My Kitten,

Lie back and spread your legs for me. Good girl.

“Be still, Kitten.”

Be still while I take hold of your throat and hold you gently but firmly down on the bed. Be still while I kneel beside you, my cock hard, only inches from your breast, and reach my hand down between your legs.

“Are you wet, Kitten?”

Be still as my fingers slowly open and explore you, spread your labia and feel how wet you are.

“Yes, Sir.”

My hand on your throat tightens slightly as I slowly turn your head to the side, my finger along your jaw holding you very still.

“You’re a good girl, Kitten. Be still while I enjoy your body.”

“Yes, Sir.” Your voice shakes just a little as you whisper it.

I slip two fingers deeply into you, my palm pressing against your clitoris. I lean forward and kiss your cheek, your neck just below the ear. I move slowly, deliberately, never releasing my grip on you.

Your hands move, lift slightly as my fingers thrust hard into you.

“Kitten. Don’t move.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I pause and wait for you to settle, and then begin thrusting my fingers into you again. I know you want to squirm, want to move, but you’re behaving well. Your lips are parted, your breathing fast and shallow.

I lean close and speak slowly and clearly: “Kitten, I’m going to release you. Don’t move. Don’t turn your head. Don’t move your hands. Be perfectly still. Do you understand me, Kitten?”

“Yes, Sir. Don’t move.”

“That’s right. Good girl.”

I release you, and moments later you feel me between your legs, my thighs brushing the insides of yours. And you know that I’m about to thrust my big, hard cock deep into you. But you don’t move, because I’ve told you to be still, and you’re obeying me.

And then my cock enters you, filling you, and you gasp and tip your head back and suddenly my body is on top of you, holding you down, and my cock is deep inside you, so deep it hurts, filling you completely and making it hard to breathe.

Soon, Kitten.

Love,
Your Querido

Kitten,

I’m glad we talked about the dom/sub relationship and how to manage feelings after I’ve ravished you. I’m glad because I didn’t really want to become more gentle. Far from it.

No, what I want is to gradually bring you back to the point of complete submission, and then to reduce you to a screaming, aching, shivering little girl — and then, eventually, to slowly and very gently hold you, comfort you, and bring you back to normal.

Love,
Sir

[ Taxi duty: Leaving at midnight for after-movie pickup. ~ Q. ]

Kitten,

Today was, in its own way, as good as yesterday.

And both were wonderful.

Love,
Querido

Kitten,

The first time you came, when you said you couldn’t stop crying, I loved that. You know I want to break you, to leave you weak and shaking. Yes, I was rough with you, demanding: I didn’t give you much rest, and I did thrust awfully hard into your throat. I knew you were near your limits, and that excited me. It excites me now, thinking about it.

I’m sorry we ran out of time, because I really did want to thrust my cock deep into your ass. I will next time. There just wasn’t time to do that and still hold your head tightly and ram my cock over and over into your mouth.

I’m glad you’re sore, and very glad you’re happy about it. You please me greatly, Kitten. You’re wonderfully submissive, incredibly sexy, and I can’t get enough of your little body. When you were on your hands and knees and I told you to turn around so I could fuck you, it was so exciting to watch you wait obediently for me, your ass lifted up to me, your shoulders down on the bed.

I want more, soon, beginning with you kneeling again for me. I want everything, Kitten. Come to me.

Your
Querido

[ Kitten, Saturday night I’ll be doing taxi duty until 11:00, or perhaps even a little later.
I’ll update this as soon as I’m back. — Q. ]

Kitten,

Let me tell you some of what’s going to happen the next time I have you here.

After I’ve taken your coat; after I’ve held you, looked at you, kissed you, and run my hands over your body; after I’ve welcomed you back after so long away; after all that I’ll give you the first of many instructions, orders, commands you’ll receive that day.

“Kitten, go get comfortable, and then go to my room, undress, and stand, naked, waiting for me. Now.”

You’ll do as you’re told, because you obey me, and I’ll walk in to my room a little while later to find you naked, eyes downcast, hands clasped in front of you. You’ll feel self-conscious, because I usually make you keep your bra and panties on, but I didn’t today. And I’ll take my time before I touch you, walking around you, standing close behind you, looking at you.

