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Who's The Top

Topping from the bottom gets this little girl's ass rosey red.

I walk silently into the room, wrapping my arms around you from behind.

"Guess who" I whisper into your ear, taking a little nibble out of the lower lobe, before sucking it into my mouth and flicking my tongue quickly over it. Your hands slide up my arms slowly, then back down to my wrists, capturing them in your firm grasp.

"Come sit on my lap," you state emphatically in that commanding voice that dances erotically across my spine. I walk the few paces around your chair, hearing your indrawn breath. As I come into your view, I've let my hair fall over my face, so you do not see the grin that crosses my face; your reaction is just what makes me want to seduce you.

I've come prepared for you, wearing a light very thin white blouse that buttons up the front, all but two of which I have left undone; my lacy bra hardly contains straining breasts. As I turn to sit, I know your eyes are taking in all my preparations from the thin shirt, the black thigh high stockings, and the tiny pleated skirt you like so much.

I wiggle erotically as I settle on your lap. Sucking my lip into my mouth to bite on the full lower lip as your cock swells and presses against one firm globe.

You pop my thigh smartly, "You’re doing all of this on purpose, and I enjoy the view and the little dance. The mystery smiles and that noiseless 'adda boy' you're giving yourself is not acknowledged, and your endeavor to top me won't be permitted."

"I'm sorry, Master just wanted to please you." I'm attempting to judge his mood; is he playing along or is he mad?

"Yes, and I can see that."

You pull me down to your mouth, sucking my full red lip, tasting the cherry flavored smear proof lipstick. My tongue darts out into your mouth, deepening the kiss as our lips, tongue, and teeth play with each other.

Your hand slides up my leg, not stopping until you grip my ass, squeezing it firmly. I hear your deep groan as your fingers slide through my folds to discover me already slick with wanting.

"You did not think I would continue to let you lead this little dance, did you?"

Shyly lowering my eyes, "No... no Sir, I did not."

“On your knees, then.”

Sliding to the floor, spreading my knees out, placing my hands between my legs to stroke your mark just as you have instructed.

“Remove my pants.” My heart kicks up a bit; the commanding authority in your voice doing funny things to my insides.

I slide my hands up your legs to your waist, unfastening the button there, and then sliding the zipper down tic by tic. Pushing them down along with your boxer briefs; your long thick cock springs free and bobs a hairs breath from my lips. My breath hitches my need to take you in my mouth strong. I can't touch without your consent, so I wait for what feels like a very long time.

"Would you like to suck me, baby?"

"Oh yes. Please, Master, may I suck your cock?"

"No, you tried to top me, so you will be punished first. Get into position, ass in the air, face on the floor."

I hear you moving toward the closet where all your toys are, and I know it's not a toy you're grabbing from inside. My heart rate increases as you approach, surprising how much noise bare feet make on hardwood floors. Chill bumps rise on my skin as you slide my skirt up, flipping it up on my back. Since I'm not allowed to wear panties at home, my ass is always exposed for your access.

One finger skims over my bare skin, "ten, you will count each one of them, understand?"

"Yes Master," my voice has this breathy quality that annoys me, and I'm busy wondering why when the first smack lands, hot and sharp on my right cheek.

"One, Master."

 Oooh... He has the strap. I feel the air as he swings the strip of leather and can feel the smack as the next stroke lands.

"Two, Master." His hand is on my back, did I move?

"Remain still." Smack It takes a moment for the heat to spread

"Three, Master." The throb in my core makes a steady beat now, matching the one blooming on my ass cheeks.


"Four, Master," a drip rolls down my thighs, oh, I hope he does not see, just that thought makes me blush heat rising from my already rosy rear up my body to my face.


I gulp in a deep breath! Master, put some extra oomph behind that one.

Smack. "Count! You're at five, the extra one you earned for dropping the count. If you do that again, we will start over. Do you understand, Pet?"

"Five, Master. Yes Sir, I understand."


"Six, Master."

Smack. I moved from the position, dropping all the way to the floor, rocking back and forth, in an attempt to master the pain. Master tapped me on the rear, signaling for me to get back up.

"Seven, Master."

Smack. "You can do this, do not move again."

"Eight, Master." I can do this for Master; tears were rolling down my cheeks.


"Nine, Master." I could not stop them; they rolled unchecked, streaking my face.


"Ten, Master." Tears that started from pain and humiliation now washed me clean of the shame of disappointing my Master. I was forgiven, and it gave me peace.

"In my lap facing me, unbutton your blouse."

Placing a knee on each side of your hips. Slowly, I unfasten the buttons of my blouse. Which you pull from my skirt you reach under the flimsy material, cupping my breasts, and strumming the hard points through my lacy bra. I slide my hands over your chest, enjoying the feel of hard muscles and warm skin. Slowly gliding my hands lower over ribs and lower to rippling abs.

You still my hands, pulling them behind my back and crossing my wrists. I know without being told to keep my hands where you placed them. You slide the blouse down my arms, using the material to tie my wrists together. Your fingertips trace up my arms over my shoulders and up to my jaw, the movement causing goose pimples to form.

Gripping my jaw, you pull me towards your lips, your tongue traces the seam, and the action so erotically intimate. My lips part on a gasp, allowing your tongue entrance tangling with mine exploring, tasting, and exchanging heated breaths.

Your fingers drag from the jaw, across my throat, between my breasts down my quivering stomach over my bare mound to slip between the saturated lips of my pussy.

"You're wet," Master declares.

"Yes Sir," I whisper. Both of us breathing heavily.

"Go lean over the sofa. Can you do this with your arms behind your back?

Scrambling off Master’s lap and over to the sofa, it's amazing the things you can accomplish with the proper motivation.

"Yes, Master."

I draped my body over the arm of the sofa, laying my face against the satiny pillow Master slipped in place. My skin aroused and sensitive prickled at the slightest touch. So erotically charged that I jumped when he palmed my thigh right at the crease.

He quietly chuckled, then leaned over my back whispering, "I feel it."

His hand slides up my thigh, sliding my skirt over the glowing globes of my ass.

Then the head of his cock, sliding back and forth across my pussy, slipping in and out. Wiggling my rear without even thinking about it, so eager to feel the slide and stretch of your big cock.

I'm panting with anticipation and need when you thrust once, burying your cock to the hilt, bringing me to a screaming orgasm. Instead of being angry that I came without permission. You grip my hands in yours, pistoning in and out, taking your pleasure in my wet willing body. Pumping in as I thrust back into you the drag of your cock out and the thrust of your cock head hitting my cervix.

I would be sore tomorrow deliciously so. Every movement is a reminder of this moment in his possession. Of my beloved Master. Your cock lengthens then jerks as you cum, releasing jet after jet inside me. Your breathing so heavy, chest heaving as you rest your body over my back.

Dedicated to Miles, thanks so much my friend


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © ©2016 Charity Robbins All rights reserved no reprinting without the expressed permission of the author
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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