Back in the Swing

February 26th, 2017

MP&C is getting back into the swing of things. We’ve had a few weeks of really good numbers <knock, knock> this month. Getting people in from WW, from FFF, from Meetup (change your password if you use this site), from 50 Shades Darker, and from all the various word of mouth and newbie groups/meetings. We’re kicking into gear getting presenters (contact group leaders if you want to teach) for both Wednesdays and our Fetnights. And more crew is coming out each week, too.

He and I have been getting back into the swing of Wednesdays, too. We had some really great rope practice, trying out a different waist harness, in a couple different ways. I found it extremely painful, but I expected it, so could stay in it for a bit while we sorted out why. Then he tied me up old-school style, and I had a really great flight. Soaring up into the air, high enough to pull slight screams of delight as my tummy flip-flopped.

 

This past week, we had fun on the floor. The high points were full of people all night, working on rigs and ties, or just enjoying themselves. He decided to clean out his bag and I went to sit with him. He found his bag of clips and clamps and I ended up with clamps on my nipples and little red clips scattered about my body. Then he put one on my ear, on the cartilage at the front of my ear. This one just kept sinking deeper and deeper and brought me to tears in no time. I couldn’t keep my hand from reaching for it, but I didn’t want to actually touch it, so my fingers stroked my cheek and jaw right in front of it. Once he finally took it off my ear, the last of the clips and clamps he removed, he put it on my nipple. Then he ordered me to do five jumping jacks. It took me at least a minute or two to get to my feet and do it, my nipple so tender already.

The bag also held a bunch of Mr Malaprop toys, so he beat me about the thighs with those as well, as I sat beside him. He also pulled out Uncle for a few strikes to my thighs, chest and back, while I howled in pain. Both left some lovely bruises decorating my flesh. He also decided to use some of his favorite toys, that he always has with him – his hands. And squeezed the shit out of my calves, causing me to writhe screaming and crying on the floor. While I was there, he also smacked my ass, since it was right there in view, with a paddle or two. Squeezing my calves to hold me in place if I tried to squirm away from the strikes.

After repacking most of his things away, he kept out a bundle of rope and considered me. Motioning my shirt off, and saying not yet when I asked about the skirt, he began to tie. Rope tight around my chest first, and then around each breast. Cupcaking them for, either the first, or one of the few times in my life. Holding me tight against his chest while he tied and I moaned in pain leaning into him. He even put in a fuck-you line to complete the pain and difficult breathing.

Then he pulled out his whip and we were off to the corner of the room, so he had room to swing. With the tie, it was difficult to get my hands behind my back, but I mostly managed to keep them out of the way. He laid line after line into my breasts, while I squealed and screamed. He even had me turn to one side and the other, so he could catch just my nipples in the swing. A few off-target strikes here and there, but still today, my breasts are coated in red lines.

It was an excellent night of connection, pain, screams, tears, and love.

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Caning Sometime?

October 13th, 2014

It’s been a long time. Long time since I hurt so much the next day, and the next. Purple from above the knee all the way to the top of the ass. Various marks scattered around the rest of the body. Lines on left thigh. Bits of bruising elsewhere.

Been a long time since I dropped that way, too. Dropped hard when I got home, alone. The fate of a single secondary. Thank gods for best friends to email and a fluffy black papasan to curl up into. Woke up eight hours later, completely drained. Thank gods for boyfriends and scene partners who check in, and an extra day off this week so I could go out into a beautiful day and relax and buy groceries instead of doing homework.

The scene was so much fun. We’d been messaging for a couple months now. I’d been watching him scene with his partner for years. I knew it would be fun. I knew it would be safe. I watched him scene with an ex-metamore before I took my turn. She had ginger. Not my thing.

Nearly naked on a spanking bench. Towels of comfort under my head, thanks to his partner. He pulled out a selection of canes. Thick, medium, thin, steel, a bundle. Started with the bundle wide open for warm up. Back, ass, thighs, calves, feet. Up and down, relaxing. Moving the ring further and further up to tighten the bundle. Kneel up, with your hands behind your back. And gentle pounding on my breasts and belly, too.

Tightened it all the way to a firm bundle and a few yips began. Nipples so sensitive, I started twisting. Grinning so big all the while. His partner tossing in comments at him. He points out my smile. I’m laughing, it must be at him, he says. Warm hands stroking me back down to calm. Warmed up now? Yes.