Then, finally, I’ll run one finger along your neck, down your shoulder, and then glide my hand down your back to your waist. I’ll grip your hip, not too tightly but firmly enough that you know I won’t let you get away. And you’ll moan and shiver just a little, as my other hand slips around your throat and holds you tightly.

I’ll talk to you, quietly, casually. I’ll tell you some of what’s coming, some of what I’m going to tell you here.

“Kitten, I’m going to be demanding today. I’m going to push you to your knees in just a moment, push you down and hold your head in my hand and drive my cock very slowly into your mouth — and deep into your throat. I’m going to take my time with you, directing you, holding your head tightly and giving you no control at all. I’m just going to take your mouth and throat, however I want: I’m going to use you that way for my pleasure, until I’m ready to lay you down and do other things to you.

“Kitten, all you have to do is breathe. That’s your job — your only job. You don’t even have to think about anything else.”

And that’s what will happen, Kitten, a few minutes later. By the time I’ve finished with you kneeling in front of me, your throat will already be growing sore, and you’ll still have hours of my cock in your mouth ahead of you.

I’ll lay you on the bed, on your back, and tell you to spread your legs. I’ll probably put a pillow under your hips, to tip you up to me just as I like you best. I’ll touch you, slide my fingers into you and slowly along your labia, around your clitoris, back into you. I’ll touch you with one hand while I hold you down by your throat with the other. At some point I’ll tell you to hold my cock in your hand, and you’ll do that. You’ll feel how big and hard I know, know how excited I am to be in you again. And you’ll worry, just a little, about how that big cock that’s already strained your throat is going to fit in your tight pussy, and about how much that’s going to hurt.

And then I’ll kneel between your legs, Kitten, and slowly, inch by inch, push my cock deep into you. You’ll feel the head enter your pussy, feel it spread your lips, feel me move in and out in small thrusts to cover my cock with your wetness before I drive it deeper into you. As I go deeper, I’ll lean forward until my face is near yours, until I can kiss you on the lips as my cock sinks deeper and deeper into you. My hand will tighten on the back of your neck, my other hand will press against the small of your back and hold you against me, and my thrusting will grow deeper and faster and firmer until I’m slamming my cock into your body with each long hard thrust.

We’ll do that for a long time, Kitten, and more than once. We’ll do everything else, too: you’ll worship my cock, and you’ll do it so very well, with such devotion and enthusiasm; and you’ll lie on your stomach while I thrust my big, hard cock slowly into your ass — and then lie on your back on top of me while I continue to fuck your ass and also slip two fingers into your pussy, filling you so intensely.

And you’ll come, Kitten. We’ll take time for that, too. You’ll come, and every time my cock will be in you, in your mouth or your pussy or your ass. You’ll come with long, drawn-out, crashing and exhausting orgasms. I might let you rest for a moment after you do, before I grab your neck tightly in my hand and push your head down on my stomach and tell you to “worship my cock again, Kitten.”

36.

Love,
Sir

Kitten,

I want you.

I want to make you yield to me, to lay you down and make you open yourself and wait for me to take you. I want to demand your obedient surrender. I want to slowly, deliberately, make you take my cock deeply and in every possible way.

I want to say “worship my cock, Kitten,” and watch you wrap your hands around it, kiss it, rub it on your face, and show me that there’s nothing in the world that you want as much as the feel of my cock on your cheek, lips, tongue, and in your throat.

I want to thrust without warning, deep into your throat, so that you lift your hands as if to press them against my thighs — but stop yourself before you do, and wait for me to release you. I want to do that over and over, until you’re gasping and choking, your eyes watering, and I say “good girl, I know that’s hard. Again, Kitten,” and thrust again, deeply, and hold your head against me as my cock swells in your throat.

