The Circle of Kink

May 17th, 2015

Sometimes, it is really nice to go back to the beginning.

We had a whips class Friday night, with a very entertaining teacher.

Through the entire class, I sat watching the presentation on a massage table, while he stood behind me, flicking the whip across my back. Making my hair flick back and forth to find his range. Coming up beside me now and then, to runs his fingers over the welts, and check out a technique being shown. A class is going, so I keep my mouth shut, trying to keep the squeaks inside. Twitching at every sharp crack. He’s picked up a whip now and then over the last few years, but we’ve really not done much with them since that first club. Gods, I’ve missed that.

Every major event that has had a vendor with whips, we’ve looked at them. He knows which one he wants. But the expense… I even considered finding the money and having daddy bring one up when he was coming to visit, but neither the money finding, nor the visit ended up happening.

Later in the night he ordered me back up onto that table, hands and knees, and flicked the whip across my ass and thighs. I squirmed and shrieked and threw him dirty looks. Until he ordered me to stillness, and I hunkered down, head between my arms. Still screaming, but staying far more still, though not completely- it’s a whip for godsake.

Then the tears came. The fighting to be still, the sharp stings. Over and over in the same spot. And they burst free. He checked in a couple times, grinning, as I sobbed. Whipping them out more and more. Then he came to the head of the table and kissed me.

How’d that feel?

Good. But not so good on my shoulders.

I collapse down flat on the table. He grinned and ordered me to sit up on my ass, now covered in whip kisses, as well as the bite marks he’d left earlier. Wincing, I comply. And he returns to flicking the whip against my skin, this time the outside of my thighs, with an occasional arm-shot.

I am covered in whip kisses. This weekend. And we still have a rope class to go. So grateful for this wonderful life I live.

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Please

August 4th, 2014

(Part 1)

His lips left hers, and she gasped hungrily, her hands reaching for him. He caught them in his, lifted them over her head and held them there. Kissing her again, pressing his body to hers. She sucked his tongue eagerly, hearing him moan and feeling him hardening against her. He grabbed her wrists in one hand, tighter, and his free hand dropped to a breast. He pinched her nipple, pulling on it, to elicit a moan from her, as well. Pinching harder as he pressed her against the bed.

Please, she whispered when he pulled back from the kiss.

Please what?

I want you, she tried to pull her hands from his grip.

Naughty girl. He tightened his grip, pressing her hands firmly against the wall above her. But I want you, too. His free hand slid down her belly, one finger teasing between her lips to rub her clit. And I get what I want. His mouth descended on her nipple, teeth replacing fingers, biting and sucking as she screamed with pain and pleasure.

Please! she begged between gasps.

Please what? he asked between bites.

May I?

Please do, and don’t stop. His teeth descended on the other nipple as his fingertips slipped lower, rubbing faster.

She writhed and screamed and moaned. Orgasming against his hand, arching into his teeth, forgetting all about her trapped hands as she let go and let pleasure break over her body. Again and again.

Please?

Please what?

Take me.

I thought you’d never ask…

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(Written With) Eyes Closed

July 31st, 2014

“Close your eyes.”

She felt the cool caress of silk brush her eyelids, then the material wrap around her head, a tight knot forming against her head, the tails falling against her back. His hands paused a moment on her shoulders, fingers squeezing for reassurance.

“Hands up.”

Fingertips brushed her sides, as he lifted her shirt up over her head, pulling it up over her arms. She heard it fall to the floor beside them.

“Down.”

She let her arms fall as his hands slid around her waist, his chest pressing against her back, as he pulled open her jeans. His thumbs hooked into the sides as he slide them down. His lips trailing down her spine.

“Step.”

She stepped out of her pants, and as he stood, his hands trailed up her legs, bringing goosebumps to her skin.

“Beautiful.”

She blushed and dropped her head, even though he was behind her and couldn’t see her face.

