Always (Masturbation Monday #215 & Wicked Wednesday #333)

Erotic horror really isn't my thing, but in honor of the spooky-themed Masturbation Mondays for October, I thought I'd try something a little different. It's more haunting than scary, but hopefully hot. I managed to incorporate this week's "spiderweb" prompt as well as Wicked Wednesday's "purple" prompt. There's also a little musical inspiration below courtesy of Adele that I thought captured the mood of the piece.

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Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)

Website: http://www.riarestrepo.com

Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

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Warning: Domination/submission and spanking.

Always

By Ria Restrepo

Copyright ©2018. All rights reserved.

Their bed had always been a place of solace, tenderness, and passion. Now, it was this cold empty thing she dreaded every night. Because he was no longer there.

Like so many nights lately, she finally fell into a fitful sleep, clutching his pillow. The barest trace of his scent still clung to it. She could almost imagine she was wrapped around him, nuzzling his neck like she often had. It wasn't even close to the real thing, but the illusion was enough that she eventually slipped into semi-consciousness.

She drifted there, somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, in a vast dark nothingness. It was the same thing every night in his absence—unending hopelessness. Not even a dream of him and the way they were.

Then something changed.

Warmth slowly enveloped her, so subtly she thought it was wishful thinking. But it grew more and more intense, along with his unforgettable scent, until the heat of his presence suffused every cell in her body. Gripping the pillow tighter, she almost wept with relief.

I've missed you.

Hearing his honeyed voice wrenched a sob from deep in her chest. "I've missed you, too. So much."

She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, not daring to open them. Because then she'd have to face the brutal truth. That this was just some grief-induced delusion. That he was gone for good, never to return. That she'd never see his handsome face again, never really hear his voice, or feel his touch.

The unmistakable feel of his calloused fingers lightly caressing her cheek made her gasp.

Be a good girl and let me see your pretty eyes.

She'd disobeyed him before, but usually playfully, to provoke a punishment. This time, she was afraid to obey. She didn't want to risk losing him again.

Do you trust me?

"Always."

Her response was immediate and unwavering. It was herself she didn't trust—and her sanity. But she'd rather wallow in her delusions if she got to be with him, even in this ephemeral way.

Then trust me now. Open your eyes.

She'd always trusted him with her body and soul, so she did as she was told, having faith that he wouldn't be cruelly snatched away from her.

Ever so slowly, she opened her eyes to see his apparition shimmering in the moonlight. Scrambling to sit up, she gaped at him reclining on his side of the bed.

See, I'm really here.

He was the strangest, most wonderful thing she'd ever seen. His mouth didn't move, but she could hear him in her head. His translucent presence looked just as he did in life. He only wore the ghostly embodiment of his favorite threadbare jeans and his trademark lopsided smile.

Unable to resist, she reached out and touched his bare chest. Her hand didn't pass through him like she'd imagined, but it wasn't like touching flesh and bone either. There was definitely something there, though—an energy that created a tingling sensation on her skin.

He took her hand in both of his, brought it up to his mouth, and placed a tender kiss on her palm. To her amazement, it felt the same as it always did—his large, warm hands surrounding hers, his soft lips, even his breath teasing her hand.

"How?" It was all she could get out as overwhelming emotion clogged her throat.

His smile turned wry. I never could stay away from you.

And she could never stay away from him. Gratitude and elation flooded her that even death couldn't keep them apart.

Are you still mine?

"Always."

Come, I know what you need.

He led her out of their bedroom down the hall to the door leading up to the attic they'd converted into a playroom. She hadn't been up there in a while, because it hurt too much. But now, she eagerly followed him, curious and excited to see what his dirty mind had in store for her.

The full moon flooding through the custom stained-glass windows illuminated the space in a rich purple hue. Purple because she'd always found the color comforting. The abstract cobweb design was a private joke about her being caught in his web.

They easily made their way between the various cloth-covered apparatus, only leaving one set of footprints in the light dust coating the floor. He stopped beside an object she knew all too well and her heartbeat speed up in anticipation.

He whipped off the dust cloth, tossing it aside to reveal a spanking bench that resembled a kinky church pew. It was wholly appropriate in this place where they worshiped each other, where she often knelt in supplication, and where he provided guidance and enlightenment to the many wonders her body could experience.

Arousal wasn't something she'd experienced in a while—not since he left her—so it was a joy to feel it unfurling within her, hardening her nipples, flooding her cunt with liquid desire.

Want to be my naughty girl?

"Always."

He didn't need to tell her what to do. She quickly stripped off her night clothes and got down onto the padded bench. Bending over, she relished the feel of the supple leather against her breasts. It was always thrilling having her ass up in the air, completely exposed and vulnerable to him—her lover, her Master.

So beautiful. So perfect.

His fingers lightly trailed down her spine to her ass. He cupped one cheek, kneading it with his strong hand, then move on to the other. Craving more, she arched her back, lifting her backside higher, pressing herself more firmly into his hand, silently begging for one of the many things she'd been missing.

Are you mine to do with as I please?

"Always."

The first smack made her gasp, but not really in pain. It was just a warm-up. No, it was the almost forgotten pleasure wracking her body that shocked her. He slapped the other cheek, making her sigh, her muscles relaxing, her entire being practically melting into the bench.

He continued spanking her, alternating sides, getting progressively harder—from a slight sting, to a deep burning ache, to a sharp knifing pain that chipped away everything she'd been bottling up. All the tension, all the agony, all the longing, all the grief. It all came rushing out. Tears streaming down her face soon turned into wrenching sobs until there was nothing left but the physical pain that was a welcome relief.

That's it. Let it all out. I’m here.

When she finally quieted, lost in that blissful place only he could create, he stopped and gently stroked down her back, murmuring soothing words of appreciation. She flinched slightly when he carefully massaged her sore backside, but then moaned when he dipped lower, exploring her slick folds.

Mmmm, always so ready.

She pressed back against his questing fingers. "Please."

Please, what, babygirl?

"Please, fuck me. Hard."

And he did, ramming himself deep inside her. As always, he knew exactly what she needed. Right then, more than anything, she wanted him to reclaim her, to possess her body as thoroughly as he possessed her soul. She didn't need sweet words professing his undying love. She wanted him to use her, to make her his once again and forever.

He gave her all that and more. She felt his warm body curve over hers as he pounded her needy cunt. One hand gripped a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. His familiar growl teased her ear.

Mine!

"Always!"

Come for me!

This time she obeyed him immediately, the pleasure rocking her body so intensely she passed out. When she came back to earth, she was in their bed, lying on her side. She was relieved to see his radiant presence lying beside her, smiling down at her.

"Will you stay with me?"

Always.