I want to tell you to roll on to your back and spread your legs, and watch you lie there obediently as I prepare to enter you. As I drive my cock slowly, relentlessly into you, you’ll try to slide up the bed to avoid me filling you so completely. You know I won’t let you, that I’ll grab your hips or your shoulders or your thighs and pull you back to me: I’m going to bury my cock in you, Kitten, and never let you pull away until I’m ready to release you.

And I want — you knew this was coming, Kitten — to tell you to get on your hands and knees, your ass in the air, and wait for my big cock to enter you, slowly, painful inch by inch, until finally the fullness of my cock sliding in and out of your ass changes from pain to pleasure and you begin to rock your body back against me. You’ll come like that, Kitten, my cock deep inside you, my fingers digging into your hips and holding you tightly against me.

I want it all, Kitten. And I’ll have it all, soon. And you’ll have nothing to do but obey, from the moment you arrive until when, much later, you depart. You’ll obey, or I’ll pick you up and lay you down and make you obey, but in any case I’ll have my way with you, slowly and relentlessly and utterly. And before we finish, Kitten, you’ll be exhausted, shaky, aching, sore, and needing to be held close and comforted after hours of hard use.

I’m going to be an awful brute. And I can hardly wait, Kitten.

Love,
Sir

Kitten,

“Be still.” When I say that to you, Kitten, I’m not calming you. I’m telling you to hold still, warning you that, if you move, I’m going to grab you and put you where I want you. If I want to calm you, I’ll tell you to breathe, to relax, to slow down and settle. But when I tell you to be still, it’s because I’m about to do something to you, to take you in some way, and I want you to obediently wait for it.

“Kitten, lift your ass to me.” And when I tell you that, Kitten, you know exactly what I want. I want you to offer your pussy and your ass to me, to make yourself open to me, defenseless and vulnerable. Every time I tell you that, you know I’m going to use your vibrator on you, or thrust my cock into your pussy, or slowly drive it into your ass. Always, that’s what’s about to happen when I tell you to kneel on your hands and knees and lower your shoulders to the bed and raise your ass.

“Spread your legs for me. Wider.” I enjoyed that the other day, Kitten, when I told you to lie on your back and spread your legs for me. I always like it when you open yourself to me, when you surrender your body to me. I’ll often do that, tell you to put yourself in a vulnerable position, to put your hands behind your back so I can tie them, or to lie down on the bed with your legs apart so I can lie on top of you and take you.

Commanding you is a special pleasure, Kitten, quite apart from the sex itself. Watching you do what I tell you to do, knowing that I can be so demanding, verbally, that you’ll give in and do as you’re told even if you want to resist, pleases me greatly. Your submission excites me, and it makes me want to demand ever more of you, push you harder, take you longer and deeper, and enjoy your body even more.

I want you here. I want you here right now, so that I can please myself with your helpless naked body.

Soon, Kitten.

YOUR Querido wants you.

Kitten,

When I tell you to breathe, I’m calming you by telling you to slow yourself down and become aware of something simple and physical, and to focus your attention on that.

But often I’m thinking of more than that, dear little one. I don’t want you to simply focus on breathing: I want you to focus on nothing but breathing. I want that to be the only thought you have.

Sometimes, Kitten, just breathing is hard enough. When my cock is deep in your throat, thrusting over and over without warning or pause, you’ve no choice but to catch your breath when you can: breathing is all you can think about. And that’s how I want you, surrendered to that simple imperative, focused wholly on the rhythm of my thrusting, gasping your next breaths during those moments when the head of my cock is in your mouth but not filling your throat.

When I’m making love to you, Kitten, I still want your breathing to be the only thing on your mind, if you’re thinking anything at all. When I’m holding you down, preventing you from moving, not letting you pull yourself away from my thrusting cock as I pound into you — when I have you so restrained beneath me, I want you to think only of catching your breath before my arms crush you to me again. Or simply let go, think of nothing, and just feel the pain and pleasure and relentless slamming of my body into yours.

And, my darling Kitten, when you’re on your knees with your shoulder pressed down into the mattress and my hand on the back of your neck holding you down, focus your attention on slow, deep breathing as you feel the pain of my cock slowly entering your ass. Think only of that, of inhaling and exhaling, slowly, steadily, as my fingers tighten on your hips and pull you relentlessly toward me, as my cock fills you and the pain slowly turns to pleasure with each gradually deeper thrust.

