Monday, April 18, 2016

The Return

The following story was written with the aid of a special person that I have been getting reacquainted with over the past few weeks. She reawakened part of me that I had been loosing connection with. Thank you Little One for the help and the connection. 


Ulfgar leaned in close to the neck of his horse as it thundered down the road through the forest. The heavy breathing of the animal filled his ears. He could feel each beat of its heart racing and pounding as he pushed it to its limits. With each driving thump of that heart and each echoing thud of the beast’s powerful hooves, he drew closer to home. As he thought about seeing her—his beloved pet—his heart began to pound in rhythm with his horse. He had not seen his Little One for far too long.

"Damn those rebels," he whispered, then raised his voice to a yell: "Run with the wind, my friend!" he encouraged his steed, wishing to go even faster. He knew that he was being reckless with this pace, but he could not help it; the need to get back was overwhelming. 

Before he knew it, Ulfgar was passing through a set of large, sturdy wooden gates and into the courtyard of his home. He pulled up hard on the reins and before his mount could even come to a complete stop, threw himself to the ground, blindly tossed the reins to a servant, and made straight for the main entryway. Throwing the doors open with more vehemence than necessary, he began to order the servants to leave for the night; he did not want anyone around to bother him this evening. As he climbed the stairs two at a time, he began to remove his armor and weapons.

Pieces of armor hit the floor, making loud clattering sounds as they bounced across the hard stone. With firm kicks, the items were sent skidding away. The sound echoed down the corridor, and a woman came into the hall to see what the racket was. When she saw him—and that wicked, gleeful look in his eyes—she turned with a giggle of excitement and ran all the way to the back of the hallway, through an entry.

When he got there, he found her kneeling on the floor, naked and facing away from the door. With just a glance, he could tell that she was in perfect position: Her ass was angled up at him, her chest and forehead pressed to the cold stone floor. His cherished whip rested neatly on her back with the handle right at the top of her ass cheeks. Her arms lay straight at her sides, palms up. He always marveled at the way with which she could assume this pose, so quick and with such perfect calm. Her breath came so light and even that his whip did not even tremble with the motion. She was truly a treasure to behold.
Despite the fact that he had sent all the servants away for the night, he slammed the door closed behind him. As it shuddered in its frame, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the back; he had forgotten to remove his helmet.

With a deep growl of frustration and barely concealed rage, he tore the offending item from his head and threw it across the room. He heard it hit a shelf but did not bother to look as the impact sent some of his pet’s trinkets tumbling to the ground. He would contemplate the implications of the noise later.  

He caught her irrepressible shiver at the sound of his rage—it excited her that things would be especially painful this night. Her breath was coming quicker now, and he was beginning to catch her scent in the air. He sensed that she was eager and pleased at the idea of what he wanted to do to her.

He stalked up to her, caressed her tight, supple ass, watching as small bumps began to form on her tender skin. With one hand, he gave her cheeks a firm smack, with the other, he grabbed the whip.

"Hello, Little Girl, are you ready for some fun?” he asked as he walked around to her other side. 

When her answer did not come quick enough, he swung the whip and struck her full on the ass. A tiny yelp escaped her mouth with the impact. The sound was so subtle that he barely heard it, yet it drove him on, inflaming him to his very core. Even his soul was set aflame by such an erotic sound coming from his Little One. He struck her again and again, leaving painful red welts across her soft, yielding flesh. It wasn’t long before her body betrayed her: he could see the way her pussy was swelling, the wetness that shone between her thighs. He brought the whip down a final time with all his might; she screamed in a mixture of ecstasy and pain, collapsing to the floor.

For the briefest second, Ulfgar was worried that he had truly hurt his pet, but then he saw the faint smile she was trying to hide. He grabbed her by the hair and roughly lifted her from the ground, forcing her to stand. Once she was stable, he bent her head back, his fist still tangled in her long hair. The sight of her delicate neck exposed like that stirred the fire inside him even further: he had to taste her flesh. Pulling her toward him, he bent and bit down on the side of her neck. She stiffened at the pain, moaning slightly as it spread from her neck across her shoulders. He bit down harder and held her against his body when her knees grew weak. He could feel his teeth sinking into her skin. When her breath caught in her throat from the pain, he stopped and released the pressure. Pulling back to survey his work, he saw that his teeth had left deep marks in her flesh, which was already turning a bright red. There would be a hell of a bruise, come morning.

