One Evening

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He gives you what you want.
2.7k words
4.08
27.5k
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WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,894 Followers

The front door closes behind you and you step into my embrace. Our lips meet gently, such a counterpoint to what is to soon occur.

Seemingly a few heartbeats later, we stand at the doorway to my bedroom. Although we are not married, I pick you up and carry you through the doorway, then set you down as you giggle at the symbolism. In a few more months, this act will no longer be symbolic - it will be real. But for now, the symbolism is powerful and heady in its own right.

I caress your cheek as I gaze into your eyes. It is almost odd to gaze into your eyes, the violet color unnatural due to your new contacts, yet I still lose myself momentarily, adrift on the immense sea the love and the admiration within you. As has been said about gazing into the eye of a dragon, time seems to stand still, and I relive our long friendship and courtship in the space of a heartbeat.

But then, we both know it is time. My hands move to your open jacket, and gently push the garment over your shoulders. Even as you finish removing the jacket, my hands are already at the collar of your off-white blouse, slowly releasing each button, the languid pace purposeful to increase the anticipation within us both. As my hands move lower to release the buttons over your chest, I am keenly aware of your deepening breaths, and when I look again into your eyes, I see that you want this very much, and I want very much to do this for you, to do this to you.

Your blouse at last fully open, I nudge the garment over your shoulders. As you fully remove the blouse and set it upon the bed with your jacket, my hands move to your breasts, stroking the lacy black cups which support them. I bend down to briefly kiss each breast through the aesthetically-designed cup as my hands move around your sides to you back, fingering the clasp as you cradle my head to your chest. But I soon kiss my way back up your body, reaching your lips, savoring your subtle whimper as the clasp is finally released, providing you a little relief even though your breasts are pressed against my lower ribs.

I step back, and together we remove your bra. You set it upon the bed with the other discarded garments and stand tall and proud with your hands behind you, smiling sweetly at me, comfortable in your topless state. Your nipples are already hardening, in part due to the slightly-cool temperature of the bedroom and the evening breeze wafting through the nearby window, in part due to your anticipation.

As the natural light fades quickly, I step away from you for a moment, going to the dresser, lighting the three tall pillar candles upon the metal stand. This also allows me to open the top drawer - the so-called "Drawer of Delights" - and retrieve the penis gag which you know so well. You smile sweetly as I return to you, your eyes sparkling; I am sure your mouth is watering a little as you ready your mouth to be filled with the fake black phallus. I smile as well because, while I definitely enjoy hearing your moans and especially your screams, I believe you wear the gag rather well.

You turn to face away from me and gather your lengthy black hair, lifting it up and out of the way. Standing behind you, I briefly kiss the exposed back of your neck, then reach around you, pressing the bulbous tip of the gag to your dainty lips. You kiss the fake phallus in your own personal ritual, then open your mouth to allow the invader inside. I imagine your tongue gently sliding around the gag, rememorizing its lifelike form, and I sincerely wish that it was my own lifelike form obscenely filling your mouth... but that must wait for another time.

The straps secured behind your head, you let down your hair as my hands caress your shoulders, your arms. For a moment, we hold hands as you lean back into my chest. My nose in your hair, I deeply inhale the orange scent of your favorite shampoo, and it reminds me of when we first met underneath the orange trees on the playground when I transferred to your school. I think of the cute girl with the pigtails and the frilly pink dress and in a way find it hard to believe that I am holding hands with her nearly two decades later.

...and even harder to believe that she is gagged and topless, and about to be the recipient of pain by her own choice.

Releasing your hands, I turn you around and kiss your forehead. As I draw back, I see in your eyes the knowledge that this is simply the calm before the storm. You are incredibly calm, moreso than usual before our heavier play, which alerts me that you definitely need this.

Slowly, I descend to my knees before you, my hands and lips adoring you. When I at last focus my attention upon your skirt, I lower the side zipper and begin to tug the snug-fitting waistband over your hips and allowing it to glide down your legs, ultimately revealing your favorite skimpy black thong with the embroidered purple-winged butterfly upon your mons. As you step out of the skirt, I set it aside upon the floor, out of the way so that we will not inadvertently step on it and dirty it.