We move on to the canes. Back, ass, thighs, calves, feet, breasts, belly, hips, front of thighs. He starts gentle, tapping, tapping. Then whap! And I straighten up, yipping, cursing, and laughing at myself. Tapping, tapping, tapping, whap! It’s a fun game of anticipation. I hearing him laughing, I am smiling and laughing, too. Between curses and yipes. What was that? Fuck, fuck, fuck! He laughs again. Warm hands stroking my tender skin. Nails digging into the bruises.

A thinner cane and we’re back at it. So tender, much more yipping now. The swearing gets louder. People are so close on my right. I only look left. Lying down, kneeling up, he plays my body back and forth. Breasts, chest, belly, back, ass, thighs, calves (so much swearing), feet (oh gods my feet feel so good). His warm hands soothing, his nails pulling sharper yips. My feet are tapping, my head is nodding. To the rhythm of the canes, to the rhythm of the music.

I can’t remember which came next, there was the tiny thin cane of oh my god stingy. He barely had to swing, so much stingy. I sit on my feet and he goes to the front of the thighs. This I know, this I breathe. Which do you want, calves or thighs? Thighs. So, I’ll do the calves some more. Of course you will. Cursing, yipping, so much sting.

And the steel cane. So heavy, so wonderful. I loved it. Such deep pain. I was flying high, yelping and swearing, twisting and clenching. Anticipating. His partner was cringing for me. Still smiling, still laughing. How’s your butt? Very warm.

At some point, I’ve tossed a few of the towels away, they weren’t folded right. And she took them and brought a bigger towel for my belly. She’s brought more toys, too. And a rabbit fur. I can barely feel it.

He’s got a stick now. A couple inches wide, curved. Ass so tender now, it stings. She tells him to turn it around. The yips have all turned to Fuck now. Two in a row? Okay. I lay down and brace. Tap, tap, tap until I relax and then two, hard and quick. My hands are flailing as I kneel up. Laughing. Three? Okay. I stay up. Fuckfuckfuck. More? I nod and lay down, looking for purchase. Warm hands. Tapping, Fuckfuckfuck. Five in a row? Oh gods… okay. Down, relax, warm. Shooting skyward, and then I’m sitting on my heels again.

Warm hands on my back, and I float back down, slowly, back into my body. Landing. More or are you done? Warm hands as I think, I am awake now, fully awake as I look up at him. I think I’m done. Okay. I hug him. Thank you. Thank you. He puts the stick down and rubs my neck and shoulders. So nice. I like this aftercare. Words come fully back, and I lean over to grab my dress. Standing for another hug. Thank you. And thank you, too. That was great.

Later, almost the end of the night, back with boyfriend after his scene. Talking. He has brought out the Pennsic Bastard to show it off. I am cringing and he strikes. A second one, straight to the crotch and I am down on the floor. He pounces. I am spinning and he is striking, I am swearing and he is grinning. Keeps hitting the same sore spots, so I keep turning. Hands on my belly and he hits one. I grab onto him, tears. We figure it out and I spin away, more strikes and more swearing. See, I played with you. As the Dancing Queen comes on. And he leads me through the dance.

I sit and watch the tear down. If I don’t move, it doesn’t hurt. Exhausted, time to go home. Another hug and more thank yous with the caner. One last hug and kiss from him. Good night, I love you. And then I drive.

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Birthday Wishes

July 21st, 2011

So, this extra post is inspired by a several things. One, it’s my birthday on Sunday. Two, toy was giving me a hard time about not asking for things I want (for my birthday). And three, he made a comment the other day that a lot of our play has been about things that he likes(it’s awesome and fortunate, that our kinks match up so well), and due to various things over the last week, he’s curious to try some of the stuff that I like. Thus the straitjacket on Monday. So, without further ado, here’s a short list of scene ideas that came to mind when I thought about my upcoming birthday… while at work… and bored… in the order they came to me.

