Desperation and Gentle Things

Today is just one of those days… The kind where I’m feeling meh and pulling myself from that just isn’t happening. I’m certainly trying, I’m being super productive, I’ve reached out to people, and even tried finding my calm place, but it’s not happening.

I know why, and without going into too much detail, all the arguments over guns after this recent Oregon shooting are getting to me. As with everyone, I have many opinions, and those opinions don’t come from merely hearing about something on the news. They come from experience. This is where things shift for me. This is why I’m in this place of meh. Because now memories of horrible things are flooding back to me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.

They are pulling me from my place of joy, and being present, and forcing me into the past.

This is normally the time when I’d call D. Beg for some terribly, kinky thing to happen. Ask to submit over the phone or wherever was necessary, because when I’m in this place, the best thing for me to do is submit. But things are tricky right now, as D is very busy. So I’m in this curious place, wanting desperately to submit to him, to get on my knees and be put in my place, to feel safe and cared for, but that can’t happen right now.

I can’t do the opposite either, as I have no little sluts nearby, ready for a beating. By a bizarre twist of fate, the girls that I would want to partake in that with, are all far away right now. Since I’m not into the whole ‘stranger’ thing, as I need a deep connection with people, I’m trying something new instead. I’m going to share a piece I wrote.

What I’m not sharing, is whether or not this one is fiction or nonfiction. Somehow, knowing that no one knows, is bringing me the calm I need right now.

This is an erotica piece, an x-rated erotica piece. If you aren’t okay with that, stop reading now! 🙂

Gentle Things

By Sienna Saint-Cyr

Black leather hugged my hips and breasts, making it harder to breathe as I bent over the bed, bare ass high in the air, ready for Master to bring his whip down on me. He paced instead, whirling it occasionally, building my anticipation. My cunt rushed with wetness, and I bit down on the gag in my mouth. Pulled on imaginary restraints. I didn’t need them anymore. No matter where I went—who I was with—I was always tied, bound, and collared for Master.

His skin smelled of sweet spices. The closer he moved, the more I tasted his cock in my mouth. Felt my eyes roll to the back of my head as I entered that special place only he could make me go. I imagined him inside all parts of me at once.

Master did something unexpected. I heard the whip drop to the ground just as he touched me. His hands on my hips made me rush with tingles. I bit down harder on my gag as his hands worked up my sides, over my breasts, and to my throat. He leaned over me from behind, holding my neck, and a wave of energy moved from his hands, down the length of my body.

Blackness filled my eyes as he moved through me. He’d engulfed me in a blanket of safety and warmth. Then Master reached a hand up under my hair, and before he could even grab, my cunt rushed with more juices. Burned with the fire he was so good at building in me.

He pulled my head back by my hair and bit my ear. Still unable to speak, I let the euphoria circle in and out of me instead of crying out. But I really wanted to be begging. On my knees, kissing Master’s hand, his whip, his feet, and coming as he ordered me to, again and again, like an obedient slave.

“Are you wet for your Master?” he spoke directly into my ear, his breath only adding to my desire.

I was silent, as I had no way to answer. Couldn’t nod or speak.

“Awww,” he chuckled, “is the slave girl having trouble communicating?”

Master’s laugh was equally as wonderful as his command voice. He made my chest stir with pleasant flurries of giggles.

“Maybe I’ll just check for myself.”

Master reached his other hand between my legs, moving it around the wet mess he’d made me into. His hand there felt right. Peaceful and exciting at the same time. Then he pinched my clit and my body reacted without my instruction.

I lifted from the bed, but Master’s weight kept me from going too far. And he laughed again. Making me squirm under him. He moved his hand from me and slapped my ass hard, several times before returning it to my clit and pinching again. Harder this time.

“I didn’t tell you to move,” he said.

I thought I’d go through the roof, but I managed to stay still.

Master released my hair and pushed my head down to the bed. Leaving my ass even higher in the air. He stretched my arms out in front of me, and I imagined once again that he’d bound me tightly to the bedframe. I let him mold me into the exact position he wanted. And I loved every moment of his rough and yet gentle, touch.

My ass burned as he stood, knowing he would slap me again. And he did. Each hit made my heart ache with appreciation. Gratitude for his caring. Master always gave me the exact thing I needed. Since I couldn’t thank him aloud, I let it release through me, out of every part of me, and into the air. Picturing my thankfulness going into Master.

