Fuckdoll

“Strip and lie on your back on the bed. I’ll be back in a minute,” he instructed as soon as I entered his room. He headed upstairs, likely to pollute the air with cigarette smoke and top off his coffee. I took a deep breath and slid out of my clothes, leaving them in a heap beside the door, then stretched a bit, enjoying the tension in the flex and bend.

I reached up to the ceiling with my hands and then brushed the carpet with my fingertips. A sigh escaped me as I slid my hand down my right side and arched in that direction, stretching the left side, enjoying the give up my ribs and on my hip. I repeated the movement on my left side, the sigh turning into a soft moan. Finally, with a small smile, I turned to the bed and arranged myself on it, my legs hanging off the foot of the mattress and feet brushing the floor.

It wasn’t long before he returned, set his coffee cup beside the bed and leaned over to kiss me. His “Good girl,” brought another happy sigh. He moved to my feet and rolled stockings up my legs, left first, smoothing the silky fabric up to my thighs before slipping his favorite black patent heels on my feet. He stood and ordered “Up.” So, I sat up, my eyes closed and a smile curving my lips. He slid the leather play collar over the skin of my throat and I leaned into it with a little moan. My breath stumbled as he clicked the lock closed and moved to remove my silver day collar from beneath the leather one. The feel of my pulse thudding against the leather collar blurred my mind as it always does.

I could feel him smile, though he stood above me. His thumbs found the pressure points on my shoulders and he pushed, eliciting louder moans. My eyes remained closed and he shoved me back on the bed. I landed with an ungraceful flop, my mind fogged. I heard him move away for a moment, a door closed, likely to the bathroom, but I was unconcerned and just lay there enjoying the state he brings me to with such little effort.

I heard him return, felt the bed dip with his weight and I made the herculean effort to open my eyes and look at him for a moment before he rolled me over onto my stomach. My eyes slid closed once more and I heard the murmur of the rope before I felt it. The soft scratch or the rope over the skin of my inner wrist brought a little squirm, my thighs rubbing together. He bound my wrists and pulled them toward the head of the bed. “How is my toy?” his voice rumbled in my ear.

I managed a response after a moment, “Good, Sir.” Again, I could feel his smile as he moved away from me. I do so love that smile. He ran a hand down my back and over my bottom, and then dipped fingers between my legs. Two fingers, three, I couldn’t tell anymore from the pleasure he wrought. The bed moved again as he wrapped his hand around my hair, twisted the bun and pressed my face into the mattress.

“Cum, toy,” he commanded. I began the orgasm, tensing my muscles and my body obeyed. My pussy clenched around his fingers and my abdominals pulsed along with them, curling my body. He finally relented and stopped moving his fingers and the orgasm abated slowly.

“Thank you, Sir,” I murmured, but he yanked my head back and clamped his pussy dampened hand over my mouth and nose. I dimly heard “Good cunt.” as I fought to breathe. I struggled to pull my hands down to claw at the hand halting my breath. My entire body tightened as the need for air intensified. How long has his hand kept me from breathing? I don’t know anymore. My world narrowed to my body’s need for oxygen and his hand that controls me so.

“You can cum when you can breathe,” I heard. The words seemed to resound in my ears. My eyes have opened now, on the verge of panic, despite my knowledge that my Sir would never damage what is His. His hand now holds back a scream as well as the air, a barrier both ways. And then it is gone.

An orgasm rushes through me as breath sobs in and out of me until the intensity of it stops the panted moans again and again. All thought is gone and all that exists is this. All that has ever been and all that will be is caught in that moment of ecstasy. Slowly the orgasm subsided and I could feel his hand in my hair still, his fingers stroking my face.

“Thank you, Sir,” I managed hoarsely.

“Mmmmm good girl,” I received. Then he entered me. “Lie still, I want to fuck my toy,” he ordered. If I could have spoken I would have replied with a “yessir” but my voice was engaged in a long low moan with the feel of his cock moving inside my pussy. His hand moved to pull my head back by my collar while he braced himself with the other. I wanted to cum. I wanted to beg to cum, but knew that if he wanted an orgasm from me, he would say so. I fought it desperately, my body tightened with the battle against my need to orgasm. Guttural cries echoed from my open mouth unhindered by the pressure on my throat from his hold on the collar.

“Are you needy, toy?” he asked me.

My response was another moan and a roughly spoken “Yessirrr”.