So when I tell you to breathe, Kitten, I’m not merely trying to calm you. I’m also reminding you of how much control I want over your body when we’re together, of how completely I want to dominate and possess you, until all that’s left for you to control is your breathing — if even that.

Soon, dear Kitten, I’m going to take away everything else, all of your other choices and freedoms, and leave you with only that. Everything else you’ll surrender to me. I’ll insist.

Love,
Sir

[ Breathe, Kitten. Close your eyes, remember, anticipate, and breathe.
I’ll be back by 8:30 tonight. ~ Q. ]

Kitten,

Three things to imagine — or, rather, two things to remember from the recent past, and one to anticipate in the immediate future.

One: I’m sitting. You’re on your knees in front of me, naked, your elbows resting on my thighs. Your fingers and your lips are wrapped around my cock. My hand is on the back of your neck, pushing your head down, holding you there, grasping your hair and pulling you back up. Again and again, thrusting deeply.

Two: You’re naked beneath me, my arms around you, my hand on the back of your neck. My fingers tighten on your neck, holding you still, slowly tipping your head back. As I kiss you, I drive my cock slowly and deeply into you in long, endless thrusts.

Three: And, soon, you’ll be on your stomach, lying on the cushion — not as you have in the past, but across it, so that it holds your ass up to me. Your ankles will be tied to the foot of the bed, your legs apart, your knees touching the mattress. And I’ll be kneeling behind you, slowly driving my cock into your ass. For a long, long time — until your ass is as sore as the rest of you will be, dear Kitten.

Imagine any one of those, Kitten — or all of them.

They’ll all happen in the next few days.

Love,
Sir

Kitten,

I often speak of slowly doing things to you. There’s a special aspect of domination in that, an additional amount of control implied by the ability to manhandle you in a leisurely fashion.

Often, when I talk about tying you up, I’m thinking of that specific thing, the freedom to take my time with you as I please myself with your body. I imagine, for example, tying your ankles to the foot of the bed, your legs spread wide, and then very slowly spreading your labia with my tongue, licking your pussy, slipping a finger into you as my lips close around your clitoris and my tongue moves so lightly over you. I imagine doing that for many minutes, making you moan and squirm and try (unsuccessfully) to back away from my relentless attention. I’ll probably do that to you on Tuesday.

But, before I tie you to the bed, I’m going to tell you to stand, fully dressed, waiting for me in the bedroom. I’m going to stand behind you, holding you against me, my hand on your throat, and tell you, quietly, what I’m going to do with you today. And then I’m going to sit on the chair and tell you to stand in front of me and undress, and watch you take off all of your clothes. I’ll touch you, run my fingers along your thigh, pat your bottom — and then make you kneel in front of me, naked, and take my cock in your mouth, slowly and for a long time.

Only after that, only after I’ve watched my shaft sliding between your lips, and after I’ve held your hair tightly in my hand and slowly moved your head up and down as I thrust into your throat, and after I’ve told you what a good girl you are and how pleased I am by everything you do — only after all that will I pull you to your feet and lay you on the bed, and make love with you, gently and lovingly.

And then, Kitten, I’ll tie you up, and begin doing to you the things that will leave your pussy and your ass throbbing and aching for the next few days, your lips numb, and your throat sore.

My darling little Kitten, I want you.

Love,
Sir

Kitten,

Your obedience always pleases me, and never more than when I’m demanding difficult things of you.

I told you to kneel on the bed and lift your ass to me, and you did. I pushed your shoulders down, and you obediently knelt there, your ass tipped up to me, vulnerable to whatever I intended to do. You must have been afraid that I might ram my cock into your ass again, as I’d done earlier, instead of thrusting it deep into your pussy. But you didn’t try to escape, didn’t try to lift your shoulders from the bed or let your hips sink down.

