt” Sir demands

“Heads Sir” slave answers

“Oh slave…i’m sorry, but it’s tails. Get on Your back cunt, legs up and hold Your ankles apart.”

“Yes Sir”

The crop connected with my cunt 20 times. i believe they were 20 hard strokes, but i believe that He would probably say differently. It didn’t take long for the tears to start flowing. It didn’t take long to begin the process of dancing an intimate dance with subspace. When 20 strokes was over, He allowed just a few brief moments for me to calm down, before i heard it again…

“Heads or tails bitch”.

“Heads Sir” i really thought that maybe if i kept the same answer, that, certainly it would be heads.

i watched the coin hit the bed…i saw Monticello, Mr. Jefferson’s home, and felt my heart sank. i laid back on the bed, and this time, He helped me out by clipping my wrist cuffs to my ankle cuffs (thank You Sir). i had endured 20 slaps with the crop already, so, obviously my cunt was already extremely sensitive. All i needed was that 21 slap, and i knew that i was in trouble. i think it was probably around number 30 that i felt Him smack my legs apart as i was closing them. Finally, He finished number 40, and i was an absolute mess.

Score: Owner = 2, slave = 0.

“Okay cunt…I’m rooting for you this time…Heads or Tails”

Would anyone like to wager a guess on what i picked?

“Heads Sir”…oh come ON…it could NOT have been tails 3 times in a row.

OH yes it could. i think even Sir felt bad that i kept getting it wrong. He didn’t even have to say anything, the second i saw Jefferson’s house…AGAIN…i immediately took my position, and awaited the next 20. Can you imagine my shock and surprise when it wasn’t the crop that was whipping my cunt…but that quirt.

i have to admit…by this point, there were no tears…and frankly, i was just PISSED. i took my 20 lashes with that quirt, without one tear, and a tremendous amount of anger. i wasn’t angry at Sir…that wouldn’t bode well for me…and frankly, i was already in a bad position. i was gone…i was in that place…where the tears wouldn’t come…even if i wanted them to. It was hard enough to take the pain of the crop on my cunt, but feeling that quirt…those two thin strands of leather, whipping my already terribly sensitive cunt, i thought, would have sent me into this insane state of pain…i think i had just resigned myself to absorb the pain that He wished to give to me.

He took a moment, after the 60th connection with my cunt. Maybe He felt i needed a break…maybe He thought that 20 lashes with the quirt not eliciting a single tear…or a single scream, or a single sob that maybe taking a moment would get me comfortable in the idea that maybe He was done with me. Perhaps, His arm was tired from swinging 60 times. i can only speculate…of course, what i REALLY think is that He was mind fucking me. Give the slave a moment to get her bearings…whisper in her ear that this can go on for the full 2 hours as He had planned…but make me think, just for a second, that He felt sorry for me.

We actually snuggled and cuddled for a few moments. It was just quiet time for us, and after several moments, i just said “Tails Sir”. i think He was surprised that i was ‘offering’ this to Him, rather than waiting for Him to ask me to pick a side.

i didn’t look at the coin this time. i just laid on my back, and, honestly, got myself into position. It’s the newest Yoga pose…it’s called upward slave pose….you can work the opposing muscles after you spend some time in downward dog.

“Oh my slave…” i am thinking this can’t be good.

Can you imagine my surprise when Sir climbed between my spread legs, and started fucking His slave. Does anyone say that the ‘fourth time is the charm?’ Honestly, i would have thought the last thing i could have possibly even wanted was to be fucked after being whipped 60 times on my extremely sensitive and tender cunt. He fucked me hard…and after the initial ‘He has to be ripping my cunt off of my body’ searing pain was finished, i couldn’t get enough of Him. He came, He saw, He conquered. His slave…she just came.

Again, i danced an intimate dance with the pain and pleasure. Obviously, i am sure it is no surprise to anyone that my cunt hurt…but it also shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone just how much i love and crave having my cunt fucked.

Now isn’t that the BEST way to end the game? Of course not…but i was on a roll…3 bad, 1 good.

“Heads or Tails cunt!”

Now…let’s look at the history. He has flipped the coin 4 times. 4 times it has been ‘tails’. Of course…what would i answer…

“Tails Sir”

This time i looked. It was as if it was in slow motion…like you see on the tv show, where there is only 5 minutes left in the show, and something AMAZING is supposed to happen. It landed on the bed, and i saw Jefferson’s head. As my heart sank, i heard Him say that He didn’t flip it good enough, so He was going to do it again. YES! A reprieve.

As the “Chariots of Fire” theme started playing again, and the coin moved in slow motion, we watched intently. It was late, and dark, so we had only very dim light and as the coin hit the bed, and i saw Jefferson’s head again, i knew the ‘party was over’.

Do you remember, when you were kids, one way to torture another kid was to lick three fingers and slap someone’s skin with the wet fingers? Do you see where i am going with this? He took the crop, and started wailing on my cunt…which was soaked with cunt juice, so it just added the extra sting. Again, i was already past the tears…and i took whipping number 61-80 with no tears, no screams, just breathing through the connection of the leather against my already abused, extremely wet cunt.

i thought i was not a very lucky slave…after my reflections on this…i think i may be the luckiest slave around.