“Aren't you a lucky girl that I like to feel you cum? If I didn’t, you wouldn't get to," he reminded me, which made my struggle against orgasm even more difficult. “You may cum when I do, toy.”

I accomplished another croaked “Yessir” and dug my fingernails into the palms of my bound hands as he thrust into me harder and faster. My breath automatically stopped in the fight against the need to cum. I could hear my pulse thump in my ears, the blood rushing unsteadily through my veins until I felt like I might fail him. A moment longer and I might not be able to obey his command against orgasm.

“Release, cunt. Cum for me, toy,” he growled and the world was gone. My pussy contracted around his cock and I felt his cum fill me, felt him twitch and throb inside me then I was gone, lost in this incredibly severe ecstasy that he draws from me. I came until my abs ached from it and still it did not stop. I came until my stomach churned with it and still it continued. Slowly the intensity faded, but I felt him pull out of me and it came again in painfully pleasurable waves until finally it faded from me.

I whispered a “Thank you, Sir” weakly and he pulled my head to his cock. I licked and sucked him clean and drifted for a while with it in my mouth before he patted the bed next to him. With a soft sigh, I curled up half beside him, half draped over him and listened to his heartbeat, my head on his chest.

This. This is bliss. Utterly used and happily satisfied.

Quietly.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

© surrina booke 2013
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This short Fuckdoll story at the request of BookAddict on GoodReads. It is very close to being qualified as reality as it is very much about my life and my journey. This story is mostly a compilation of parts from scenes between myself and my Sir. The piece in its entirety is imagined, but quite possibly real and I just blended one scene into another as my mind so often does… it does sound quite like my Sir and me.

~E's Surri

Truth & Mercy

Let not mercy and truth forsake thee; bind them about thy neck, write them upon the tablet of thine heart. 

So shalt thou find favor and good understanding in the sight of God and man.
Proverbs 3:3-4 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

This verse was brought to my attention via a post in a group I am a member of on Fetlife. It resonated and so I dwelled there with it for a while and read what others had said about it. One had used it in a collaring ritual with his submissive, another found historical references to relate to the Dominant/submissive dynamic, others saw no connection. I, being the lover of lexis that I am, wanted to first explore the meaning of these two oh so important words that the Bible says I should bear on my neck and my heart. 
mer·cy

 /ˈmərsē/ noun
mercies, plural

1. Compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm

- the boy was screaming and begging for mercy

- the mercies of God

2. An event to be grateful for, esp. because its occurrence prevents something unpleasant or provides relief from suffering

- his death was in a way a mercy

3. (esp. of a journey or mission) Performed out of a desire to relieve suffering; motivated by compassion

- mercy missions to refugees caught up in the fighting 

truth

 /trooTH/ noun
truths, plural

1. The quality or state of being true

- he had to accept the truth of her accusation

2. That which is true or in accordance with fact or reality

- tell me the truth

- she found out the truth about him

3. A fact or belief that is accepted as true

- the emergence of scientific truths

- the fundamental truths about mankind 

Thank you, Google! I love the diction in this scripture. To take these and bind them about my neck and write them upon the document that is my heart means so much. It is one thing to hold things in one’s heart and keep them dear, but with mercy and truth, to make them a part of my heart, not just in it. To not hide them only inside, but to wear them proudly on my neck and let all know that these claim me and that I claim them. Mercy; this is compassion, forgiveness, kindness, understanding, benevolence. Truth; this is fact, honesty, sincerity, genuineness, certainty, uprightness. I am to not only accept them and give them in their entirety. I am to make them a part of who and what I am and how others see me. 

Ironically, E once screen-named himself these two words. Truth and Mercy… So this verse is just made a bit dearer to me.

valentine's day yayness

the contract is signed. happy valentine's day to me! lol of course, he made me earn it. (for any of you that are wondering... crawling across a room blindfolded, gagged and partially bound with rope with  nipples and labia tethered with rather pinchy things to something that really doesn't want to move much... tough fucking stuff! but he was on the other side of the room.....) oh and i officially suck at begging... especially when emotion is involved.. me dissolving into needy tears is pretty much the result of that. at least i made it far enough to ask... :D
i love having these reminders of my place and of him... my anklet, my bracelet, my collar (hemp choker.. yay!) it's an amusing game to see just how many of them i can get away with wearing at once. the collar will take getting used to, though, because after wearing it a while it gets itchy as fuck. gonna have to do something about that. 
but yeah. that's my update for now.. i'm too happy right now to wax all poetic and shtuff. 
'til next time..
~surri