“Don’t. Don’t hide from me. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She forced her head back up, uncrossed arms she hadn’t realized she were crossed.

His hands were on her shoulders again. Warm, comforting. He rubbed the knots there, his lips resting on the back of her head, just above the knot.

“Relax. Let go.”

His arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest. Just holding her for a moment.Waiting for the tension to slip away. She breathed in his scent, absorbed his warmth, settled into his arms.

“Thank you.”

He held her a moment longer. Then stepped just barely away. Fingertips brushing her skin on the way to her back. Deftly unsnapping her bra, and gently sliding it away. It fell to the floor in front of them with a whisper. He kissed her shoulders where the straps hand left their mark. Soft, warm lips on heated skin. His hands slid down her sides, catching the last scrap of clothing dividing them. Sliding it down, he lifted each foot in turn to free her.

When he came back up, his arms lifted her with him, one under her knees, the other around her back. He carried her to the bed just a few steps away, and laid her down on the soft duvet.

“Absolutely beautiful.”

He caught her chin in his hand before she could turn away. Kissed her tenderly, and then settled in beside her. Light fingertips, running from chin to wrist and back up again. Tracing her collarbone, and running down her sternum to her belly. She giggled at the feathery touch and he kissed her again.

“And tonight, all mine.”
(Part 2)

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Hook-Up

June 20th, 2013

He was staring at her, she could feel his gaze as she danced. Every time she glanced his way, he met her eyes. There was no shame in that look, he did not mind being caught watching her. She was always the first to look away. Quickly at first, blushing because he was handsome. As the night drew on, however, she found herself searching for him.

She slipped off the dance floor, and he was there, right in front of her. She froze and looked into his eyes. They stayed perfectly still for several minutes, until he broke the spell.

“Would you like a drink?” His voice deep enough to cut through the music still blaring away, he held out a bottle of cider, just opened.

“Sure, thanks.” She took it and as he guided her to the nearest table, she continued, “You’ve been staring at me all night.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you are a very beautiful woman; and you didn’t seem to mind.”

“Thank you. No, not after a bit anyway.” She took a sip. “But, don’t you know that it’s rude to stare?”

“I’m sorry. Shall I go, then?” He started to rise, but she waved him down.

“Apology accepted.”

“Why didn’t you mind?” He caught her gaze again, held it as he spoke. “You kept looking back to me.”

“Well, you’re a very attractive man.”

“And?” he pressed, leaning towards her.

“And… it’s nice to feel wanted.” She tried to sound flippant, but it came out breathy, so she took another swig of cider.

“It is, isn’t it? Do you want me?” He brushed the back of her hand with fingertips.

“Yes. I mean… well, okay, yes.” She fumbled and dropped her eyes.

“Look at me.” His voice still low; his fingertips left her hand and lifted her chin. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name.” She looked into his eyes, trying to stay calm.

“Nor I, you.” He slid his fingertips across her cheek and jaw to the back of her neck. “But I know I want to kiss you.”

He leaned toward her, and she toward him, their lips met, his hand a gentle pressure on her neck, one of her own, slipping up to touch his chest. When he pulled away, she gasped for breath, her heart pounding and her body throbbing. She resisted the urge to thank him.

“Are you ready to go home?” he asked.

“With you?” she answered without even thinking.

“Is that what you want?” He held out a hand to her.

“Yes, very much so.” She took his hand and he led her out of the club.

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Monday Morning Microgasm

June 10th, 2013

Grabbing her by the throat, he shoved her up against the wall. His hand slid down inside the front of her skirt as his mouth crushed against hers in a hungry kiss.

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Tied Up and Tossed in a Corner

April 22nd, 2012

I asked to be tied up and tossed in a corner. I wanted to fight the rope. I wanted to sit and struggle and soak in it. So I asked him, and he said we’d see. The club can often make that impossible.

