May 2, 2013
January 17, 2013
November 8, 2012
July 21, 2012
April 19, 2012
The Struggle
Stuck. Fucked. Fuckable, for that matter. Helpless. Strung out and up and every which way. Tied up tight in a not-so-neat little package. Just the way she liked it. A challenge.
Eyes closed, focusing on every inch of rope as it touches body. Looking inwardly for the weak link. The knots, all in one place, rubbing tantalizingly on her ass. Left wrist in a simple cat’s paw. Right wrist in an even less secure hold. But both pulled tight, struggling would make at least one go numb and useless. Hair, always a weak link, and not overall helpful, but easily freed. Ankles were a little sloppy, they might be possible. One thing at a time.
Pushing up one hand and tilting her head back as far as she could. Fingers finding purchase on the hair tie string. Tugging back with finger tips, forward gently with head. Slowly, carefully, don’t pull too much hair out of her head. And she shakes it free. With a sigh, settles her head back to the floor, glancing up at him grinning over at her.
Wrist check. She twists and tugs gently, but not much movement. Not yet.
Ankles. A lot of wraps. Tightened in the center, pulled down. But some give.
“Five minutes down.” Crap.
Wiggle. Struggle, turn onto one side. Use the floor for friction, not much to get. Rub them together, just one loop. Over the heel. Come on, just one. Fuckfuckfuck, cramp. Breathe. Okay. One loop. Left foot. There, off the heel. Next one. Two, okay. Other foot. One, two. Wiggle, squirm, move them down. Four more loops to go. One at a time. More slack with each one. Keep breathing. Three. Four. Three Four. Last two, lots of slack, Off the go. Legs are down.
“Five minutes left.” Oh gods.
Arms. Arms are very stuck. Wait, knots are free. No, well, not useful knots. Damn. Um. Wrists. Gotta start at the wrists. How? Wiggle. Squirm. Would sitting up help? No. Just waste time. Cone, cone, cone for all you’re worth. Can’t, not enough movement. Stuck so high on the back already. Cat’s paw. Turn head, bite rope. Come on, pull it looser. Can’t, just as tight. Think!
Stop. Close eyes. Breathe. Think slower. Picture it. Okay, what can you do?
Nothing. Can’t move enough. Good and stuck. Flail, squirm, wiggle. Beg? Could beg. No, not yet. Twist. Push. Pull. Arms barely move. Fingers wave uselessly in the air. Nothing to grab.
Too much struggling, fingers start tingling. A glance shows his grin getting bigger as he alternates between her and the timer. Too late. Not going to get out of it.
She struggles to sitting and then standing, back into the corner she started from, glare a little less confident, smirk bigger, as he come towards her again, rope in hand.
Takedown
She glared at him from the corner, an impish smirk playing at her lips. He smiled back, weighing the rope in his right hand, left patting the coils hooked still to his belt. She braced herself, looking for a way past, as he pulled the coil loose and tossed the tails to the floor. Twisting the center into a cuff, he slips his own hand through, preparing for her charge.
He takes a step toward her, time is up. She scurries to his left, turning as he grabs for her arm. His hand slides down, but catches at her wrist and they spin in a circle together until he lands her up against the wall. His body trapping hers, he slides the cuff from his wrist to hers as she struggles to get away.
Wrapping his freed hand in the rope just below the cuff he prepares for his next move. Knowing the hand is lost, she tries to push it away from the rest of her body, readying for him to let up from the wall.
The pressure releases and she tries to flee away from the caught hand and the rope attached to it. But he is ready, tangling her legs with his and twisting her arm behind her back. And she is on the ground, a knee in the small of her back, her hand on the opposite shoulder blade. He lifts her head by the hair and slips the rope around the front of her neck to keep her from struggling, then feeds it through her armpit, because he know she will anyway.
One arm secured, she hold the other one straight away from her body, as far from him as she can. But he is taller, his arms longer, he grabs the wrist and starts pulling it in. She rocks and kicks and tries to force him off, but he is steady and stronger.
He twists her free arm around and up behind her back, across the first, pinning it with his knee, making quick work of the tie-off, then back over her shoulder and through her other armpit. Matching the first run. He brings the rope to the middle, tying her arms together where they cross. Vertically and horizontally, so she cannot pull out.
He grabs another coil of rope and she feels it hit the floor beside her as he tosses it out. He links the new rope to the old, she can feel him tying extra knots, just for (his) fun later.
