Dominatrix Sex Story
"It's All in the Timing," a delectable Dirty Martini story by Ralph Greco Jr.
Burlesque, by TC Reiner (prints available at ObsessionArt.com)
“...You don’t come in three minutes…” Roxanne said, twisting her kitchen timer and placing it on Steve’s side table. “…you don’t get to come the entire night.”
“And you’ll get this,” the willowy black woman added, fingering the thin rattan cane resting across her upturned palms.
Spreading her legs wide, Roxanne’s mini skirt hammock-ed between her dark thighs, as she sat ramrod-straight on edge of the ottoman. Her thick, purple lips were pursed and shining. Her deep brown eyes were opened wide and set on Steve’s popping erection. She allowed just the hint of a smile as she stared at the man standing naked across from her.
The timer ticking, Roxanne’s stare, the sight of the cane resting across her hands, her creamy chocolate thighs teetering up high there in her three-inch spikes; the full effect was the most unnerving sight Steve had ever witnessed…and with Roxanne he had witnessed aplenty this past year. Though woefully turned-on-as he had been since Roxanne had knocked on his door, thrown off her coat, revealed her outfit—and that fucking cane and timer!—standing before his girlfriend now, Steve wasn’t so sure he would be able to come given the pressure to do so in the time allotted, all under his girlfriend’s disconcerting stare.
“Two forty-five,” Roxanne announced as Steve willed himself out of his shock. Shit. Fifteen seconds had already gone by while he stared, considering, trying to figure—as he always did—this sexual demon he was dating.
He arched his back and repositioned his hand on his cock.
“You are not going to like the cane, Steve,” Roxanne said. “It really hurts.”
“Roxanne,” Steve mewed, trying with all his might to get his cock harder.
He bet that fucking thing hurt, though how Roxanne knew, he wasn’t so sure. As with most things with Roxanne, Steve liked not being sure of what she knew, how she knew it, or what she was about to teach him from her obviously vast, often times kinky, sexual experience.
“Don’t you find me attractive anymore?” she teased and wiggled her round butt in the chair.
Thrusting her crotch out to her man even further, the bottom of Roxanne’s nearly non-existent skirt lifted up her thighs. She was a whisper away from being exposed completely. Steve knew all he had to do was dip his head to get the full view being denied him.
Dangerously attracted to this black woman, Steve could never really take his eyes off any naked part of Roxanne when she presented it to him. It was mostly for this reason, the obsession Steve had with Roxanne’s sexuality, with her mind, with her mind where it concerned her sexuality, that Steve had entertained the amount of kinkiness he had experienced so far with her. (Christ, just think of the kind of twisted mind Roxanne had to have to not only think of this scenario but to actually have the premeditation to pack her own kitchen timer to come over!) In all his thirty-one years, the stocky guy had never been so adventurous, and it unnerved Steve (as much as it aroused him) to think he might not be up for the challenge of what Roxanne might next present him.
This is why Steve had let the more submissive part of his sexual need flourish here with a girl so obviously voracious and confident. This past year had been a whirlwind for him, finding a girl like Roxanne who would play the dominant (and like playing the dominant) brought his ache for submission to the fore. He had dabbled a few times in the past, with girlfriends he knew indulged him for his sake or tittered while spanking him, but Steve knew Roxanne was as hot to dom him as he was to being domed.
“I thought this would have been easy for you,” Roxanne continued. “I mean, don’t you jerk off like ten times a day as it is?”
She chuckled, sitting back. Steve huffed and humped his hand.
“I can’t believe you can’t do this,” she said, then looking to her right at the timer, she added: “Two minutes. I don’t know if you’re gonna make it.”
“Fuck!” Steve growled, managing just his thumb and middle finger on either side of his cock, just below the head, the one position he knew would provoke a release without fail.
This time, though, his cock merely stayed heavy and thick. The vision before him, mixed with the potential pain, and all backed by the soundtrack of that damn timer ticking was clearly over-stimulating.
“Why…why are you do…do...doing…”
“Why am I doing this?” Roxanne interrupted her jerking boyfriend.
“A minute fifty, by the way,” she added.
“Roxanne!”
“Leave it to you, I give you all this stimulus and still you want a reason,” Roxanne said through her smile.
The tall girl lean forward then, elbows on her spread knees, the cane rolled to the edge of her fingers, holding the dangerous implement out like a shelf between she and her man.
Roxanne looked through Steve as much as at him over the next few fleeting seconds. Not able to recall the exact moment when she had thought up this particularly devilish torture, nor the reason behind it, Roxanne knew that her motivations, her reasoning and thought processes, were what got to Steve the most. If she had learned nothing else in the past year, she had learned that her curly-haired, hung man needed to be dominated from the inside out, to have his brain engaged with what she was doing, whether she was respectfully requesting Steve not masturbate for an entire week (“Respectfully Requesting” is actually what they had called that game) or she was spanking him over her knee in her sister’s bedroom as a party continued just outside the door. Steve wanted the reasons for why he was being punished, but mostly what he wanted, ached for, craved beyond the feel of the sting of her lash or her coaxing a butt plug between his cheeks, was to know that Roxanne was as turned-on as he was with whatever she did or made him do.