 

    1. Obviously, over the knee, barehanded birthday spankings. This one’s just a given. It’s tradition in all parts of life, to give birthday spankings. So, I want bare hand on bare ass and dear gods, please over the knee, but hey. Girl’s gotta have something special.
    2. Clothes cut off. I have had this in my head for a while now, but I never really thought too much on it. But when I was writing this list it was second to come to mind. I realized that Every kidnap fantasy I have, they cut off my clothes. This is one I’ve never indulged (it requires pre-planning or the sacrifice of cute clothes), but apparently is a huge turn-on for me.
    3. Suspension. It’s just all kinds of wonderful and always on my mind. He suspended me last week, quick and dirty, but oh so nice, and spacy. Lovely. So, I think this wish has been nicely fulfilled.
    4. Sex. Oral. Masturbation. Well, duh, it’s fun. (I’ll get a little more creative further down the page.)
    5. Intense rope scene. You know the kind. Tied up tight, rope after rope, losing freedom bit by bit. Digging in, dropping down, nothing but you, him and the rope. Eeling optional. The kind of eeling that when you get something free, he just ties it down tighter. And you’re both exhausted by the time the last rope is removed.
    6. Electric oral. I’ve been curious about this for ages. Since the first time he mentioned it. In that kind of terrified, but oh so curious kind of way.
    7. TENS masturbation. I want to find the right places. I’ve played with TENS units on various occasions in various ways, but I’ve never found The Spots. Yeah, we’ve turned me all tingly and what not, but I hear stories of more and better. Of getting it to cross the clit. Of getting it to cause orgasms. So very curious.
    8. Vibrator orgasms until collapse. Writing this made me laugh, then blush. There’s nothing like a Hitachi going on and on until you’ve had so many orgasms that you’re begging for it to stop. And then being forced to have more.
    9. Clothespin challenge. I wrote this at work with ?’s around it because most of my thoughts were not around painful scenes. The idea popped into my head, inspired by Monday, and spurred on by memories of a game show. How many clothes pins would it take? How many is too many? I think lying down I could take more than standing up. I have this problem with breathing. And then what about taking them off? One by one? Or a big long zipper?
    10. Sensual flogging or drumming. The rhythmic kind, meant for spacing out and massage. Not the pain of catharsis, not looking for tears or challenge. Just music and thumping and letting go.
    11. Full body massage. This goes on the same line. Just soft sensation, of touching and caring and love.
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First Monday

May 12th, 2011

Tonight is Rope, maybe even suspension.

We arrive on time, head in and start cleaning. Check list complete, change clothes and cuddle up to talk and wait. He is home, a couple minutes to spare. We have a short talk about the cleaning and what it brought up. Toy and I go downstairs with tub #1, but he calls us back up because we’re giggling and he’s making himself dinner.

Down again when he’s done and into the recently cleaned playspace. I sit on one leg of the bishop’s chair and toy curls up at my feet. He likes the image of us there, and puts up the suspension ring.

Toy is pulled out to the mat, put on her knees, blindfolded and her arms bound in bondage tape. She immediately begins fidgeting with it. Up to the bishop’s chair, strapped in securely. Told to listen, be aware and think.

I am brought to the mat, stripped down, pesky new skirt takes some effort. He grabs a couple lengths of hemp. Arms bound behind the back, and then ropes around the upper arm, near the shoulder and then near the elbow. A simple box-tie, and then up to the ring. He grabs my legs and I’m in the air. Wow, interesting, ow, not so nice, squeezing the arms. Remember to breathe in between moans, and down again. So nice to be experimenting again, I tell him where it hurt and he moves some the ropes down a bit. Up again, the pressure shifted, better, but still uncomfortable, but oh so interesting. And then I’m upside down, and he’s giggling. Breathing ever so irregular, but it doesn’t really matter. I feel secure and bound. He drops one leg, but I don’t touch down until he lowers the other.

Order gets fuzzy here. He opens the chest of toys. I think the riding crop comes out first. Swats toy’s thighs and then my legs. Mmm, nice little riding crop. He digs deeper, finds the paddle with speed holes. A few swats on my ass. So painful, I spin and squeal. He digs again, nipple clamps this time, it’s a kind I’ve never tried. I yelp and he says he doesn’t have to be nice here. No, Sir. My heart races. He digs out clips for toy as well. Uncle comes out then. Oh how I’ve missed it. Ass, thighs, breasts. Are you ready, toy? Toy gets a few swats as well. He scolds me to be quiet for the neighbors. He doesn’t have to be nice here, but I should be quieter. Yanks on the chain. One comes off. The other is for Uncle. I whimper, my eyes pleading. He doesn’t have to be nice here. No, Sir. And off it comes. Leaves me to stew. Something scary that she’s going to like, toy says. And he pulls out the TENs, puts in on her thighs. I watch intently, curious how she’ll find it. She doesn’t say much. Intriguing and a few whimpers.