And then it’s her feet. She kicks and squirms some more, knowing she has lost the first round, but not wanting to give him too easy a time. He gives up on elegant tying and just wraps the rope around her ankles repeatedly, pulling until she has no more slack to kick. Once immobilized, he takes care to tighten it down with a vertical wrap around the ankle wraps, and then brings the tails back to the splice point to tie off with even more excessive, yet decorative knots.
A small coil comes off his belt and he gathers her hair up into a tight pony tail. Tying it off, he trails the end back to her ankles, through the vertical wrap and down to join the linking knots by her ass.
He steps back, and she rolls her eyes up to look at him, not quite able to regain her earlier glare. He smiled down at the pile of rope and flesh he has created and leans down to kiss her forehead.
“Fifteen minutes, do you think? If not, I’ll just add more rope.”
And he walked to a nearby table to chat with friends while they watched her struggle.
March 22, 2012
Round Two
“Now for what I want.”
“Yes, Sir.” She gripped the cross legs behind her thighs and grinned back at him.
Crack Snap Crack.
He landed a hit on each nipple and a teasing mid-air snap in front of her nose. She squealed and tensed trying to remain perfectly still. Clenching her hands on the boards lest she reflexively cover herself.
Crack Crack.
Crack Crack.
She let out her breath in a scream when he finished, barely able to keep her hands down, as he laid two lines across each breast. Bright red kisses pointing to her nipples. Mumbling curses as she caught her breath, gazing up at his giddiness.
Crack.
She howled and bounced on one leg as he caught her thigh.
Crack.
He stopped her bouncing with a strike to the other leg.
She gasped and half-glared, half-grinned up at him.
Then she saw the light bulb and he turned to get a different toy.
“Close your eyes.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Her breath quickened as she strained to hear a hint of what he was getting. She could tell where he was, but there were so many toys there, and he was being careful.
She felt him return, closer than before, and he wasted no time.
Thwap!
She yelped as rubber floggers slammed down on her breasts.
Thwap. Thwap.
She groaned into the hits, keeping her eyes closed and her chin up to avoid the falls.
Thwap. Thwap. Thwap!
Left. Right. Both. She gasped and moaned at the hits.
The he picked up a beat. And the rocked together. Single hits per beat. Double. And then triple. Six-count to the beat of the music. She started with a groan, building into a moan and ending with a scream.
He pulled back down. Double and then single hits per beat. Quarter notes on her chest. Pounding out gasps and moans.
“Can… I… Open… My… Eyes… Sir?” She managed between gasps.
His response was to pick up speed again until she screamed and tried to collapse, but there was nowhere to go. Pausing for a moment, he answered.
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Sir.” She managed through ragged gasps, and she opened her eyes to see his glowing face before her. Tears filling her eyes, but her smile matching his.
He returned to simple beats, staring into her eyes now. They moved together, breathed together, energy flowing free and joyful between them.
A new song came on, and he picked up the pace. Not too fast, but fast enough to send her humming into space.
Thwap gasp. Thwap moan. Thwap gasp. Thwap moan.
Into six count, her head fell back, eyes closed, hardly remembering to breathe in as it all came out in a long, moaning growl, fingers digging into the wooden cross.
Thwap!
A downbeat to end the song and she nearly falls, but he is there, hand in her hair, holding her up, kissing her.
“Good girl.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome.” He pulls her off the cross and against his chest.
“I love you, Sir.” She wraps her arms around him.
“I love you, too.” He kisses her forehead and leads her off to blankets and cuddles.
Do You Want It?
“Do you want it?”
“Yes, Sir.” She knelt before him, eyes on his boots.
“Do you really want it?”
“Yes, Sir.” She resisted the urge to look up at him, biting her lower lip to keep still.
“I want you to be sure. There’s no going back. Is this really what you want?”
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.” Her heart pounded in her chest.
“Good girl, thank you.” How she loved to hear those words. “Go get it.”
She rose smoothly to her feet, wincing at tingling, but not hesitating. Slipping past him, she went to the trunk and found the single tail. Bringing it back to him, she knelt and held it out to him.
“Good girl.” He took it from her. “Up,” swatted her on the thigh as she rose again, “and over to the cross.” Chasing her with the tip as she went.
