He had the most fantastic lips. She just couldn't draw her
eyes away from them. He was sitting across from her in the coffee
shop and she knew she was being rude to be staring, but she couldn't help
it. She stared in fascination at his lips. They were large
and soft and full. She could imagine them touching her. Kissing
her lips and down the side of her neck. Nuzzling her body.
His kisses would be soft, gentle at times, and almost biting at others.
She could feel his lips in her thoughts, nipping gently at her skin, licking
a trail down her belly. Those soft full lips on her clit. His pink
tongue sliding out between the lips. Her head spun with her thoughts
and she lowered her eyes, least he should read her mind.
The tree stood in the back yard, dark and imposing. It was
a large tree, with thick outreaching branches. The lowest branch
was 5' off the ground, and they spiraled higher from there. A perfect
tree. The yard was surrounded by high fences. No neighbors could
see in, and the closest house was 200 yards away. She
stared at the tree. It was a tree full of memories. In her
mind, she saw the leather straps hanging off the branches. She could
picture herself hanging from the tree, strap marks criss-crossing her back
side. She remembered him taking her, while she hung from that tree.
She remembered being blindfolded and left along, bound to the base of the
tree. So many memories, as she stared at it came to her. Good
memories. Pain-filled memories. She wondered absently if there was
any way to dig it up and take it with her when she moved.
"Take off your clothing!" The order came across the speaker attached to the wall.
She had followed the instructions on the note she had found in her mailbox. She knew the note was from him. It had read 'Go to the large, gray house on the corner of L--- and M------ #85. The door will be unlocked. Enter, then walk down the corridor to the left and enter the second room on the right. Await further instructions.'
She had complied to the letter, feeling excited and a little afraid. He knew that. He always did. He knew her fears and weaknesses, and exactly how hard to push. He always took her to the edge, no matter what the activity. He tested until she thought she could bear no more, and then he stopped.
The house had been dark and cold. No lights were on when she entered, and she did not bother to try to find them. The light seeping in the windows from the gray day was enough. She endeared the room, closed the door, and stopped. Staring around, she quickly noted that there were only two visible things in the room. One was a gold speaker box, mounted near the door she had entered. The other was placed up in the far left ceiling corner of the room. It was a video camera. Other than these, the room was bare. Light filtered in from the one small window across from the door.
"Take off your clothing!" The order came across the speaker. Slowly, she began removing her clothes. Starting with her shirt, then her skirt, and then the undergarments. The more she removed the slower she became. Fear was beginning to build. What if he was not even there? Who was the voice on the speaker? How many were watching the camera? Finally, she stood nude in the middle of the room, her clothes in a pile at her feet. She shivered, and wrapped her arms around her chest waiting for further instructions.
The speaker box spoke again, "Remove your jewelry too." She paled.
"Please, no..." she whispered.
"Yes!" came the voice.
It was silly, she realized, to be standing in the middle of an empty
room nude, arguing about her jewelry. It was not that she was afraid
it would not be returned, she knew it would be. But she _never_ took
her rings or bracelet off. Not to sleep. Not to bathe.
They felt as much a part of her as her fingers. And he knew this!
It was another test, she realized. The speaker was silent, seeming
to wait for her decision. The shadows on the walls deepened as evening
approached. Hesitantly, carefully, she removed her rings and bracelet.
She felt naked. Everything familiar lay at a pile at her feet.
She shook her head, trying to clear the red haze. The mists
parted, and the pain returned. Her body ached from the whipping she
had just received. They had been playing. She had been tied,
in the middle of the room, cuffs lifting her arms above her head, with
her feet almost off the floor. He had been whipping her. It
had started slowly, building up. Light, sharp stinging turned to
harsh, red pain. Her eyes had screwed shut with tears, and she had
bit her lip to keep from crying out. The roaring in her ears became louder.
Louder...until it drown out all other noises. And then the red haze
had come before her eyes. A feeling of weightlessness. Blackness.
