Tuesday, 29 April 2008

Under My Thumb

It's playing on the CD as she sits there, naked and cuffed to the chair.

'Under my thumb
The girl who once had me down
Under my thumb
The girl who once pushed me around'

He laughs proprietorially: 'Not any more though, eh...'

His hands rubbing ice around and across her breasts as he leans over her from behind. The medals on his white uniform, cold and hard, digging into her shoulders as his weight holds her shivering body down. Observing the pink nipples stiffen and protrude, the goosebumps erupting on her flesh.

'I think it applies, don't you?,' he breathes into her ear whilst his strong fingers squeeze the proffered buds and he starts to sing along.

'A siamese cat of a girl
Under my thumb
Shes the sweetest, hmmm, pet in the world'

The crisp fabric of that white uniform brushing her shoulder, medals scraping her cheek, whispering into her hair: 'her eyes are just kept to herself'.

He walks in front of her, straddling her lap, cock bulging through the tight white pants. Dragging her chin upwards with his fingers so that she cannot keep her gaze down, forcing her to look at the effect her predicament has had, despite his apparent indifference.

'I think I'd like to undo those cuffs and bend you over this chair and slide my fingers into your juicy cunt from behind. Unzip and hear you moan that you want me to take you.'

'You want me to ask for it? But surely you're in such a dominant position...?'

Mick Jagger answers the question for him:

'It's down to me, the way she talks when she's spoken to
Down to me, the change has come
She's under my thumb'

'You know I'm going to fuck you but you're going to beg me to hurt you. Plead with me to punish your cunt.'

'Ah, one of the 'c' words. Are you asking me to use that particular 'c' word?'

'Yes...use the fucking word. Prove you're my English bitch... my slut. Use it!'

She sighs resignedly and in her clipped British accent hisses:

'I need something in... my... cunt...'

It's not enough. He senses the latent defiance, releases one arm and drags her around the back of the chair, driving her head downwards with one hand as the other forces its way into her, spreading the fingers until she's gasping at the orgasm that rips through her.

Letting go of her head, he spanks his palm roughly and repeatedly across the exposed cheeks all the while singing along to the last vestiges of the song:

'She's under my thumb
Say, it's alright.

Take it easy babe
Take it easy babe
Feels alright
Take it, take it easy babe'

Her breath is coming in great sobbing gasps as his fingers drive deeper inside her. She can feel his cock throbbing through his trousers against the bare raw skin but for the misdemeanour he will most definitely make her wait. Make her beg.

He needs to hear her ask for it - in spite of herself... and they both know it. It is the culmination of their courting. The finale to their foreplay.

But it takes a while for her to recover from the assault to even be able to speak. The words come, slowly at first, but gathering momentum. Regaining her confidence:

'I want to just reverse back and impale myself on you. Bounce up and down on that big hard American cock. Own it. Right now it belongs to me. Mine. Every pulsating inch of it.'

It is more than enough to satisfy his pride. Dragging at his fly, spreading the lips of her cunt wide open and spearing into her, ploughing, pillaging, grunting.

'Tell me to fuck you harder. And then say it. Say the word... Come for me and say the word!'

His hands are on her hips, urgently yanking her down onto him. Piling into her harder and harder.

Her shrieks encourage him onwards: 'Fuck me, fuck me, hurt me! I am your whore... your bitch... all the things you have made me.'

And as her taut, quivering body clenches tightly around him, she screams it. The most important 'C' word. His name.

The acknowledgement of his possession via that single, longed for syllable drags out his semen in great shuddering spasms and just before he collapses onto her, she hears him whisper: 'My very own slut, the one I cherish.'

There it was, another 'c' word. Carefully chosen to avoid one more open to misinterpretation. To go with the many that already defined them.

He was the man who would force his way into her life and fuck her mind, before reclaiming their connection in a conflagration of all-consuming, commitment-free passion and then disappear again just as suddenly.

He confused the hell out of her.

And that seemed to be just how he liked it...


Vi said...

Now I have that song stuck in my head. Thanks! (good song for mind fm!)

Ro said...

As it happens I spent far too long listening to that song yesterday. At the time it was just a song that I liked with no particular meaning attached to it ... I shall never, never, never be able to hear it again without thinking of this :)

Stratocast said...

I must say, you really know how to write a great story! I love this one! The "make you say it" thing is always something I've enjoyed. Great song choice too.

Loving Annie said...

holy moly that made me horny !!! The weird thing is, I don't like pain in real life. But the hint of reading about it drives me crazy with lust...

having my cake said...

Vi - LOL, it's a real ear worm isnt it

Ro - *flutters eyelashes* Im flattered :)

Stratocast - Thank you

Annie - I never thought I liked pain much either but the step across from enjoying the frisson of reading about it to enjoying it for real is a small one... in the right circumstances

nitebyrd said...

Great story, Cake! That song will never be the same for me. A little pain with pleasure is delightful.

Effortlessly Average said...

mmmmm I so need a shower now. I'm also starting to think American women aren't nearly so exciting as I'd thought. heh. I wonder how much I can get airfare......

Will said...

Sexy! What a great piece of writing.
Love the Stones song too!..perfect fit..


Anonymous said...

Sounds like he knows precisely what she wants...even more than she does.


Anonymous said...

So many good C words in this story. Sexy.