She wrapped her arms around the cross and braced her feet slightly apart. He snapped her inner thighs to spread them more. Her heart pounding, she concentrated on breathing slowly. The whip scared her, but she wanted it and so did he.
Crack.
She jumped at the sound by her ear.
Crack.
She twitched the other direction.
He was testing her, teasing her. She tightened her grip on the cross.
Crack.
He laid a line on her shoulder blade. She squealed and almost didn’t jump at the next strike.
Crack.
On her other shoulder. Another squeak of pain.
Crack Crack Crack.
Three strips in quick succession on her ass. She jumped and screamed and held tight to the cross. Gasping for breath.
She could feel his grin behind her.
Crack.
She hopped on one leg.
Crack.
He snapped the other one. She bounced and then resumed position, breathing heavily.
“Is this what you wanted?” He chuckled behind her.
“Yes, Sir. Oh, yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Do you want more?”
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”
Crack. Squeal.
Crack. Squeak.
Crack. Growl.
Crack. Scream.
She bounced against the cross, shaking it against the wall. Tears coming to her eyes.
“More?”
“Yes, Sir.” She gasps and settles back against the cross.
Crack. Scream.
Crack. Tears fall.
Crack. Scream.
Crack. Moan.
Sobbing, she clings to the cross.
“More?”
“Please, Sir.”
Crack Crack Crack.
The screams are gone, she cries and moans, deep inside now, letting go, letting it all go.
Crack Crack Crack.
Her body jerks at the hits, tears falling freely, breathing in new air.
Crack Crack Crack.
He rips free another scream, and she falls to her knees, but she is not done. She drags herself back up the cross.
“More?”
“Yes, please, Sir.” Her voice a hoarse whisper, but clear enough.
Crack. Moan.
Crack. Moan.
Crack. A soft sigh of relief as the tears quiet, she collapses against the cross.
His hand on her back, soft touches on stinging flesh make her shiver and smile. He snakes his hand up into her hair and pulls her back for a rough kiss.
“Ready for round two?” He grins and his eyes sparkle.
“Yes, Sir.” She smiles back at him.
He spins her around to face him and presses her up against the cross, kissing her tear stained cheeks before stepping back.
“Now for what I want.”
March 8, 2012
Special Request
And a special, bonus post, by special request of him, just in case two posts isn’t enough to fulfill your craving this week.
The movie was over, they hadn’t really watched it, too distracted by each other, but they had to go now. They had to get back to her dorm for bed check before midnight. The all-girls, private prep school she attended had very strict rules about being out of bed past curfew. She was eighteen years old, but her parents were not quite ready to let her go to college out in the real world, yet. So they’d sent her here, where she’d met the man of her dreams, and broke every rule to see him.
Heading back to the school, they crossed through a wooded area before the wide open grounds. He grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck. She leaned back against him happily. They had a few minutes before they had to be back, she decided.
“You’re such a bad girl.” He breathed into her ear.
“Yes, sir.” She smiled at his mock stern tone.
“Wandering through the woods at this time of night. Good girls are all in bed. But you’re out with a man in the forest.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You know what we do with naughty girls, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” She shivered as his belt slid free.
He turned and put left foot up on a fallen tree and bent her over his knee. Pulling up her skirt, and down her panties, he exposed her bare ass. Stroking it with his folded belt, he put his hand on her back to hold her steady. Then brought the belt to bear.
She yelped, and he swung again. Her yelping soon turned to moans of pleasure as she writhed over his leg. He reddened her pale skin, with harder and harder strokes. Until she began to beg.
“Please, oh please, sir.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, I want you.”
“Oh?”
“Please, sir, please.”
He stopped and let her go, she dropped to her knees in front of him. Pulled his pants open the rest of the way and eagerly took him in her mouth. He gasped and entwined his fingers in her hair, guiding her eagerness. She moaned as he groaned, and when they were done, he pulled her to her feet, and held her tight.
After a moment to breathe, they were off again, racing towards the dorm, and up the fire escape to here room. Her roommate was in the infirmary for the night, so they had it all to themselves. She shooed him under the bed until bed check came through a few minutes later, and then pulled him back up. Collapsing on the bed, he pulled her close.
“Such a bad girl, pulling a man’s pants down out in the open like that.”
“Yes, sir.” She expected him to be sleepy, but he seemed far from it.
“And now, you’ve snuck him into your bedroom, into a girls only dorm.”
“Yes, sir.”