Instead, you dutifully, obediently knelt there, waiting for me to do whatever I was going to do. Of course you knew you couldn’t get away, and that, if you struggled, I’d push you down and take you roughly, or tie you up and take my time with you. But you’d have submitted to my rough handling anyway, even if you thought you had a chance of escape, because you’re a good and obedient girl, and you give me everything I want.

You always, Kitten, give me everything I want. All the things I’ve demanded of you, all the ways I’ve had you, all the restraining and touching and thrusting hard into your pussy and ass and throat, all if it, you’ve given me without hesitation, without resistance. The only times you’ve tried to get away were when I was thrusting too deeply into you, and even then you simply squirmed a little, trying to make my thrusts less deep. It doesn’t work, of course: I grab your hips or your shoulders or your neck and pull you back toward me, and thrust all the deeper.

I know you’re sore now, your throat and labia and vagina and ass all aching from my cock thrusting so hard and relentlessly into you. And I know that you’ll submit again, kneel there or lie there and wait for me to take you however I want — waiting like a good, well-behaved Kitten as you grip the sheets tightly and close your eyes and prepare to be used for my pleasure.

Kitten, you please me greatly.

Love,
Sir

Kitten,

I say “gentle” sometimes when what I really mean is slow and controlling. I want to take you in a slow, very deliberate way — gentle, in that I’m not throwing you around and ramming my cock into your throat or your ass with hardly any warning, but still demanding and unyielding.

Here’s what’s going to happen, Kitten. After we’ve had our rituals, after I’ve held you and talked to you for a little while, and after you’ve knelt obediently and pleased me with your hands and your lips and tongue, after all that, my darling Kitten, I’ll lay you on the bed, on your back, naked. And then I’ll make love to you.

I’ll do it slowly, deliberately, but in a way that leaves you with no freedom of movement, no ability to pull away or escape. I’ll lie down on top of you, my chest against yours holding you in place. I’ll slip one arm under you and grip your ass firmly, tipping you up to me. I’ll put my other arm under your neck, pressing against your shoulder, holding you still. My legs will slowly push yours open as my cock sinks into you. I’ll take you with long, slow, relentless thrusts, and there will be nothing you can do except lie there and give your body to me.

At some point I’ll probably put my hand on your cheek and turn your head and hold you down against the bed, or grip your throat and hold you still. I’ll undoubtedly manhandle your breasts and nipples, grab your thigh and squeeze uncomfortably hard, and otherwise handle you firmly — but not quickly, and not roughly. I’m going to take my time with you, and everything I do will remind you that your body is mine to do with as I please, and that there’s nothing you can do to stop me from having my way with you.

We’ll do other things, too, of course. But I’m going to make love with you, thoroughly and well, and leave you feeling controlled and possessed — owned — and desired the whole time.

Love,
Sir

Kitten,

I rarely write fantasies, and very rarely fantasies set in the bedroom. We do so much already; we do everything, it seems. What is there, really, to fantasize about, when I possess you so completely, so absolutely?

But tonight, my beloved Kitten, you get a fantasy.

It’s late evening, the house is quiet, and we’re the only ones up now. My bedroom is softened from what you know: the curtains, heavy and hanging down to the floor, are closed. It’s warm, and the only light comes from a somewhat ornate lamp sitting on the table beside my chair. My chair is very comfortable, an antique, padded wing-back chair that I often sit in at night when I read. The chair sits on a big, round, thick white rug, soft and perfectly clean.

I’m wearing bluejeans and a black tee shirt, and I’m sitting in the chair with a book and a glass of red wine. The book is one we wrote together. It’s the story of a professional man and woman who, thrown together by circumstances, discover a seemingly perfect compatibility in his need to command and her desire to submit. It’s romantic but realistic, extraordinarily explicit, and very well written.

You are wearing the black lace bra and panties that you know I particularly like, under a short, sheer black nightgown. Your hair is loose and flowing over your shoulders. You’re sitting on the rug near my chair, your bare legs tucked under you, facing away from me but with your cheek resting against my leg. You have an arm around my leg, and in the other hand you’re holding a glass of white wine.