With a satisfied grunt, he began dragging her toward the bed. When he was near enough, he threw her onto it with all the pent-up passion and frustration of a warrior who had been away for far too many moons. She skidded and bounced on the soft surface, coming to a stop near the foot of the bed. She was well-trained: immediately, she crawled into her presentation position—the same one she had been in on the floor. As she was settling, he drew close to her, and his large angry presence made every muscle in her body quiver.

The bed shifted as he climbed onto it behind her, but still she tried to hold as perfectly still as her trembling body would allow. Ulfgar paused and looked at his Little Girl, kneeling there in front of him. She was so beautiful, and he loved her so much. He reached out, caressing her bright red ass. She twitched under his touch. He pulled his hand back and brought it down on her thigh. The sound and feel of his hand slapping her made him eager for more. He smacked her thighs a few more times, bringing a lovely red tint to her skin. When the color pleased him, he stopped and took in the sight of her again.

Her breathing was coming in shallow, labored gasps. He chuckled to himself, knowing she was trying to guess what he was going to do next. Without giving her any hints, he slid his finger up the exposed lips of her pussy, getting it nice and wet with her juices. When he was good and ready, he drove it forward into her. The feeling of his rough, scarred, and calloused finger entering her was enough to make her gasp loudly, and he felt her body clench down hard around his digit. 

Encouraged, he added two more fingers, driving them into her hard and fast. He enjoyed the feeling of her pussy contracting around them. He leaned down, his tongue grazing her tight little asshole. With a small whimper, she lifted her hips toward him.

He pulled back and brought his free hand down onto her already sore, red ass. "Did I say that you could move?" His voice was a stern, low growl. The dull thudding pain radiated through her ass and down to her pussy, which tightened even more around his deeply embedded fingers. 

He bent to lick her again, pleased when she remained motionless this time, and he worked his way down between her thighs. Removing his fingers from inside her, he sucked them clean, relishing the earthy, woman-taste of his pet.

She shivered and whimpered as his tongue pushed into the deep folds of her pussy, but he could tell that she was doing her best to keep still for him. Enjoying her struggle, he pressed his fingers against the hard nub of her clit and ran his tongue along her labia, pushing it in and out of her until he felt her body begin to stiffen. Her thighs and pussy were getting tense—a sure sign that she was close to her climax, which he wasn’t ready to allow. She knew that she must ask his permission first.

He heard her draw in a breath, knew what she wanted, and removed his tongue, giving her clit a little pinch for good measure. Suddenly, her entire body went rigid and began to shudder, and her juice dripped all over his face. Ulfgar sat back and watched as his Little One pressed her face into the bedclothes, trembling through her orgasm, even as she knew that he was undoubtedly angry with her. He waited until she was through, until she lifted her head, then, before she could even begin to form an apology, he grabbed her hair and pulled back on it roughly, causing her head to come back, her back to bend, and her ass to lift toward him. When she was crying out from the pain, he drove his cock into her without warning

She bucked back against him, whether fighting against him or trying to get him even further inside, it was hard to tell. Once again, he smacked her ass with all his might. "You will learn, Little One," he grunted. He pulled out, his cock now soaked with her juices, and drove it into her ass. She squealed at the sudden invasion of her most private of parts. He began slamming into her, brutally fucking her until he drew near to cumming himself.

Not wishing to be through just yet, he pulled out. Her breath was coming in gasps now. He wanted to see her expression, so he grabbed her ankles and flipped her onto her back. Now she, too, could see him—could see the rage that she had caused with her disobedience. Her eyes were big and anxious as she looked up at him, but when he pressed a large, battle-scarred hand between her legs, he felt how she was dampening the blankets with her nectar.

He climbed on top of her and wrapped one of his fists around her throat. "Now you will cum properly as I fuck you and watch," he growled. 

"Yes, Mr. Wolf," was all she could get out past the hand clenched on her throat.

He drove his cock into her. The force of his thrusts and his grip on her body made her squirm with pleasure underneath him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her hips toward him. Her obvious pleasure drove him toward his own climax, and he quickened his pace. 

"Cum for me, Little Girl," he bellowed as he plunged his cock into her one final time. She obeyed immediately and came with such force that she began to buck wildly against him. He pressed her firmly against the bed as he pulsed inside her, filling her so full of his seed that when he finally slid from her body, their juices mingled to slide out after him.


Before she could move, his arms were around her and pulling her close. He held her tight against him on the bed, gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you, my precious Little Girl," he growled into her ear. She sighed and nestled close to his chest and they both drifted off to sleep.

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