Steve was truly a sub, his feelings and arousal contingent upon how much his dom was being aroused. And though Roxanne got mighty wet when considering the next devilish plan for her man, she grew wetter still witnessing Steve’s beautifully thick cock rising to her torture.
“I just felt I had to step-it up a level,” the wide-faced girl said to the question hanging in the tight air of the small yet comfortable den. “And I really wanted to see you sweat it out.”
Roxanne refocused her stare, sat back, and looked over to the timer.
“Looks like about a minute fifteen,” she added and took the cane in one hand, pointing it vertically to the floor.
“Shzza, Shnizz,” the cane sounded as Roxanne sliced a wrist-flick of space directly in front of her.
“Mmm, listen to that!” she said, smiling as wide as she had as of yet. “This is gonna leave welts.”
“Fuck,” Steve huffed, jerking faster; he could feel his balls tightening, his cock purple now, veins pumping. If he could just concentrate and come, come…
“Tick, tick, tick,” Roxanne sang. She sat back once again and pulled her skirt up so it bared her completely.
“Ahh hhha,” Steve cried as he began a rhythm he knew would cause him to squirt.
Staring at and into his girlfriend’s glistening, bald, spread lips, Steve rolled up on tiptoes. Feeling that unmistakable lurch right under his belly button—that rumbling that usually signaled an orgasm was imminent—Steve spread the palm of his free hand and pressed it against that space.
“Forty seconds, Steve.” With this, Roxanne stood, so quickly Steve actually almost took a step back.
“You’re gonna remember that sound a long time, I bet,” she said looking back at the timer. She took six clicking-heeled steps to Steve and towered over him on his right side, looking down at his suffering purpling cock.
“The timer’s gonna go off soon,” she cooed, pushing up into Steve.
Keeping her skirt lifted, Steve felt his girlfriend’s slick, bare pussy squish against his shaking thigh.
Artfully draping the thin cane down his chest, Roxanne snuggled closer, dangling the pinpoint end of the thing right next to his cock.
“Roxanne!” Steve cried, writhing there, pulling, shucking; he just couldn’t come!
“I think it’s like fifteen, maybe twenty,” she said, feigning looking over at the timer. “Do you have any idea how bad a cane hurts? I mean I know you’ve taken a paddle and a hairbrush. Remember when we broke that wooden spoon on your ass…”
“Roxanne,” Steve whimpered, holding on, rolling up on tiptoes again.
Tick, tick.
“Are you gonna make it?” Roxanne asked, pressing up into him even harder.
He could smell her; that slight berry scent she always wore, mixed with her musk. He could feel her heavy tits poking his side, feel the pinpoint heat of her pussy as she humped his leg.
But still…tick, tick.
“Steve…” Roxanne cooed, running the side of the cane up and down his body. “Steve.”
Pre-cum, blessed, beautiful, clear and sticky pre-cum appeared out the head of Steve’s cock.
Tick.
“Steve.”
“Oh, God.”
Tick.
“You’re not gonna make it,” Roxanne teased.
“Fuck!” Steve yelled clenching his ass.
“Bthling!”
The timer brayed, Roxanne humped and trailed Steve’s leg, and a fount of white cum jettisoned out of the head of Steve’s suffering cock.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Steve sighed, milking himself down to the wooden floor for all he was worth. Roxanne held tight to him and she too began to shake, clutched tightly against the upper part of the side of his leg.
Steve could feel her pussy throbbing as Roxanne clutched round him tighter.
“St…Steve,” she said, riding a shallow, building orgasm.
“Fuck, man,” Steve sighed, slowing the pumping on his cock, leaning into Roxanne just enough to afford her a better purchase.
“Steve!” she growled, her orgasm just cresting. She dropped the cane.
“Steve. Steve.”
Steve coaxed the last bit of fluid from his red head and pressed into Roxanne and moaned as his girlfriend seemingly finished and moaned in reply.
“Wow,” Roxanne said, finally coming down off her little crest. “We…we could not have timed that better,” she continued, looking down with Steve at the puddle on the floor. “Wow, look at all that.”
For the next minute the couple clutched each other and took in the effects of the entire escape (three minutes in the making as it had been.)
“You really were gonna use that, huh?” Steve asked, finally turning his head to kiss Roxanne.
She released him from the lip-lock. “I still might,” she said. “Now that you came, the next time is gonna be ever harder.”
“You are evil,” Steve said, releasing his cock.
“And you love it,” she replied, peeling off of him.
Cleaning up and gathering themselves respectively, Roxanne and Steve met back on the couch and put their legs up on the ottoman. They snuggled together until Roxanne finally looked up and reached behind her for the timer.
“No way you’re gonna make it next time,” she said, then looked down at the cane on the floor in front of them. “I will be using that for sure.”
“I hope you get to,” Steve said as he wiggled close to his girlfriend and felt his balls beginning to tighten slightly.
This close to Roxanne, her dark thighs exposed like this, her heavy tits pushed up into him, all this holding kissing and talking, he knew he would be up in no time, and ready for that damn timer again.
This close to Steve, Roxanne felt her suffering pussy aching to be filled. She only hoped Steve would have the energy after she made him come in two minutes.
Originally published June 2010