Her eyes were closed and her lips were just slightly parted with
pleasure. Sensations coursed though her body. She leaned into the
man behind her who was helping to hold her up. Without his help she
probably would have been unable to support her own body. In front
of her, two others were touching her body. She could feel fingers
stroking the line of her chest, where her clothes just covered the tip
of her breasts. Another set of hands stroked her thighs, spreading
heat under the lacy nylon of her body-suit. She sighed, rocking gently
with the hands surrounding her. Giving herself completely to the
feelings in her body.
"There!" he stated, snapping the tiny gold padlock in place, now I am on my way to work. Be a good girl and be here when I return. I'll make sure you aren't too bored."
She wondered what he meant by that statement. She was bound comfortably in on of those round rattan chairs. It was one of those sliding chairs, where the circle of the chair and the base came apart. He had slid the chair so her head was just tilted up slightly, with her feet dangling to just touch the floor. Her wrists were tied with soft leather cuffs to just above her body on either side of the chair. Her ankles were bound spread apart to either sides of the base of the chair. And he had run wide bands of leather around her waist, under her arms, and across her thighs, making it impossible for her to move. Then he had attached clamps to the nipples just tight enough to be noticeable, not enough to be painful. And locked a chastity belt with two vibrators inside of her, around her waist. The last step he made to finish this process was to tie a blindfold over her eyes, and a bandanna gag over her mouth. The gag went over her cheeks and between her teeth, but did not actually have anything in her mouth. This simply made it hard to speak, but did not muffle all sound. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and then kissed her on the forehead. "I'm going to work."
"On a Saturday?" she tried to ask, but with the bandanna over her face it came out more like "mn n natrdny?"
"I'm sorry, darling, I don't understand you." He said cheerfully,
"Don't worry, I'll only be gone for a while."
She tugged on the restraints, testing their give. There was almost no give. Resigned, she rested her head back down on the chair. She could not see or move, and with those senses gone, the feeling sensation got stronger and stronger. Her body began to react to the vibrators and clips, and soon she had lost all sense of time as her body went in and out of orgasm. She began to wiggle against the ties, and clench and unclench her muscles in rhythm with the vibrators.
In reality, it had only been about 15 min. He had gone outside the front door and started his car, so she would hear him leaving. He had only gone down the block, and then parked and locked his car. Then he walked over to his neighbors house and knocked on the door.
The door was opened by the neighbors, friends of theirs. They had known (intimately) these neighbors, and played for the last year or so. Usually it was pre-planned and the four of them would spend the evening together. This time he had chosen to surprise her.
"She is ready" he said, knowing they would know what he meant. "Remember, don't do anything to let her know who you are."
They crossed the street together. He opened the front door and let his neighbors in ahead of him. He was not a participant this time. Just an onlooker.
At the sound of the front door opening she had turned her head.
She tried to call out his name but it came out again as "Mmnon?"
No one answered her. She felt panic start to mount. What
if it was a burglar? What could she do? Soft footsteps came from
outside the room. It sounded like a couple of people. She crocked
her head to hear better. The hair on the back of her neck stood up
on end when she realized that there were others besides herself in the
"A request, my lord?" she asked, quietly.
"I ask that you untie my hands and feet then lay back and allow me to service you with my mouth, hands and any other part of my body that pleases you, my lord," she requested, hoping he would agree.
His answer was to reach down and free her long since cramped legs from the spreader bars, and then tug loose the cords around her wrist. She mentally sighed in release and then stretched her knotted muscles.
"Keep yourself occupied" he commanded. Instantly her hands went down to the lower regions of her body. She was sore, but it felt good. He was pushing the restraints off of the bed.
"I await your pleasure, my lord." she reminded gently.
"Yes. You do."
The basement is set up like a gymnasium, and she wonders at all of his equipment. He guides her around, proudly showing her each piece and describing it's functionality. A horse, a balance beam, flying rings, each one available for other than it's originally intended purpose. They stop before one of the pieces of equipment.