Toy’s hand has gone numb from the tape. He cuts her out, unstraps her from the chair and sets me off the mat. Grabs the sawhorse to put behind me and lays her down on it. Ties one hand with jute and then comes back to me. Takes me down, unties the rope, hands it to me. I drop to my knees to coil it while he ties her more securely. Jute on the wrists and cuffs on the ankles.

We tickle her first, one at either end. He pinches her sore nipples, she squeals and squirms, quite trapped and helpless. He gets a Violet Wand. Paintbrush attachment. I hear happy trees in my head as he starts painting her skin. I tickle a little at first, but then notice I’m getting mild vibration in my fingertips, so I just run them lightly on her skin, not sure if she can even tell, or if her mind is totally captured by the shocks. He asks her questions and she struggles to answer. Teases, and plays, we grin over her helpless form. He threatens a straight rod, but grabs a bulb with a coil inside, playing over her skin. We circle her, still questioning. She loses track, forgets to answer, forgets the questions. He turns it off, torments more, she still can’t answer, forgets more questions. I know the questions, I can help, I mustn’t. We could leave her there, go for a drive… He turns out the light and we back off, watching. Waiting, tasty energy. She can’t remember the question, Sir. He sends me off for Gatorade. I return, still watching and get dressed.

The light goes back on and he unties her hands, sits her up on the horse. Bends me over the end she just emptied and pulls out the speed hole paddle again. Paddles me as I squeal and squirm. Quiet not forgotten, but nearly impossible. I even cover my mouth with my hands a few times. He has me hold the paddle. It’s light, Sir. What? Light wood, Sir. I want to apologize, it hurts like hell, but the wood and the holes make it lighter than I expected. Should she have more, toy? Yes, Sir. And more come, skirt up this time. Stings so much, and I start to slip into painspace. Yelps turning to moans and heavy breathing. But then he undoes her ankles and bends her over, too. Swats her ass some.

There are twenty more, toy. Do you want them? Or does she get them? Or do you want to share?

I want to tell her we should share, but he’s asking toy, I have to be quiet.

Toy’ll take them.

As hard as I can swing?

And then she starts using my name and I add to the torment.

Oh, no, Sir. She can have them.

I thought I was Miss, toy?

She can have them.

I thought I was Miss, toy?

Oh, no, sorry, Miss. Toy’ll take them.

All forty?

Oh no, Sir.

No? So, she gets them? I thought you liked protecting people, toy? Don’t you want to protect her? Her ass is already quite bruised.

Toy’ll take them.

All forty?

Yes, Sir.

Will you count for me, toy?

Yes, Sir.

And forty whacks, she counts beautifully.

Paddle goes down, he gives instructions for clean up and goes to the couch. Toy and I clean up, putting everything away but the cuffs on her ankles. He says they can stay. Then we join him on the couch. Snuggles, light chat, and Human Cent-Ipad. Toy is a bit traumatized, so we watch Children’s Hospital which is all sorts of odd, and silly. He sets up the chair and we start in on his back and shoulders. My wrists are being funky. He asks me to set up the table. We move over and I have a better angle. I mirror toy, her hands are stronger, but I do my best. Turns over and we finish working his arms. Then he grabs toy and torments her with logic, while I stroke his hair and giggle. She is aroused and I am amused. We finish aftercare between the kitchen and the couch. Talking, Dr. Who and snuggling, a great first night.

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Joy in Pain

July 8th, 2010

Last night was an wonderful scene. It started out as teaching a new person about how we flog. He dragged me up from kneeling by the hair and asked if this piece of meat would do. She agreed and I was tossed up on the cross, shirt pulled up and targets drawn on my back. She had very light flogs and he had a set of heavy rubber ones. It was a good warm up, heavy hits between teaching and light swings. Hands as well as flogs. I enjoy helping teach new people, even if I don’t have the skill myself, I’ve learned to give feedback as a bottom. She went out to smoke and he took back the scene.

He used his hands, the heavy flogs, the really big deerskin flog(mmm… oh how I’ve missed that one), some slappers and paddles and a cane, the dragon tail, the stun gun and the electric fly swatter and a leather strap – on my back, my ass, my legs, my breasts, my feet, my arms, my crotch. It was a heavy scene, but not a full throttle flogging. He let me react to the hits – scream, jerk, fall, twitch – however I wanted to. He waited for me to return to position. I love that, I love holding myself on the cross, and getting back up to offer my body to him again and again.