I’m skipping around in the book, reading the steamier scenes to you. And, as I read, you remember each scene, remember back to the days we spent living the scenes in this room before I ever wrote them down.

There’s one scene in particular that you liked, though it was among the least explicit of them all. In the scene, the woman — he calls her “Kitten” — is worried about something, a problem at work perhaps. She’s stressed, can’t sit still, full of nervous energy. They’ve talked about the situation and she knows it’s not really a crisis and that, in any case, there’s nothing to be done right now. But she can’t set it aside and relax tonight.

“Kitten, come here.” He speaks quietly but firmly, and she obeys, her eyes dropping as she hears the tone of his voice. She walks to him and he puts his hands on her waist and turns her around and pulls her back against him. He tips her head back a little, so that it’s resting against his shoulder, and rests his hand on her throat, and he talks to her.

“Kitten, it’s time to relax.” His arm is around her body, holding her close. Her arms and hands slowly relax and drop to her side as she listens to him speak to her, and her body slows and begins to settle.

“Kitten, I’m going to stand here and hold you until your breathing slows to match mine, and until I feel the tension leave you. I’m going to hold you against me, just like this. I’m not going to let you go, or let you fall, or even let you speak unless I ask you a question first. I’m just going to hold you, with my arm around you and one hand under your breast, like this. I’m going to hold your neck, like this, and I’m going to speak quietly, as I’m doing now, and tell you what to do.

“And, Kitten, there’s nothing you can do except what I tell you to do. I’m going to tell you everything you need to do, and give you no choices. Do you understand me, Kitten?”

“Yes, Sir,” she answers, quietly, and it’s obvious to him that she’s trying hard to relax.

“Good girl.” His fingers cup her breast and squeeze her slightly, and then his arm drops around her waist and she feels how tightly he holds her against his body. She knows that she could relax completely right now, could try to slump to the floor in his arms, and he’d hold her and prevent her fall. She knows she’s trapped, his prisoner now, and that she’ll have no choice but to do what he tells her to do.

And that thought comforts her and makes her feel calm. She doesn’t have to plan anything, decide anything. All she has to do is wait for him to tell her what he wants first, and then do it. She knows from experience what that’s likely to be, and the thought of taking his cock in her mouth is suddenly all she can think about. She wonders if he’ll thrust it hard into her throat, or if he’ll tell her to worship his cock and then watch her as she lavishes attention on it with her hands, mouth, tongue.

I read to you, and as I do you remember that day, remember slowly, obediently lowering yourself to your knees on the soft carpet you’re sitting on now. You remember me putting my hand under your chin and tipping your head up to me as I unfasten my pants. You remember me telling you to worship my cock, and then the next many minutes are a blur as you devote yourself to my cock, as you rub it on your face and kiss the length of it, stroke it with your hand and slowly take it in your mouth.

I remember how beautiful you were, kneeling there almost naked, looking up at me briefly each time I told you to — looking up at me as my cock slipped slowly between your lips….

“That’s good, Kitten. Relax, just like that. I’m going to be gentle with you tonight, at least for a little while, Kitten. Gentle, but still demanding, and you’ll have to obey. But you want to obey, don’t you, Kitten?”

“Yes, Sir.” And he can feel her body relaxing against him even as she answers.

I read to you, and you sip your wine and close your eyes and rest your cheek against my leg. And, as you listen, you know in the back of your mind that soon I’ll finish my wine, put down the book, and pick you up and carry you to bed. And then we’ll relive several scenes from this book, or from one of the others, before you finally fall asleep in my arms.

Your
Querido

Kitten,

I know you know my obsession — or, perhaps, my several obsessions. But today it’s my Kitten in general I’m thinking about: I miss you, little one. And I’m looking forward to having you back in my bed, soon.

But speaking of obsessions, dear obedient Kitten, there are some things I want from you. One of the first things I want is to tie you to the big leather cushion, so that you’re open and helpless and waiting for me, and then to take my time with you.

A lot of time. What I’d like is about four hours, and then all night with you to recover. But if we can manage three hours in the middle of the day, that will please me greatly.

Your Querido is thinking of you.

Love,
Sir