33 - ANYSSA
33
ANYSSA
(EPILOGUE—1 YEAR LATER)
ANYSSA’S THIRTY-BEFORE-THIRTY LIST
ANNY’S ANNALS
Aloha!
Hey, it’s me again . . .
A lot has changed since I last wrote to you. When I returned to Belle Baie, Mommy asked if it was okay to lease the home I purchased for her for six months. Of course, I told her that she could. That’s turned into a year’s lease because she’s still with Camila. I’m so glad she and Camila had time together to heal.
Anyhoo, I am back in Mauritius at Belle Baie. We couldn’t shoot Romance Abroad at Belle Baie last season because of all the last-minute changes and expenses that would be required, but they agreed to do it this season. We don’t start shooting until a couple of weeks from now, but there’s already been a surge in followers and subscribers. We’re sure that the ratings will increase one hundredfold as well.
Everyone wants to see the resort, and the Travel Channel will give the world an up close and personal view. I love Nazár for doing this. I keep checking with him, and he assures me he wants to do it.
Since we returned last year, he has found new and inventive ways to punish me because I’m always acting out. I know that he’s figured out that I’m a little brat on purpose just for the excitement and the promise his punishments bring me. During the day, he’s the sweetest gentleman, but at night, he tortures my body with pleasure, sexual stimulation, and pain. Then he denies me an orgasm.
Well, in a few hours, I will hit thirty-one, and only two items remain on my list: an act of exhibitionism and performing on a stage. I didn’t get to complete them last year, but that’s okay. I accomplished the most important one last year. I fell in love before my thirtieth birthday! While I wasn’t with him when my birthday came in, I knew I loved him. I just didn’t realize that the feeling was reciprocated.
Anyhoo, Mr. Dark and Kinky is waiting for me. He has surprise plans for my birthday. I can’t wait to see what it is. I can only hope it includes an orgasm.
Until next time, Anny!
Nys
T here’s something so sensual about a woman kneeling before a man, knowing he has the power to dominate her, tame her wildest desires, and unleash her most primal passions.
That’s how I feel kneeling before Nazár in this room of mirrors as he walks around me with the flogger in his hand. My nipples ache in the room’s coolness, wanting to be sucked, licked, pulled, or some shit.
Bared to him in sacrifice, I know he can hear my nipples crying out, begging to be taken advantage of. If not, then he should be able to detect my scent. This leather crotchless thong is drenched with my juices, and my pussy throbs at the thought of being touched, licked, or, hopefully, fucked.
Nazár walks behind me, cups my chin, gently guides my head, and tells me, “Look into the mirror.”
I do as he asks, careful not to meet his gaze.
“Do you like what you see, Princesa?”
Desire threads through me like a spider weaving a fine silk web.
Pushing that to the back of my mind, I concentrate on what’s happening.
I’m on my knees with black stilettos, wearing nothing but the crotchless leather thong and the collar around my neck with the bell hanging from it. My curls are pulled up in a high ponytail with just a few tendrils escaping it, thanks to Nazár pulling them free earlier.
My chocolate nipples stand alert, painful as hell. Nazár stands behind me in black dress pants, wearing a white button-down dress shirt opened down to the first three buttons. He’s still wearing his suit jacket from a business meeting earlier today, and his long hair is carelessly raked away from his face.
I long to touch the stubble along his jaw, but I know that I’ll be punished if I touch him without permission.
We make a sexy pair, though. Me in all my dark beauty with a prideful, haughty, yet submissive spirit. And then there’s him. There’s always him.
“Yes, sir. I like what I see.”
Who knew this type of shit would be a turn-on for me? But the evidence of my desire is dripping from the thong.
Nazár drags the flogger over my breasts. Its leather falls tickle my taut nipples.
“Do you know what turns me on, Princesa?”
“No, sir. I don’t.”
“I’m turned on by pain. Inflicting pain on others arouses me.”
A thrill of excitement burns through me, even as fear chases its tail.