The night started with a new bit of metal from our blacksmith friend. A flat bit of metal with a double cuff piece folded over. Nice new hinges. He pins my wrists in and then hooks it up to a suspension point. I think I can slip my hand out, but I just hold on. I’m in socks, so up on my tiptoes. Then he pulls out his flyswatter. Oh god oh god oh god. I scamper and whimper as he grins.

Zap.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

Squeak, spin squeal, spin.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

“The perfect dress for this.”

Fuck. Ow. Shit.

Spin, Spin, twist.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

Yip. Squeak. Spin.

“Just think, when you’re tied up in the corner… and I’ll have your socks off, too.”

Whimper. Zap. Zap. Zap. Zap. Squeal.

“I have to have my fun, too.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zap. Zap. Zap. Zap.

Squeal and spin.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, sir.”

He takes me down, shows off the toys and then its time for class.

 

A young woman has traded him flogging for service. He gives her to us. Twenty minutes of massage a piece for his women. I sit in front of her, shoulders please. Her hands are soft, my knots are hard. But she does a very nice job, rubbing and working some of them out. I count the songs. Four and I let her know she’s met the time. Thank you, very nice. Toy is next.

 

He grabs the bag of 6mm hemp and sits down, smiling at me. It’s time. I step over in front of him and put my glasses in the roses. He looks up at me, considering, and I smile back nervously eager. Wondering what kind of tie he has in mind. Turns me around and starts on my wrists. Box tie.

Strange people in front of me, I drop my eyes to the ground, my focus back to him. Rope, delicious rope going around my arms and chest, through the armpit to lock it down. Second rope, lower arms, lock it down, pull in tight. A third rope, around the waist, tightening further, no movement at all in the arms. My elbows wobble and I can move my fingers, but that’s it.

“Look what I brought.”

Red clips. Oh god. Seven little red clips in a bundle.

“I have to make it fun for me, too.”

I whimper and scamper back a bit, a look and I come back. He reaches up to a nipple. Whimpering and squeaking as he puts it on. Left. Right. Left. Right. Squealing and swearing and breathing hard. Left. Right. Three on each, a line across each. I gather my control as they sink in. He waves the last one at me.

“Where do you think this one goes?”

I whimper as he lifts my dress and pinches in on the front. Shit. Fuck. Oh that pinches. Breathe. Breathe. Ow!

“Which one hurts most?”

“That one.”

“How’s your head?”

“Light?”

“From what?”

“Not breathing.”

I kneel down, drop my head and focus. I cannot fail so quickly. I can do this. Breathe slowly. Deeply. He moves away. Breathe. Focus. Okay, better now. I can’t fight the rope. I can barely move, but I can fight the pain.

A blindfold comes down. Tied around my head. He pulls me to my feet. Forward between tables and chairs, to a cubby. A couch. Down, lays me down, gets me a pillow and adjusts my dress. He sits opposite for a moment, someone else, too. Toy, I think. Then he wanders off. I can feel him in my feet, out past my feet.

I can hear everyone. Talking and walking, playing and screaming. I shift my legs, I feel my socks on my feet and I shiver, remembering. My feet, oh god, the flyswatter. I twitch for a moment, and then settle in. I can hear him talking in a group nearby.

Settle in, feel the rope, relax. Uncomfortable arms. Shift. Pillow moves a bit. Settle. Shoulder. Shift. Better for a while. I can feel him moving. Hear his keys. Hear his boots. Arms still annoyed. Okay, sit up. Feet against the other couch, a person there.

Much better. Sink back into the rope. I can feel him in front of me.

Zap! Zap zap zap.

Squeal and squirm. Twist and yip.

Fuck. Shit. Twisting against the lower clip. Ow!

Zap. Zap. Zap.

Squeal. Turn. Scramble.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

Fuck. Ow. Squeal. Twitch.

He zaps toy and I can hear her try to be quiet.

I twitch in fear. A few more shots on both sides. I think the engineer is nearby, too. Squealing and squirming. Legs up on my couch. He wanders away, but I keep twitching. I can feel him in my forehead, moving. Breathing hard, trying to relax. I can’t, yet. He’s right out there.

