What Happened Last Week

I hope you have been enjoying Rika’s Lair, my monthly column dedicated to thoughts and experiences  regarding power dynamics in Service-Oriented D/s relationships. Look up “Ms. Rika” in the search box  for links to all my articles in KinkWeekly! 

This week, I decided to share a true story. I often get asked what life is like for my submissive hubby. I’ve  talked about his birthday celebrations in the past…days dedicated to tweaking his fantasies for him. But  the following happened last week, which is kind of normal for us, and I thought I’d write it down in prose form for my readers.  

NOTE: I run the risk of hokey dialog, but I don’t know any other way of depicting what happened. The  exact words might not be these, but they do capture the gist – forgive me if it ends up reading like a  letter to Penthouse: 

I told him to kneel, and he dropped immediately. 

I didn’t find his compliance surprising. It was rather expected; the result of 15 days of edging and denial.  He was surely aching, although he never would complain. But when I “accidentally” allowed my hand to  brush his crotch, his involuntary gasp and sigh gave him away. I could almost see his knees buckle. I  figured I might as well help him out. 

I knew he was almost at the point of losing reason. I was stretching his self-control – testing his will to  remain obedient. Desperation is a regular state of mind for him, so I knew his resolve would win out.  Still, this was the perfect time to tighten the noose, so he was going to need to experience how well I  understood the condition I was cultivating in him.  

To increase desperation, make the sub talk.  

“Tell me what you want”, I looked down at him and he averted my gaze. I put my index finger under his  chin and lifted his face so I could stare deeply into his eyes. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from you”. 

“I’d like to please you. Make you scream.”, he said. “Make you scream” is our “lingo” for oral sex. I knew  that he was being “good” and making it about me – and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. 

“Is that all?” 

“No Goddess. I’d also like to come…please” he closed his eyes. 

“Please? Are you begging me?  

“Yes, Goddess. Please” 

I laughed a bit and played it up: “Do you call that begging? I don’t think you’re serious enough. Maybe  you haven’t gone long enough. Maybe a couple of more weeks?” I knew he was truly desperate and that  his brain was clearly unable to fathom reason. What a perfect time to make him panic! 

“No please…please. I beg of you. I beg you to please let me come. I can’t take any more of this…I mean, I  will if you want me to, but please don’t want me to!”

I turned sideways in front of him and lifted the bottom of my blouse from my pants. I watched as his  eyes sunk into my backside, loving the sleek look of my leathers. I swear I saw him tremble. 

“Kiss my ass while you beg. Maybe I’ll do what you ask!” – I actually do sometimes give him what he  wants, so it wasn’t an empty possibility. 

He fell into my body immediately. I felt his hands grab my hips and pull his face close to my ass. Then I  felt desperate kisses, creating tiny circles on my ass cheeks, moving around until finally his face buried  itself into the crack of my ass, pressing against the material of my pants. 

I pushed him back. “Where is your discipline? Slow kisses…gently…around my entire ass”. He was going  to have to control himself. 

He struggled to calm down. When I let him go, I felt his lips press against the cheeks of my ass, giving soft gentle kisses in concentric circles. 

“Don’t get my slacks wet!” Always making sure he stayed focused. Give him something else to think  about – in this case, keeping his kisses dry. Leather…focus…More desperation. 

“Oh…see? You CAN do it!”. I gave him some time to continue his efforts – testing to see if he’d tire. But  he continued to gently kiss. I knew he was struggling to keep his composure – binding his own hands  behind his back with his will. Exhibiting the self-discipline he knows I demand in hopes of gaining my favor. 

As he continued to kiss, I popped my hip out to the side, giving him a nice “S-Curve” to look at. “Tell me  what you want, slave”.  

Between his kisses, he sputtered, “Please, please…oh God…please, please let me please you!”. He was  regaining his rational mind. Trying to position his need in terms that would be about me, rather than his  selfish needs. I decided to test that a bit more. 

“Rub yourself”, I softly demanded. I heard him moan and shift and play with himself, careful not to  break the rhythm of his kisses. “You want to make me come? I might let you do that for me. Would that  make you happy?” 

“Yes…yes. Please, Goddess. Please”.  

I stepped away and slowly turned to face him. 

“Look at you! On your knees, playing with yourself like a schoolboy! Don’t forget to play with your balls  too…pull them down. Oh, You poor desperate thing. You ARE desperate, aren’t you?” 

He was going to have to admit it out loud. His own words are so much more powerful for driving him  into his subspace than any others. 

“God yes! Please. I beg you! I’m desperate!” His rubbing increased tempo. 

“And who made you desperate?”, I prompted his demise. 

“You…you made me desperate” 

“Me? You allow me to control you like that? Why?”

“Because it pleases you and I’m your slave.” 

I chuckled. Then came that perfect moment. 

“Please Goddess, may I please stop masturbating – I will come if I continue” 

Music to my ears! As instructed, as trained: The “Please Stop Me From Orgasming” rule is always in  effect. Even though he so badly wants to come, he exhibited perfect self-control. Rather than begging  me to come, he is instructed to beg me NOT to let him…even at his own hand. Total control because it’s  all in his mind. 