“Do you know why?”
“No, sir. I don’t.”
“Because pain in its finest form is actually pleasure. It allows the person in control to dictate where the play will go and the other person to yield to the controller’s passions, desires, and whims. I will never disrespect you. I will always hear you. And I will never do anything you don’t want me to.”
“I know, sir.”
“There’s a saying that ‘pleasure is at the brink of pain and submission.’”
“I haven’t heard of that, sir.”
“I can teach you better than I can tell you, Princesa.”
A gasp escapes my throat, and I nod. “Teach me, sir.”
“Are you sure that you’re ready?”
“I am, sir.”
Nazár kneels behind me, cupping my chin, and slowly brings his hand down my neck to grasp my collar. He tugs the chain just a little. Unprepared for its pull, I hitch forward slightly.
“Princesa!”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be ready next time.”
“You should always be ready for whatever I bring to you,” he corrects as he flicks the flogger against my thigh.
The sting feels nice. This time, though, I remain upright on my knees, staring ahead into one of the many mirrors in this room. I don’t see the audience who sits in club chairs all around us in the dark as they each wait their turn to play out a scene.
This wing of BoDSMe is strictly for exhibitionistic scenes.
Nazár still holds the leash to my collar as he moves in front of me and stares down at me.
“So beautiful. A part of me wants to skip all the fun and move to being inside you. But the other part wants to hear you scream my name in pleasure and pain even more.”
I inhale deeply, holding my breath and wishing that maybe he would. I want nothing more than to be impaled with his dick, pinned underneath his muscular body. Disappointment soars through me as he says, “But I like the tease and the game almost as much as the act, if not more so.”
Nazár reaches a hand out to help me to my feet and leads me to the St. Andrews Cross, where he cuffs me. I wait in anticipation as he removes his tools and returns to me. The tickle of the rose slowly flicks my clit until he turns up the speed.
Nazár didn’t secure my waist to the cross. My body unwittingly moves forward, hips thrusting out to feel more of the touch of the rose. Just as quickly as I move without his permission, Nazár spanks me with his crop that has the rubber paddle. It’s more intense in impact play than the flogger or his regular crop.
“Ahh!” I hiss.
“Be still, my little wench!” he growls.
Alternating with the flogger and the crop, Nazár spanks my breasts, hips, and thighs until I’m sore. He takes little breaks to pat my pussy with his palm or tickle my clit with the rose until I’m on the verge of an orgasm, which, of course, he denies me. He found me playing a rather frisky game of volleyball on the nude beach without his permission earlier this week. At this point, I haven’t had an orgasm in a week.
When he’s finished, and I feel I can take no more, he uncuffs me and takes me to a pillow set up in the middle of the stage. Nazár positions me over it so that my ass and pussy are displayed for the entire audience.
Using a stainless-steel metal wand, he plugs up my ass while he uses a bullet on my core. Nazár’s attentiveness to my pleasure is simultaneously stimulating and exhausting. I want nothing more than to come as he works over my body.
My flesh still stings in certain places from the impact of the rubber crop against my skin, and that pain only enhances the pleasure I feel as he plays with me. I’m his toy tonight, and there’s nothing I like better.
When he’s finished with me, Nazár finally unbuckles his pants, kneels behind me, and takes me roughly from behind. Lifting my upper torso from the pillow, he wraps one arm around my midsection, kisses my jaw, and continues pumping.
“You may come now, mi amor,” he whispers.
He thrusts harder and pinches my nipple until I cry out in pain, and I release all over his shaft to the sound of an old grandfather clock at the opposite end of the room.
It strikes midnight, and the applause sounds behind us.
“Gracias, Dominio,” I whisper.
“ De nada. Feliz cumpleanos , Princesa.”
He just helped me check off the last two items on my list: an act of exhibitionism and performing on a stage. My list is complete, but perhaps the greatest part is that I fell helplessly head over heels in love with this man.
Happy birthday to me!
THE END