Settle in. Find comfortable again. Breathe. Keep track of the people. Listen to the electric booth. Listen for him. Move with the music.

He’s back. Zap. Zap. Zap.

Scream and squeal and squirm.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

Scramble. Squirm. Swear.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

Squeal. Yip.

Fingers. Fuck. Ow. Ow. Ow. Wrist.

It’s okay, fine now.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

Squeal. Squirm.

Twitch when he switches to toy. Back and forth.

“Oh, I know what I want.”

He grabs and foot and I whimper and fuss.

“Stop.”

I freeze, focus on breathing. Hold still.

Zap. Squeal. Zap zap zap. Scream.

Zap. Zap. Zap. Squirming but trying to hold my foot still.

Zaps the heel. Not so bad, the whole foot, not too bad. Toes!

Ow! Squeal and squirm. He lets it go and wanders off again.

I curl up, twitching. Trying to calm again. He comes back, sits across. Forehead towards him, twitching.

“Not really abandonment if I keep coming back is it?”

“No, just makes me paranoid.”

“Why?”

“Because the last two times you had the flyswatter.”

He wanders off and I sink back in. My left pinky is going numb, I shift and rock and enjoy the music. Cross legged and sinking in relieves the pressure. Rocking to the music, settling in to the rope. I feel him come back again and twitch my head slightly. Afraid.

“Look at her head. Are you almost done?”

“No, Sir.”

Wanders off. I can track him with my forehead. The music keeps me moving. Sinking. Back again, Smack.

My thigh.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Groan. Moan.

Smack. Smacking to the beat.

Groan into a scream and he stops.

“How you doing?”

“Good. Pinky was numb, better now.”

Something with the toy and she comments how hard it is not to talk.

Gone again. Sinking in, music, beat, rocking in circles. My nipples catch fire. They are suddenly awake and hurting like he just put the clips on. Stabbing pain. I rock harder and snap my teeth. Wanting to bite down on something for the pain. Shaking my head, swearing, rocking, snapping. Breathe. Don’t get light headed again. It’s just pain. Breathe, rock, snap, moan.

He’s back.

“The clips hurt so much, but I know they are going to hurt more when you take them off.”

“Do you want to orgasm?”

“Not without permission.”

“I could take them off and put them on toy.”

Oh god, I don’t want them off.

“Toy, don’t you want to help Miss?”

“Yes, oh god.”

“Toy, toy, toy, no, it’ll hurt so much, Toy, that’s not helping, toy.”

But he has her distracted and she’s agreeing. Back to me, and I’m lying back against the couch.

“Ready?”

“No, Sir.”

“1, 2, 3!”

Off comes the lower one and off I go, screaming orgasm, kick someone at the end of the bed, not sure who. Thank you, Sir.

“1, 2, 3!”

The first nipple clamp on comes off. Screaming, kicking orgasm. Thank you, Sir.

“1, 2, 3!”

And again, trying not to kick this time. Thank you, Sir.

“1, 2, 3.”

He waits for me to orgasm before he pulls the clip and I scream and arch.

“1, 2, 3.”

Again. Orgasm, pain, scream. Thank you, Sir.

Oh god oh god oh god. The last two are going to hurt so badly.

“1, 2, 3.”

Orgasm, and no pain. Thank you, Sir.

He grabs both, and I whimper and press back against the couch.

“1, 2, 3.”

Orgasming, fear, pulls, Pain. Screaming, screaming, swearing, crying. Riding the wave higher and rocking and sobbing. Gasping breath. Thank you, Sir. Breathing. Calming, settling back. Whimpering from the other couch. Toy.

Breathing, relaxing, He moves away and I sit back up. Rocking, weaving to the music. Sinking deep into the rope. Leaning forward to release pressure on arms. Rocking in circles, enjoying the music. Sinking, spacing. Gone.