“Yes, slave. You may stop”, I calmly responded. 

He let go of himself and slumped forward, catching himself with his hand against the ground. “Thank  you, Goddess” 

I walked closer to him and straddled his head, squeezing it gently between my legs. “You’re welcome,  my pet!” I heard him inhale. I let him stay there for a moment, knowing that the smell of my leather  slacks would further drive his journey down. I stepped back. 

“Kneel up – hands behind your head” 

He assumed the position immediately, breathing heavily. A strand of precome stretched between the tip  of his penis and the small puddle on the floor. He was clearly ripe and ready. Poor baby. 

I walked over to the couch and motioned for him to crawl to me. I had him take my pants and  underwear down while I played with his hair. I let him kiss my belly and slowly work his way down to my  pubic bone. 

I put my hand on his forehead and pushed it backwards so he was looking up to me. Our eyes locked. “What do you want?” I asked again. 

“Oh God, please let me eat you!”, he was delirious, deliciously desperate and perfectly hard. 

I sat back on the couch and let him get close to me. I put my legs over his shoulders and shifted upwards towards him. 

“Take your time. Serve me well” I instructed.  

He was talented at oral sex when I first met him, and has been a very attentive student through the  years – a great combination. His only wish is to get as close to perfect for me as he can. I’m more than  willing to help him, although I openly admit, there are times when he does things I can’t explain – but  want again! 

He gave me two orgasms: The first a slow, long, drawn out, warm-me-all-over come; the second far  sharper and more sudden. It was all I could do to let him maintain connection when the second one crested. 

I looked down at him. He was so content and yet, so wanting. His erection had not faded throughout. I wanted that inside of me.

“Put it in”, I directed. He quickly slid into me. I was so open and ready. He slumped down against my  chest, kissing and nuzzling my neck as he thrust against me. We were hitting a rhythm and I could feel  his desire. I love that animal drive. 

He was getting close, I could feel him swelling inside of me. Then, dutifully, he offered his ultimate  submission, yet again: “Please let me stop”, he groaned out. 

I considered the moment while he hung on the edge – awaiting permission to not come; I just LOVE that  irony. I let him stew for a moment, well-aware that I was playing with fire. I could feel him slow down,  just a bit, holding himself just short of going too far, but not wanting to stop without permission. So  dutiful a servant, even under such desperate conditions. 

“OK…you can stop”, I “relented”. 

I could feel him collapse inside. I watched as he delicately and carefully stopped all motion, allowed  himself a moment to recompose, and then slowly and carefully, pull himself out. 

“And?” I inquired. 

“Thank you, Goddess”, he mustered, trying to sound as sincere as possible. I’m sure the word “Bitch” was on his tongue tip at that moment – so I gave him some leeway despite him seeming a bit insincere. 

“You’re welcome, puppy!” I rubbed his hair as he slipped down to a low kneel. “You can finish me now”,  I leaned back and pulled his head once again to my pussy. He ate me deep and hard, his desperation  driving him beyond. “Oh…you serve me SO well, slave”, I gave him encouragement and recognition. He  just moaned and delivered. It was heaven. 

The final orgasm was another long and warm, full-body toe-curler. By the time we were done, I could  tell that he was getting back into full sub-mode; no longer disappointed that he didn’t orgasm, but  rather loving the fact that the steady ache in his groin was making his head so much more subby. 

It was time to give him a treat – something that he loves that will help him firmly establish his sub space…just for him. For my sub, the best gifts have to do with my feet. I stood up next to him, stepped  into a puddle of his precome so that it squished into my toes, and lifted them to his mouth so he could  clean them. I repeated the process until all the puddles were just wet-spots. He dove into this task with  enthusiasm and gratitude. 

When he was done, I stood him up and gave him a big kiss. Then I told him that I was going to take a  shower and that he should put on some shorts, run my water, and turn the towel-heater on. Then he  could go make dinner. 

He thanked me (quite sincerely) and went off to the bathroom. 

As I readied myself for my shower, I considered how lucky I am to have such a diligent and devoted  submissive. I know he feels lucky too. For him, there’s no telling how many days of this type of close-call  T&D I will put him through. Sometimes I let him come right away – other times, this type of “scene” could last weeks. He never knows. Sometimes, I don’t even know until the moment comes.

Last week, he “suffered” for three more days of edging (a total of 18 days), before I finally allowed him  to orgasm onto my feet (and eat it up). Then I gave him 10 minutes to recover and then it was a night of  massage and service – right back “on the horse” – no slacking off, just because the desperation is gone. 

This is our life together. We both couldn’t be happier. I’m glad to share a little episode!

 Ms. Rika is a lifestyle dominant, educator, and author; living in the suburbs of NYC with her  husband/slave. She has written several popular books on her approach to adding Dominant-Centric,  Service-Oriented D/s to relationships. You can find her books (in both print and eBook formats) at  Lulu.com (http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/msrika), or at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, the iStore, Books-A Million, Kobo.com, or anywhere books are sold. Search for “Ms. Rika”. Write to me at  Ms_Rika@hotmail.com