"My latest acquisition," he announces proudly. She examines it. It is a set of two uneven bars, like those that gymnasts use, but they are set closer to the ground. No one could possibly be using these for parallel bars, she muses, I wonder....
"Would you like me to show you?" he asks, a wicked look on his face.
She knows that look. Instantly she finds she is wet between the legs. As if her body remembers even better than her mind, previous times.
"OK," she sighs with a mock look of 'if you _really_ want to'.
The highest bar of the two was just waist height. The second bar was about 12 inches lower and about 18 inches away.
"Stand over here," he orders softly, pointing to a spot behind the middle of the highest bar. She does so, watching he move over to a cabinet and pull out several wide ties and a spreader bar. She cocks and eyebrow at him.
"Well, you cannot very well understand something unless it is for real, can you?" He says with an innocent look.
"Ugh huh," she replies with a sarcastic tone of voice. He bends at her feet and secures two ties to her ankles and then to the spreader bar, moving her feet apart. When that is secured he pushes her over the top bar, checking to make sure it is exactly where her thighs connect to her upper body.
"In order to carry your weight without you straining," he explains. Her toes just barely touch the floor. He pushes her down so that her head goes between the two bars. And upside-down perspective of the world.
"Raise your arms" he commands. She complied. "Now hook your arms around and over the bar." He tied the other restraints around her wrists and to the bar.
"Well?" he asked, "What do you think?"
"It's interesting." She answered. Her head was almost even with her knees. She would have had a perfect view of his feet, if it were not for her skirt billowing down into her face. Her shoulders were pulled back, although not uncomfortably, causing her breasts to hang pointing directly at the floor. She could feel the blood rushing to her head.
He pulled her skirt up over her bottom and then tucked the underside around so that she could see. Then he crouched down between her legs. He looked pretty funny from her perspective framed upside-down by her legs.
"Do you _like_ your underwear much?" he asked, producing a knife from his back pocket. She shook her head and he carefully cut through the strings holding them together. She was hot, although she could not tell if it was from what he was doing, anticipation, or the downwards angle of her head. Partially all, she figured.
"It's a perfect angle" he interrupted her thoughts. "Perfect for
spanking, perfect for filling you, perfect for whipping...." his
voice lowered as his hand trailed under her skirt and down her back.
"...just a little larger than you think you can handle." The menacing sound of his voice echoed in her ears from their last conversation. She tried to imagine, pictures filling her head of his toys. She remembered his wall, and how things were placed so carefully on the shelves. She remembered too, how the toys had gone from small to huge. She doubted she could accommodate most of them.
"...just a little larger than you think you can handle...." the echo
came again in her brain. The thought excited her. Frightened
her. Made her shiver with anticipation of their next meeting.
He wanted it. Wanted her to use him to pleasure herself. She was new at this, shy and unsure. Embarrassed. He had allowed her to tie him, spread eagled to the bed. Face up. Pointing. The lights were out but she had blindfolded him anyway, the thought that he could not see taking away the majority of her embarrassment and inhibitions.
Hesitantly she started at his neck, slowly moving down his chest and then lower, teasing, kissing and biting. In a quiet tone he urged her to use him to please herself, working on her pleasure not his. She paused what she had been doing and slowly mounted him. Facing him, confident he couldn't see her, she began to ride him, while pinching her nipples with her fingers.
As she came closer and closer to orgasm the last of her inhibitions melted, and she leaned into him, offering his mouth her nipple. He knew what she liked and instantly accepted the offer, her moans and pauses in her strokes spurning him on. Gasping, she pulled away, only to resume riding him and stroking her clit. Her pace became faster and faster and he felt her muscles contracting around him as she cried out his name.
When she came back down toward earth she realized he still had
not cum. She had been so wrapped up in her own pleasure she had not
even concentrated on his. She turned around, facing the other
direction. The position meant he could go deeper, or rather, she
could with him. She wiggled, settled down, and began stroking his
balls with her hands. Gently squeezing, listening to him gasp.
He could feel her moving up and down on him, the sensations driving him
crazy. They moved rhythmically together. Bringing each other