Clad in only a thong and sandals, you look incredibly calm. I am still amazed sometimes that you share your body so freely with me, that you hide nothing from me. I lean forward, my nose pressed into the crotch of your thong, inhaling your natural scent and noting the slight dampness which anoints the thin garment. Your hands in my hair, you gently scratch my scalp as you hold my head in place, my hands cupping your firm derriere as I inhale deeply. But in time, I lovingly slide the thong down your thighs and help you step out of the final item of clothing before I cast it aside. The sandals are next, ultimately leaving you clad only in your smooth flawless skin.

I stand anew, taking you into my arms for a brief hug. Now that you are fully naked, the evening's core event can finally begin.

I return to the dresser, retrieving the leather cuffs and the fur-lined blindfold. You give no sign of panic or hesitation as I set the cuffs upon the bed and apply the blindfold to you, plunging you into darkness. After spending a moment caressing your shoulders and your upper arms while the lack of sight slowly makes your other senses more acute, I begin to apply the cuffs, one by one, taking my time, ensuring that you feel every nuance of the application. I note how your breathing slows as you focus on the sensation and the scent of the leather, and once the wrist cuffs are affixed to you, I kneel to add the ankle cuffs and smile to myself as you lift your wrists to your nose to inhale the leathery scent more directly.

With the cuffs attached, I stand anew and take your hand. Since you cannot see, I am careful to guide you appropriately, leading you the bed, assisting you in climbing upon the mattress and positioning you upon your stomach. Only then do I reposition the pillows, one underneath your head and one lifting your spankable ass a little higher. After a brief trip back to the dresser, I return with four short ropes and take my time in securing the D-ring of each cuff to the nearest bedpost, leaving you spread-eagle upon the bed.

"Now, my pet," I whisper into your ear as I gingerly stroke your lengthy mane, "it is time for me to hurt you."

You nod your agreement, your acceptance, your desire, your need. You appear to shudder slightly as you hear me unbuckle my leather belt and slide it through the belt loops of my slacks, which is good, for the lack of sight has clearly heightened your sense of hearing.

I stand beside the bed for a long time, completely still, building up your anticipation. You begin to squirm, nervousness starting to swell within you. The way you move is sensuous and arousing in its own right, made even more special to me because it is YOU.

Slowly, I move the doubled-over belt over your back, carefully lowering it so that it just barely brushes your lower spine, and you involuntarily jerk in your bonds and yelp around the fake phallus, having fully expected the first kiss of leather to be a kiss of pain. I smirk to myself, amused by your instinctive reaction, then rear back...

Despite the penis gag, your scream is delicious, pure music to my ears. Even though I had only used perhaps half my full force, your scream is loud - almost certainly because you had not expected me to strike you severely after having brushed the belt across your lower spine. The stiffening of your naked body, the way you pull against your bonds, the sound forced around the obstruction in your mouth... it all intrigues me, entices me, arouses me.

I want to touch you. I want to slide into you. But this night is not about me.

It is about you. It is about me hurting you.

Swiftly, I grab a handful of your black mane and pull, hard. Your muffled squeal is quieter than I would generally like, but your reaction emboldens me just the same. The belt rips across your fleshy cheeks again, adding a second stripe to your smooth skin. I pull harder on your hair, causing your body to arch despite the restraints. Your groan of pain is wonderful, and the belt descends upon you again.

...and again.

...and again.

...and again.

...and again.

...and again.

...and again.

Your reddening flesh is quite visibly stunning. The ripples of each impact attract the eyes. The way you pull vigorously at your bonds pulls lovingly at my heart. Your screams grow in frequency, just as another part of me grows from witnessing your body's reactions to the growing physical distress.

Although my erection is very prominent against the front of my slacks, although I want to slide into you again and again and again, the desire to hurt you builds within me, making me heady with the power I exert over you in your helpless state.

With one final, brutal strike across your sweet buns, I release your hair and roughly push your head face-first into the pillow while you still scream and flail. Your pain must certainly be consuming you, for you continue to struggle furiously in your restraints, your voice still ringing loud and semi-clear around the penis gag.