He sat up and pulled her over his lap, keeping her skirt down to muffle the noise, he took his hand to her this time. Spanking the already tender flesh. She buried her face in the blankets to cover her moans. She squirmed against his lap, but he held her tight, spanking her tender bottom until her moans got so loud, the blankets could not stop them.
“Please, sir, oh gods, please sir.”
“Yes?”
“Please, take me, sir.”
He gave her a few more swats that nearly made her scream before flipping her around and back onto the bed, shedding his clothes and then pulling her free of hers. He joined her back in bed and covered her mouth with his to keep her moans of pleasure from waking her dorm mates while he rode her to exhaustion.
The alarm went off early the next morning and she shooed him under the bed again for morning check. Then she got ready and went down to breakfast. He snuck out the window while everyone was eating and she spent the rest of the day in a happy haze. Until the end of her last class, when the teacher stopped her.
“Headmaster wants to see you. Come with me.”
He led her towards the dorm, however and up to her room, where she saw the headmaster waiting. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she dreaded what was to come. He must have been seen leaving.
“Come in. Tell me, is anything amiss?”
“No, headmaster.”
“Is anything missing? Anything at all?”
“No, headmaster.” She knew better than to lie. If she said yes, her boyfriend would be arrested for theft.
“Strange. A man was seen climbing out of this window this morning, during breakfast. We assumed he was a thief. Are you sure that nothing is missing?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“Did you know the man who left here this morning?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“I see. And did you know he was in your room?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“Would you mind telling me what he was doing here?”
“Yes, headmaster.” She blushed furiously and glanced at the teacher in the doorway.
“Thank you, that will be all.” The headmaster dismissed the teacher and closed the door before turning back to her. “What was he doing here?”
She stared at his shoes, too embarrassed to answer.
“We could continue this conversation in my office, with a cane, if you would prefer?”
“No, headmaster. I.. I invited him up, headmaster. We had a date last night and I brought him back here.”
“I see. Tell me about it.”
“We… we went to the movies, and then we came back here to sleep.”
“Is that all? You saw a movie and you slept?”
“No, headmaster.”
“Tell me.”
“We… um… on the way back, he put me over his knee and spanked me with his belt and I went down on him. After bed check, he spanked me again, with his hand, and then we had sex before we went to sleep.”
“I see. You like that do you?”
“Yes, headmaster.” She was mortified, but lying would only make things worse.
“But you chose to continue the conversation here and not in my office with the cane?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t really like canes, sir.”
“I see. Well, let’s see how he did, then. Turn around and show me your bottom.”
What could she do, she turned around, bent over and lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties.
“It’s barely red at all. He must not have tried very hard.” The headmaster patted her bare ass. “I’ll have to see what I can do about that. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“By rights, you should be expelled and a letter sent home to your parents.”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“But that won’t do anyone any good, so how about this. You’ll march down to my office with me, and I’ll redden that ass of yours properly, you can even thank me for it, like you did him in the woods. And once I’m satisfied, we’ll forget this ever happened. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, headmaster.”
“Go on then.” He pulled her up and opened the door, motioning her to go ahead of him.
She walked down the hallways, her face bright red and her eyes on the floor. Those she passed knew she had been caught out, but very few of them knew what for. When they got to his office she went inside. He followed and locked the door behind him. Walking to his desk, he pulled off his belt and put it on the left side, then pulled out a paddle and put it in the middle and then a cane on the right hand side.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl.” He told her and sat down, motioning her over. “Take off that skirt, it will only be in the way, and the panties.”
She did as he instructed and then he pulled her over his lap. He started with his bare hand, spanking her equally bare ass.
“This is for sneaking out last night.”
He started out soft and built up, harder and harder. Gauging her moans and squeals, occasionally checking to see how wet she was. She squirmed on his lap, embarrassed but increasingly aroused. He spanked her harder and harder until she was gasping and screaming for him.
“Please, headmaster, please!”
“Please, what?”
“Please, stop and let me thank you.” She begged, remembering his words.
He gave her a few more swats and then let her up. She dropped to her knees under his desk and fumbled his pants open. His erection was waiting. She took him eagerly, and he let her, fingers in her hair, but stopped her short of finishing him off and pulled her roughly back over his lap.
He picked up the belt next, but paused, giving them both a few moments to breathe.
“This is for having oral sex in the school forest.”