He used his fingers to fuck me. Not just in my cunt, but my ass too. In and out at the same moment as he told me to obey. Told me I was his slave girl. His fuck toy. That he controlled my orgasms. Each time I agreed with my body’s response. My cunt tightening around his fingers with the words he said.

“Good girl,” he breathed, and my heart raced.

I was a wet, giggly slut for him. Ready to do whatever he asked of me next. Then he spoke his request, and my chest went cold.

“I want you to kiss me,” he said, then unbuckled the gag in my mouth.

Instantly I felt my stomach turn over. But the burn in my cunt, all Master’s hard work, and me wanting to obey him, pushed me past my discomfort. Kissing was hard for me. The hardest.

Pain entered the back of my head, as it usually did when it came to kissing, but I rolled over to face him anyway. Master’s eyes were on fire, intent on what he wanted. And he unbuckled the front of my corset, exposing my bare breasts. Once it was unlatched, I lifted and he pulled it off me.

Master pushed me flat on the bed again. Only I was naked as he lay next to me. He was still fully clothed, making me feel the perfect amount of vulnerability with him. He knew exactly what he was doing and I trusted him completely.

I met his eyes with a fire of my own. The kind that told him I wanted to kiss him, and not just because he’d asked. Because I wanted it. Bad.

I forced the pain from my head and focused on Master. Swallowing my fear and letting tears fall as I touched his cheek. Slowly, and steadily, wrapping my lips around his.

Master’s lips made me tremble. His hand roamed my breast, pinching my nipple as he met my kissing with his own intensity. I felt my back arching under him, responding to him as though he were a current moving through me. And I kissed him harder. Wrapping both my hands around the back of his head now.

I wasn’t sure if Master would like that, but I couldn’t help it. The more we kissed, the less fear I had, and the harder I wanted to kiss him. His lips were soft and fit with mine seamlessly. More tears escaped as I let all the awful memories of things haunting me, transmute into this wonderful moment with Master.

He pulled back from me for a moment and whispered into my ear, “When I put my tongue in your mouth, you will come for your Master.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

His emerald eyes flickered with what appeared to be amusement, then he leaned down and kissed me this time. Gentle, yet forceful. His hand roaming my breast again, pinching and grabbing in motion with his mouth. Intensity matching intensity, no matter what he did or where.

Tingles built in my chest, my cunt, even in my toes. My head spun with anticipation as he teased me with his tongue. Licking my upper lip, down my neck, then back up, but without entering my mouth.

I let out a little moan when he moved his mouth to my breast, and nipped me. He spread my legs with his hand, working his fingers in and out of me, adding more of his hand until all of his fist was in me. Stretching me, filling me, making me burn. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, Master moved his lips to mine again.

He shoved his tongue in my mouth, twirling it with my own tongue, and I came hard. My whole body contorting and moving under him, rushing with juices as his fist continued to move in and out of me, his tongue matching pace.

I kept coming. Thanking him silently for his kindness. Wanting him to cum along with me, but he didn’t. Master kissed me until my body had no orgasm left. Then he slowly removed his hand from my cunt.

I couldn’t stop the tears. They just fell, and I curled into Master’s arms. He held me close, petting the back of my head as I cried.

“Good girl,” he said, and it made me cry harder.

I didn’t know what I’d done right to deserve such a caring Master, but somehow, someway, I’d found him. This amazing person that wasn’t afraid of me.

When my tears dried up, I looked him deep in the eyes.

“Thank you, Master,” I said with all the respect and gratitude in me.

“You’re welcome, slave.” He smiled. “What are you thinking now?”

“I’m just confused. You were gentle. And it was still good. I still wanted to obey.”

“Gentle things are beautiful too, slave. It’s the obeying that makes this so wonderful,” he said as he touched my cheek.

I smiled.

“I want to serve you now, Master.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “you will… First, you will bathe me, then suck my cock until I tell you to swallow. Got that, slave?”

“Yes, Master.” My heart raced again, and my smile widened. “Thank you, Master.”


About authorsienna

Author * Speaker * Blogger on sex, erotica, LGBTQ, BDSM, Dominance, submission, consent, and polyamory. Authors tales of dark desires and hidden fantasies.
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2 Responses to Desperation and Gentle Things

  1. Fiction or not, it’s beautifully written.


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