Back again.

“How are you doing?”

“Arms hurt a bit, lower arms, wrists.”

“Are you done?”

“No, spacing.”

“So we should take you out while you’re still spacing?”

“Probably.”

Up and out. And the ropes come off, inch by inch. The pull of the rope on my skin sending me higher. Shivering, thrilling at the feel of it. Pressure releasing. Breathing and flying. Slowly lower my arms, raise them up to stretch. His hand on the small of my back, gently pushing me forward, to the opposite couch. Sits me down, dumps the rope in my lap.

Rope. Hemp. Oh gods hemp. I pull it up to my face, breathing it in. Lift my legs to brace my arms, bury my face in the hemp. Breathing, smelling, Shifting my head whenever my breath overwhelms the scent. I think toy has left the couch, sitting opposite now. I want to lie down.

I slide a hand over, no one there, just my sock. I lie down, curl my legs up on the couch. Rope still in my face. So far gone. I can still hear, but I no longer care. Rope. Glorious rope. So lucky, so blessed, so loved. Mind just floats. A blanket over me, fleece. I wasn’t cold, but it contains me. Keeps me inside myself. Rope and comfort and wonderful.

“Is she still asleep?”

“Not asleep, didn’t sleep.”

He pulls the blindfold off.

“It’s bright out there.”

“Yes.”

“You still have all the rope.”

“MmHm.”

“You have to put it away, you know.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is that what you needed?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Sir. Thank you, so much.”

I grab his hand. Kiss it. So grateful.

The lights come on. Time to clean up. I sit up on the couch and take care of the rope. Coming the rest of the way down slowly as everyone else takes care of the gear.

I thank those around me, for taking care of me, of everything. So lucky to have such friends, such family. The world comes back and we load out and head to breakfast. Such an wonderful night.

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Round Two

March 22nd, 2012

“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.

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Do You Want It?

March 22nd, 2012

“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.”

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Drumbeats

January 5th, 2012

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.

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In and Out of Space

November 24th, 2011

Monday. Contract day. He says he wants to get off work early to help us clean. The dungeon needs put back together. It’s been storage space since July. He wants to put up the suspension point again. Sounds great to me.

Toy is eager to arrive, but I’m not ready. Come to mine first. I finish eating dinner and we go over at 5. He’s aiming for 530. Toy is stressed out and grumpy. Grouching about cleaning for the first time in a months. But she does her share, as I do mine. He is waiting for the boss to leave so he can. Apparently the boss stayed late as he is a bit later than usual getting home. I remind toy of her promise, and she is appropriately dressed by the time he gets home, but not yet changed into play clothes as the dungeon cleaning awaits.

We greet with hugs and kisses and head down to tackle the dungeon. Tubs and tools and crates and wood scraps. Stage stuff and sawdust, and lots of bits of cloth. We clean and sort and move everything back where it belongs. A vise clamp comes out to play for a bit, fitting around our legs, my belly, and then making a nice breast clamp and head clamp. We reclaim his space and reset the furniture. Taping the mats together, we create a nice pad below the suspension point. He rigs it up and we each take a spin. Just right.

Toy and I go fetch some water and change our clothes, when we return, he has two candles lit and fits a new bulb in the socket. A nice dark glow fills the room. He kneels on the mat and invites us to join him. I drop down into my kneeling posture, toy beside me, him in front of us. After a couple minutes, it feels like silent prayer at church, how long are we going to kneel? Are his eyes closed? Is he moving? I glance through my eyelashes far too often, trying to relax, but eager with anticipation. He shifts to sitting, which doesn’t help, then grabs toy and pulls her into his lap. I listen to her whimper, and then he pulls her up and I hear rope hit the floor. This finally calms me. I sink into my position, eyes fully closed, relaxed and just listening to the rope and to their interaction.