He often came around in front of me, behind the cross to look at my face, to smile at me, and ask if I was crying yet. I was almost always smiling. He commented on it, he was not hurting me enough, I was still smiling. Where were the tears? It was such a joyous scene for me.

I was happy. I was not looking for a cathartic release, it had been a good week. I wanted to play with him, I wanted to submit to him, to give him my body for our pleasure. I did not need to be moved to tears, beaten to a pulp so I could relax. I always enjoy our scenes, find joy in our scenes. But last night it made me smile from start to finish. The kind of smiles that once drove a photographer crazy.

Even when I cried, triggered by a painful strike and continued by fear of the stun gun, it did not last very long. I was too happy and the energy was not the kind for tears. At the end, when I Sir-ed him, and said I wanted to please him by pleasuring his cock, and forgot the Sir. I was, even then, grinning and happy and full of joy and love for him.

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Turn Ons

July 1st, 2010

A short post today. It’s been a busy week and I have more things still to do.

What turns me on? I’ve posted about my fantasies. I’ve posted about my kinks. But what really turns me on? The simple things. What gets me going?

A deep kiss, full of passion.
The joy in his eyes and the smile on his lips.
A tight grip on my hair, right against the back of my head.
Light sucking and nibbling on my earlobes.
Harsh bites on my neck; inner wrists, elbows and thighs.
Hard pinching of my nipples.
Hard rubbing and sucking on my clit.
Naked bodies pressed together.
Sucking on a cock.
Open hand spanking on my bare ass.
A knife blade on my skin.
The smell of hemp and leather.
Rope holding me tight.
Pain coursing through my body.
Fear rumbling in my chest.
Giving up control, giving up completely.

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Shiny

March 12th, 2010

She was shiny. Head to toe, black latex covered not quite every inch of flesh. High heeled stiletto shoes over form fitting latex stockings, all the way up to mid thigh, stopping just short of a short slick jacket over an even shorter little black, curve-hugging dress. He was sure that if she bent over just right, he would see shiny black panties peeping out at him. Even her hands, nervously adjusting her clothes were covered in the stuff. She caught him looking at her and brightened, his smile washing away her nerves as she beamed back at him, shining as much as her clothes.

“You look good.” He held out a hand to her.

“Thank you.” She went to him, wobbling only slightly on the unfamiliar heels, stockings swishing as she walked, and took his hand.

“Turn for me.” He lifted her hand and she spun in a slow circle, giving him full view of her outfit. “You did well.”

“Glad you like it.”

He undid the belt around her coat, and pulled it aside, pushing it down off her arms to reveal bare skin from shoulder to elbow. He kissed and nibbled her skin as it was uncovered. He paused to hang the jacket on the back of his chair he turned back to her, running his hands down her smooth sides.

“I like it very much.”

He slid one hand around the back of her neck, catching her hair tightly, pulling her against himself. Kissing her softly, he ran his other hand down her back and over her ass, enjoying the feel of her tightly encased body. Slipping his hand up the inside of her thigh, he found what he was looking for, slippery panties to match her outerwear. He teased a murmur out of her and then withdrew his hand.

He stepped back half a step, and took another look at her, fingertips running along the curves of her dress, down her thighs to the tops of the stockings. He turned her around, walking fingertips on her thighs, and then trailed them up to the top of her dress. Catching the zipper, he pulled it down, savoring the sound. Then he peeled back the dress, his mouth following his fingers, licking, nibbling and kissing the exposed flesh. He pushed it off her arms and let it fall to the floor.

Grabbing her shiny hips, he turned her back to face him, and kissed her hungrily. His hands rose to her breasts, fondling, and squeezing. Fingers found nipples and pinched, eliciting a gasp into his kiss. He kissed down her neck and chest, first to the right breast, nibbling and sucking on her hard nipple and then across to the left, devouring her flesh as gloved hands stroked his hair.

His hands slid down to her waist, hooking fingers in the top of her panties. He glanced at her eyes, dark and eager. He kissed down her belly and then started to slide her underwear down, following with soft kisses over her mound, tongue flitting out as he slid them down her thighs and calves. She stepped out of them, gloved hands now finding balance on his shoulders, and he pressed in, with fingers and tongue, finding a different kind of slickness.

She moaned softly and pressed against him, her arms and legs still covered in shiny latex. He ran his hands down her thighs and calves, enjoying the feel of her as she shivered against him. He stood up, trailing hands from latex to flesh, and down her arms to latex again.