As I don the belt anew, you have a few moments to slowly calm and recover. Even in the candlelight, your reddened flesh seems to glow, testifying to the pain which must be wracking your senses. Leaning over the bed, I gently trace one of the red stripes with a fingernail, and it is enough to cause you to renew your struggles, to cry out around the oral invader.

I am certain that your heated flesh enjoys the cool breeze which suddenly wafts in through the open window. The breeze is good for me as well, for I feel a little warm from my own less-frenzied efforts. As I move toward the dresser, I unbutton and remove my shirt, hanging it on a bedpost. A few moments later, I return to the side of the bed, the thick-tailed leather flogger weighty in my hand.

There is no preamble. Simply, I strike you anew, the twenty heavy tails biting into your upper back. Blow after blow, I whip you hard, moving down to your mid-back and up again, then switching my attention to the backs of your thighs, enjoying your screams and you struggles, finding a keen sadistic pleasure in your agony and enjoying your natural responses to the pain...

When I relent at last, I admire the redness of your skin. These markings will clearly last for a few hours, the proof of the evening we have spent together. As you continue to cry out around the obstruction in your mouth, I set the weighty flogger aside and lean back against the wall, catching my own breath, my eyes lewdly stroking you.

As the pain continues to fill your existence, I reason that you deserve some pleasure as well. I return to the dresser and retrieve a large vibrating egg and the small bottle of lubricant. After placing batteries in the control box for the egg, I coat the insertable toy with the lubricant, then return to the bed. As the egg is slowly stroked along your feminine folds, your sounds begin to transform from expressions of pain to expressions of pain laced with pleasure.

Gently, I press the egg into your body. Your movement stills to make it easier for me to slip the toy inside you. Your sounds change from pain laced with pleasure to pain mixing almost equally with pleasure, and when the egg at last is fully inside you, your sigh is audible even with the gag muffling your voice.

As with the pain, there is no preamble. The egg rumbles to life at full song, its sound unmistakable despite its location deep inside you. I step away from the bed, leaving you in a world of subsiding pain and growing pleasure, retrieving from the dresser drawer an item I had purchased earlier in the week for this very situation:

A baby monitor.

I turn on the microphone portion and clip the speaker portion to my belt. Only after I have left the bedroom do I turn on the speaker, and for a moment, as I walk down the hall toward the stairs, I hear your muffled cries in stereo, which brings a smile to my lips and further reinforces my arousal.

I take my time, going to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water, then going to the bathroom to wet a pair of washcloths. The entire time, I am treated to your beautiful voice, and I know when you succumb to the power of the egg inside you. I only wish I could be the egg, to be bathed with your passion as I continue to pleasure you.

I still want to slide into you, make love to you long into the night. But this is about you. While you had only requested pain, you have certainly earned this pleasure.

As your voice peaks again, I stand corrected: these pleasures.

I turn off the speaker as I approach the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I gently wash the sweat from your reddened backside as my free hand slowly reduces the rumbling inside you. By the time the second washcloth is nearly dry, the power is turned off to the egg and it is slowly extracted from your dripping body. I stand anew and move slowly around the bed, untying the ropes and freeing you while leaving you in the leather cuffs.

You have mostly calmed by the time I help you to roll to your back, noting how you wince from the residual pain as your reddened skin touches the bed. Carefully, I help you to sit, then remove the blindfold. As your eyes adjust to the candlelight, I at last remove the penis gag, and hold you close as you lean wearily against me, working the discomfort from your jaw. When you are ready, I give you the water, caressing you as you drink, knowing you need to rehydrate yourself after having sweated and expelled so much liquid from your body.

When at last you leave the house, the pain has mostly dissipated, the marks are still evident upon your backside. The kiss we share is sensual and loving, and if anyone passing by on the street happens to notice, they see only two lovers saying goodbye - they do no know of the kinky activities which have just taken place.

WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,894 Followers
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AmazonBeauty1966AmazonBeauty1966about 5 years ago
Whoa

That was hot!!! Your ability to bring characters to life to put the reader in the story, simply delightful ... Thank you Sir

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