Eventually, he positions her on the bishops chair to the other side of me. And starts making passes back and forth in front of me. It takes a few for me to understand he’s taking the floggers out of the tub. I start to come back into my body at this point, wondering what’s going to happen next. I feel him kneel in front of me, I hear him rub his hands. I know he’s going to slap me, but when the strike comes down on my thigh, I’m surprised. He slaps my thighs, alternating. I crumple a couple times, and one of them, I move so that his strike bounces off my left wrist painfully. When I get back up from that one, my arms go behind my back, protecting the sensitive joint. He starts slapping my face. Harder and harder, until I’m gasping and moaning. I get my eyes back open at this point, and see his grin. He grabs me by the hair and pulls me off my knees and onto my back. I lay there gasping while he shows toy what face slapping feels like.

He pulls me up and stands me under the ring. I grab it for support, my right leg doing fairly well, but my left still half numb. Toy looks very good in her box tie chest harness, sitting happily on the chair. He starts tying a tabletop with jute on my waist. Tossing out the rope and yanking it against my legs when it gets tangled. Most things give into his will if he tries hard enough, eh toy? Yes, Sir. We fiddle with where my hips are and he threatens nice tight crotch ropes. When he finishes the lower half, he steps over to toy to give her the first taste of wax. Dripping it across her thighs. She gasps, and likes it. He lets her process and returns to me.

Chest wraps now, teasing about duct taping the remote control vibrator to me. He adds a little more wax to toy and she squeals as he gets closer to her inner thighs. Just before he attaches me to the ring, I ask if he really wants the vibrator, he does, but he doesn’t want the interruption of fetching it. Ties my chest and then tries something new with the lower lift lines. Up I go, but it’s not balancing on my hips right, so back down and rigs it the usual way. Up again and balance it out. He gets a cloth and ties a sling for my head. I’m already spacing and he pushes me into a gentle spin as he returns to toy and the wax.

I was fairly well gone. Occasionally my feet or legs would rub against him. I moved them up and down occasionally. He put wax on her and took it off with a knife. At some point he poured some over the bottoms of my feet. I squealed a lot and when it got really hot, I jerked away into a little ball. But it felt really good up to that point. He asked if I was still in there and counted me to orgasm once, biting me while I did. I remember him scraping the wax off my feet. Some felt good, some felt really good, and some just tickled the hell out of me. Whenever that happened, I clenched my hands against my face in an effort not to squirm against the sharp knife. He dragged the knife near more tender bits when he was done, causing soft moans and ragged breathing. I can’t remember when he tied my ankles up, if it was before or after the wax, it must have been before, it relieved the awkwardness and some of the pressure.

At another point he was flogging the wax off toy and took a few shots on me as well, legs and then crotch. I think that popped me out of space. I was getting dizzy but it wasn’t time to come down yet. So he stopped me spinning for awhile and then he started playing Open Sesame with toy. Eventually she did, and then he asked her how many more she could take. She said four. So he counted them out, sending me into orgasm at three, and then counting 1,2,3 again for her forth strike. He bit me again, I think. I dropped back into space and he let me spin a bit more.

Then it was time to come down. Dropped my ankles, then my legs and I was standing, leaning into the chest rope heavily. He pulled out the lift lines and then undid my chest. I stumbled a little, but held the ring until I got my balance. He started to undo my legs, but then told me to untie the toy so we could clean up the wax. Reminding me of how to wrap his rope now.

I started to untie her hands, she pulled out, and got scolded for her impatience and desire for modesty overwhelming safety. I finished untying her and set her to sweeping up the wax while I put up the ropes. He returned and we finished off the jute. Then he sent us off to change back into our regular clothes as he sets up the massage table. Down again and we set to work on his knotted muscles. Working hard on his back, my hands are fairly weak, but toy still has her strength and we work together to find what he needs. Energy all coming down as we work, pouring out gratitude for what he has given us into taking care of him. It ends abruptly when his wife gets home. But a wonderful night of reclaiming the space and connecting with each other.

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