“So delicious.”

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, arm around his shoulders. He paused to savor the moment and then carried her to his bed, tossing her playfully down where she lay open and waiting to be fully devoured.

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Reconnected

February 11th, 2010

Do you want to do flogging or rope tonight?

Sure, get me the rope.

How much?

4, 8mm.

30s?

Yes.

Did you stretch?

No…and I stretch while he explains to her why.

Arms behind my back for a box tie. He wraps bands around my chest as well, a suspension-worthy box tie. Two lengths of 30′ and I could still eel out if I wanted to.

Do I feel screwed yet? No, I still have my feet.

He grabs the third. This one really constricts my movement, my arms cannot separate at all now, they move as a unit.

I still have my feet, but I know I’m screwed.

Up on the bed, legs crossed, he ties my ankles together, having to use a 30′ instead of a 15′ to make it sustainable, as the rope loops up around my neck. He wraps the rope between ankles and neck, tying it off to keep it from sliding. I have a wrapped handle on front and back and I’m proper fucked now.

He rolls me around, teasing, caning, Uncle. Writhing and squealing, gasping, trying to catch his eye through my legs, too close to the edge of the bed to protest too much.

He lets me breathe, then tests my trust. Balanced on the edge he lets me fall little bits, I shriek and he catches me, every time. I look into his eyes, the joy is there, the love is plain.

Time to test the new head box. He lifts me to the floor, setting me on the cold cement. The heavy box comes down, cutting me off. I am gasping, afraid Uncle will return. A stray comment and he is back, pulling my bra down and clamping my nipples. He pulls on the chain, pinches my thighs. I thrash and scream and he giggles. The box needs more padding, the hole is too big, I keep hitting my teeth on the edge. But it does a good job of isolation.

The box comes off, we give him feedback, he thanks us for trying it out.

Nipple clamps become a lead, he drags me across the floor, scooting and yelping. The right one keeps coming off, squeals when he puts it back on. Over to another chain, hooking them up above my head, I have to balance to keep from pulling them harshly. A bamboo cane now, ass and thighs, I roll and yelp and breathe with the strikes. He hits my breast and I squeal, my clamped nipple brings a scream as I find his eyes and his joy brings me solace.

My hips ache and he lets me down, having to reattached the pesky right one, yet again. Whimpering yelp. Rolling onto my back, pillow provided, the cane goes for the tender bits and thighs and ass. Then up to sitting again, he takes the clamps off, gasping and leaning against him. A moment’s reprieve.

The cane returns, I move wrong, blocking in a moment of weakness. He grabs my septum and scolds me, I cringe and grovel and force stillness as he returns to it harshly. I thrash, but keep his target clear.

If I feel teeth you’ll regret it.

I would never. My mouth is open with the pain, it will not close on flesh. Pain space is coming now, screams dwindle into heavy breathing. He moves around the body, I sink into it, and he lets me. Closing my eyes with a hand, he leaves me to drop into space.

The rope, holding me, cradling me, keeping me safe and leaving me vulnerable. My hands have shifted, but they still are held fast. My arms cannot move, but there is no pain. Circulation is complete, the problems easily solved. My neck begins to grow weary, I bring up a knee to rest it on. Not for long, I like the pull of the rope. The handle at my throat is not too close and pulls evenly.

I sink deep into the rope. I can hear the other scene, but I don’t care. I am here. I am happy. I am in His rope again. His hemp digging into my skin. Keeping me just how he wants me. Held in position, easily moved and open access to everything. A prisoner tie, and perfect.

He returned and freed my neck and ankles, ordered me to kneel, knees spread wide. He smacked my inner thighs, bright red hand prints. Pinching the bruises and putting me back into pain space.

Can I put needles in you?

I did not say no.

May I put needles in you?

Not tonight.

Yes or no.

I waffle, because my brain isn’t screaming no, and he wants to, and she has them, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. It’s been a big scene and I don’t know that I want to add that on top of it.

Yes or no.

No.

Was that hard?

Yes, my brain was arguing with itself.

My feet hurt from the pressure of kneeling. He pulls me up and begins untying.

The feel of the rope, shivers through my body. Murmuring, spacing. He drags it across my nipples and I whimper. Pure rope pleasure. One. Two. Three. So good to me.

The rope is off, we hug, just sharing the floating energy. The ropes are waiting, I sit with them, run them through my fingers, coil them and put them away.

