I got plans for this body PART 1

Bernard has a lascivious gaze as he trails his knuckles along my body, and his voice drips like honey on my skin. “I’ve got plans for this body…” He sets out some food for me to eat before meeting him upstairs. He won’t let up on this time he told me to “eat something” before a play session, and I only ate a few crackers. I was excited, okay? I mean, maybe I nearly passed out in a cold sweat a few hours later, shaking from hunger (andmaybe that’s technically hypoglycemia). Whatever… This is a big deal to Bernard in his role as a Dom – he feels responsible for my well-being. I don’t want to put him in a position to feel like he failed me somehow, so I try to do my part to take care of myself.

It’s been an issue the entire time he’s known me. It’s not a body image thing. I love food, I really, really do. But, when I’m worried or excited about something, I tend to forget to eat. Food and sustenance gets put on the back burner. That’s all. It’s been this way for me as long as I can remember. It’s why I was genuinely concerned that I would accidentally starve my offspring to death. It drove Bernard crazy in college. He tried to help me set timers and reminders to eat. He would come over and help me put “snack packs” together before finals each semester, that way I had something on-hand when I started crashing. Since having Alex, I actually have gotten a lot better about it. But, sometimes I get excited and the whole ‘fun-first-food-later’ habit comes back…

Despite practically vibrating with excitement, I finish the yogurt and blueberries he set out and gulp down the orange juice and glasses of water. I dart over to Alex’s room to make sure her white-noise machine is turned on. She had been begging for one long before Bernard (and his tendency to make me scream like a banshee) came around. I figured now was as good a time as any to grant that wish. I grab a few more water bottles on my way upstairs, knowing it will come in handy and Bernard will appreciate the gesture.

I walk into my bedroom and Bernard is carefully unwinding a skein of gorgeous medium-fiber rope. Judging by the length of rope he’s handling, my guess is that we’ll be doing a body harness of some sort. There is something about the rope bondage that is so beautiful to me. The act of being restrained is erotic and brings pleasure to a whole new level. Being helpless and at his mercy amplifies the joy I experience. But the ropes – they leave such incredible evidence on my body, and there’s something about it that I love.

The lighting in my room is low. We thought about lighting candles once, but Bernard made the point that nothing kills the mood like a fire alarm. Given how much shit gets thrown around when we’re really going at it, the chances of setting a fire are somewhat high. So, we use low-wattage bulbs instead so we can have low lighting. I flip on the white noise machine outside of my own door as I make my way into my bedroom. There’s music playing in the background. We put together a few playlists to accompany our play sessions that accent whatever activity we’re doing.

I close and lock the door behind me as I walk into the room and Bernard turns around, giving me one of his warm smiles. He crooks his finger, signaling me to come over to him. I stop when I’m standing in front of him and he turns my body to face the bed while he steps behind me. He wraps his arms around my front and leaves gentle kisses on my temple, then nibbles my earlobe and continues leaving small nips along my neck until he gets to my halter top. He unties the straps but doesn’t peel the top off my chest yet. Instead, he pulls my hair tie off and lets my hair fall down in waves that tickle the center of my back. He gives me a gentle scalp massage, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body before pulling my hair back up into a bun.

Bernard plants a line of kisses up the side of my neck to my ear as he mumbles his plans against my skin. The low timbre of his voice makes me feel buzzed, “I’m going to tie you in a Karada harness, Princess.” I shiver as he sucks on my earlobe. We’ve done the body harness before – it’s a highly sensual experience. The tying process is erotic, with the sweeping touches all over the body. Then there are all the things it can do to your body while tied – just moving in the harness becomes an erotic corporeal encounter. “I’ve got something extra, too. I think you’ll like it.” I feel myself smiling as he turns me around to face him.

He rubs the palms of his hands up and down my arms, bringing me to the moment with him. He pulls my top over my head and he tosses it to the side, and without missing a beat, his hands are cupping and kneading my breasts. I keep my arms obediently passive at my side, knowing it’s up to him to move them. He kisses my nose playfully, making me laugh, then bites my chin while he plucks my nipples almost painfully. That draws out a moan. I’m really glad we invested in the white noise machines. He drops to his knees to pull my short off again. While the teasing was fun this afternoon, the denim of my shorts against my bare bottom became uncomfortable over the course of the day, especially considering my ass cheeks were still a bit raw from last night’s flogging.

After I step out of my shorts, he laves his tongue over the bite marks he left this afternoon. He chooses a few random marks and re-bites them to make them darker, because he is Bernard, and has to leave his mark. And fuck… his compulsion to mark me turns me on like nothing else. With his hands on my hips, he drags his tongue along what would be my underwear line as he turns me around. He pulls his head back and gently runs his fingers over the sensitive flesh of my ass.

“Emmae, was this bothering you today?” The concern in his voice is evident.

I shrug, “Only toward the very end of the day. I was too worked up to notice until we were sitting in the car, then it was kind of uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry – I didn’t even think about it.” I look behind me to see his face, and he looks genuinely remorseful.

“Bernard, seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s okay, really.” I search his eyes to make sure he understands that I really am not upset about it.

He nods his head, “Okay. Well, let me take care of it now, at least.” He rises to his feet again and goes over and grabs the lavender salve from yesterday, along with a bottle of massage oil. He thought ahead enough to bring it with us from his place. Fuck, he’s a keeper… “Lay on the bed, face down.” I comply, curling my arms under a pillow to support my head. He starts gently massaging the salve into the tender skin. It really isn’t that sore, but I’m not going to turn down a massage from his nimble fingers. After a while, he drips some of the massage oil on my back and begins loosening up knots I didn’t realize were there. After he’s satisfied with my back, he moves back down my body, giving my gluteal region more attention (of course). He continues farther down, kneading all the tension out of my hamstrings, outer thighs, and my calves.

When he starts making his way back up, instead of a kneading massage, he places open-mouth kisses up the back of my calves. When he gets to my knees, he starts alternating legs, swirling his tongue along my inner thighs. He nudges at them, “Spread open for me, Princess.” When I do, I feel him dip his fingers between my cheeks, lower and lower until he is parting my pussy lips. “Always so fucking wet for me, Princess.” I groan in appreciation when he moves to dip a finger into my dripping cunt. “Does this feel good, Princess?”

I moan shamelessly, “So fucking good…” He stops his ministrations. “…sir”

“Good Girl.” Another moan escapes me and I can feel him fucking smirking against my thigh while he resumes his teasing touches.

I feel his other hand on my ass cheeks again, which is unusual. I feel him tracing a line up my spine, then back down slowly, slowly, slowly. I know where he’s going, and he’s going extra slow to give me a chance to opt out. I consider it, consider calling “yellow” before his finger grazes my unsullied rosebud. As he gets closer, I find my curiosity is stronger than my instinctual aversion to anal play. I know I can call a safeword at any time if I don’t like it. So, instead of clenching my ass cheeks together in a protective manner, I arch my ass into the air, slightly spreading my cheeks in invitation.

His finger stops just where the cleavage of my ass begins and stays there. “You okay to try this, Princess?” I pause a few moments to consider the question, and then I nod to the affirmative, “mmm hmm.” He adds a second finger to my cunt, grazing my g-spot. He removes his other hand from the cleft of my ass. I wiggle my hips, not wanting to verbalize my question.

I can hear the smile in his voice, “Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll get back there. Just relax.” I huff in response. “Give me your word.”

I groan, “Cherries, sir.”

“Good girl.”