He swatted her ass with the belt, pulling a gasp, and then another. He beat her already red ass into a deeper shade of crimson. She moaned and writhed harder against him, but he held her tight. His strokes slower than the first spanking. Enjoying the fullness of her reaction. When he had her screaming again and begging, he let her up a second time. And she sunk to the floor, moaning against his cock as she sucked on him.
He only gave her a few minutes this time before pulling her back up and picking up the paddle.
“This is for sneaking a boy into the dorm.”
He struck hard and firm, leaving it against her ass as she cried out. He smiled down at her. Loving the sound of the paddle the most. He struck again, and again. She arched and cried and tried to get away. Her ass sore and bruised already. He counted down from ten, and she screamed with each one. Then he dragged her to her feet and bent her over the desk, picking up the cane.
“And this is for having sex in your dorm room.”
He took the cane to the back of her thighs and her highly abused ass. Counting down from twenty, he held her in place by her hair. Giving her time to process each strike. Screaming into the desk and stamping her feet. She cried as she dug her fingers into the wooden edge.
When he was done, he pulled her back down to the floor beneath his desk and she took him a third time, this time to completion. And then collapsed into a puddle on the floor. He redid his pants, put away his tools and let her come back to herself before sending her back to her room.
“Next time you want a spanking, just ask.” He said as he opened the door and sent her on her way.
January 5, 2012
Drumbeats
Just let go. Let it all go. Just be who you want to be, be who you are, deep down inside. Let the beast out. Let the animal play. Don’t think, don’t rationalize or make excuses. Just do it.
She had arrived, there was no going back. The forest loomed black before her, she stepped out of her shoes, slipped off her socks and let her feet sink into the soft grass. Her coat fell from her shoulders as she let her head fall back. The stars above looked down at her, unblinking. She tossed her shirt aside and stepped out of her shorts.
And then she was running. Into the forest, into the night. She could hear the others, ahead, behind, to either side. All of them running with abandon. It was a night for the wildness. It was a night to be with the Earth and the Nature and the Beast.
Ahead there was fire. In the center, far from the world, crackling in the night. They made for it. Drawn to the light, the warmth, each other. Breaking through the trees, they found it.
Clasping hands, wrapping arms around each other. Greeting with hugs and kisses and strokes and bites. They crushed their flesh together, breathed and touched and tasted each other. All around the circle of fire, greeting everyone, touching everyone. Groups formed and broke apart in waves. No one spoke, this was not a night for words, only actions.
The fire-maker picked up his drum and began to play. The greetings began to change. Their bodies moving to the beat. Groups spread into a circle, hands or arms linked. And they began to dance. It was not uniform, there was no ritual, but the beat moved them all together. They turned about the flames, feet kicking, arms swinging, voices raising in wordless song.
The fire-maker, now drummer, picked up the beat, pounded away to the rhythm of their hearts. Spiraling higher and higher, the dancers filling in with the music of their bodies. Clapping, stamping, slapping and singing to the pull of the drum. Faster and faster, until they all crashed together again with a shout of pure ecstasy that filled the entire forest.
The drummer picked out a different beat, slower and heavier. They stepped apart, finding the rhythm alone or in pairs. Moving with purpose and showing the story of their hearts. Pulling out pain and worry, dancing it into the ground and the fire. Throwing stress into the air, to be carried off by the night wind. Tears fell, screams tore the air, the drummer beat on.
Their steps grew lighter. Their movements less strained. The drummer lifted his tone. The beats came softer, faster. They drew together again, joining hands and raising voices. The circle fully joined, they began to move together, hands raised, around the fire. Tears still fell, but the voices were filled with joy. The drum beat waned and the circle came to a gentle stop.
Breaking apart. Touching again. Hugging each other close. Pressing hearts together to share their joy. Kissing deeply to share their passion. Stroking skin to share their energy. The drummer picks up again, pulling on their energy to find a beat. Following instead of leading.
There is no dancing now. They find each other. Pulling to each other. Touching, feeling, sharing. Kissing, hugging, stroking. Letting go and being with each other. They find the ground, dirt and grass, and they are part of it. Bodies lying on the earth, bodies lying with each other. The drum their communal heartbeat.
Hours later, they lie still. All together, all touching. The drum is silent, the drummer has joined them. They stare up at the sky, the trees, the fire. They are part of it all. Part of the earth and the forest and the universe. Part of each other. Here and now, nothing else matters.