Practice is over, everyone is gone. We sit for a few moments, reflecting.

Rope marks and bruises. Joy and love. We needed this. Reconnected.

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Erotic Shorts

October 7th, 2009

—–

Bullet

—–

She felt his hand in her pocket, turning up he dial as she lined up her next shot.  Her breath quickened as the little bullet sprang to life in her panties.  She barely noticed that her shot went wide and the cue-ball didn’t hit a single thing as she handed off the stick to her partner.

“You missed,” he said, pulling her against his leg, pressing the little vibrator tighter against her clit.

“Umhmm.”  She mumbled.

“Stay in control, little one.  You have to be ready for me later.”  He kissed her tenderly, turning it down just a bit.  “Wouldn’t want to distract you from the game.”

—–

Arrest

—–

“Stop right there.  Drop your purse and put your hands on the hood of the car.”

She didn’t turn, there was no need, the voice and the tone were unmistakable.  She pulled her purse off her shoulder and let it slip to the ground.  Taking a step sideways, she put her hands on the top of the hood.  She didn’t bother to ask what she’d done, it hardly mattered at this point.

“Spread your feet apart and then hold still.  I’m going to search you.”

He waited for compliance and began to pat her down.  She was not surprised when he roughly squeezed her breasts and massaged her ass.  Then she felt him kneel down behind her as he made a thorough search of her panties and stockings.  As he stood back up, he gave her crotch one last grope that made her gasp softly.

“Hands behind your back, we’re going for a little ride.”

—–

Hair

—–

His fingers slipped up the back of her neck and entwined themselves tightly in her hair.  He pulled her slowly toward his mouth, feeling a shiver run through her body.

“Behave yourself, little one.”  He whispered against her throat.  “or I might put you over my knee right here.”

“Master, please, you wouldn’t…” she stiffened and caught a moan behind her teeth as he bit a taut tendon in her neck.  “I… I’m sorry, Master. I’ll be good.”  She gasped as he release her with a single swat on the ass.

“You better, little one. I’ve always wanted to spank you in public.”  He grinned at her shiver and lowered eyes.

—–

Bite

—–

She stood blindfolded at the foot of their bed, listening and feeling him moving around her.   He slowly stripped away her clothing, running light fingertips over her skin.  She smiled and shivered at his touch.

When they were both naked, he slipped behind her.  One hand brushed her hair back, away from her right shoulder and then slipped around her waist.  His left hand slipped around her shoulders, over her forehead, to catch a nice handful of hair on the top of her head.  He pulled her head firmly to the side as he kissed her throat.  She squirmed back against him and froze for just an instant as his teeth sank into her neck.  Then she moaned with pleasure as he bit deeper and sucked hard on her flesh.

—–

Spank

—–

“You’ve been naughty, little one.”  He ran his hand over her bare back, bending her over the end of the bed.  “You disobeyed your Master.”  He dragged the leather slapper over her pale ass cheeks.

“Yes, Master.  I’m sorry, Master.”  She shivered at his touch, anticipation of punishment tensing every muscle.

“Too late, little one.”  He punctuated this with a sharp slap on her backside.

“Yes, Master,”  she gasped, “thank you, Master.”

He stroked the reddened flesh with leather a moment, enjoying watching her squirm.  Then he brought it to bear on the other cheek.

“Thank you, Master.”  She moaned as he struck her ass again.  “Thank you, Master.”

He smiled behind her, watching her ass grow red, enjoying every gasp and groan and Master that came from her lips.  “Such a good little naughty slave you are.”

—–

Collar

—–

“You have much to learn.”  He stood over her kneeling form.  “But if you work hard, I think we will both be very happy.”

She nodded silently, unable to pull her eyes from the bag at his feet.  It was from their favorite toy shop, and the outline of the sagging plastic clearly showed a collar within.  She could barely breathe through her excitement at the prospect of finally earning her collar.  So much so that she hardly heard him speaking again.

“…at any time, any place. ”  He watched her, knowing it was the bag that had her attention and not his voice.  “You will learn to be a proper slave to your Master without losing your self to the role.”

“Yes, Master.”  She replied, her mind reengaging at the key words of ‘slave’ and ‘Master.’  “Thank you, Master.”

“Good, my little one, now go get dressed, we’re going out for dinner.”  He pulled her to her feet and kissed her tenderly.  “I love you.”

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