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Synopsis: Man meets woman, and they decide to team up for some kinky (and painful) sex. There is an excuse of a plot wrapped around it like a tiny loincloth.
Anna is a beautiful young woman (well, of course she is, who would write about an ugly woman? I mean, this is fiction, after all). She stands 165cm 'tall' (sorry, no feet and inches today, metric it is), on shapely legs and looks at the world out of warm, blue eyes that form a nice counterpoint to her brownish-red hair. Her hair is cut at her neckline, framing her beautiful face. Her breasts are not overly large, but round and firm.
Her dancing partner did not show up today (Friday, by the way), and since I am new to this town (and this dancing club), I haven't found a partner yet. With neither of us having a training partner, we decide to team up for the lesson. Must be my lucky day. That feeling stays, right until the first Tango, third bar. I take a step backward, she a step forward. Suddenly, sharp pain shoots to my brain; the epicentre is located somewhere in my left foot. Have you ever made close contact with the tiny 7cm heel of a woman's dancing shoe, nickname 'steel drill'? Well, don't. Ever.
She apologises over and over. I notice she is very cute when she does that (apologising, not spearing my foot with her heel, obviously). I muster a smile and tell her not to worry. After all, since I'm the one who's leading, everything that happens is my fault anyway. "Well, then why don't you let me lead for a while. That way, you can at least be mad at me when I step on you again...". Great, she's funny too. "Let you lead? And give up the last bastion of male dominance in the world? Never!" She smiles at me, and I take up the heavy burden of leadership once more.
After the lesson, when I have changed out of my dancing shoes, and she has changed out of her instruments of terror, she steps up to me again. "I still feel bad about stepping on your foot. Can I try to make it up to you, say, by inviting to you to dinner?" "Well, cliché as it is, but I try never to decline a dinner invitation by a beautiful woman!"
Since, as she put it, "her cooking skills were not all they could be", and "she had done enough damage to me already", we decided to head for a nice restaurant. Mhh, French cuisine. You can say about the French what you will, sometimes they can be proud, overbearing, arrogant even. But after a real four hour French meal with all the trimmings, you are ready to forgive them anything. (Actually, I rather like the French, I just thought this might sound cool.)
Dinner was a pleasant affair. But let's face it, you are not here for the small talk, so I'll spare you and skip ahead to desert (mousse au chocolat, followed by a selection of cheese - if there is a heaven, I just found it!). The conversation had already covered the basics, and was now moving to more interesting things.
"So," she says, "you like a challenge? Is that a challenge to gain the upper hand, or a challenge just for the game's sake?" "Actually, it's a challenge to keep the upper hand. Naturally." "Naturally. Does that apply to all areas of your life, or just your work?" "Oh, it probably does not apply to all areas, but right now I can't think of any examples. Why, are you thinking of challenging me somehow?" "Ah, never mind. You probably couldn't handle me anyway." "You? Now that's rather impertinent. You are quite naughty, aren't you. Maybe I should do something about that." "Really? Well, why don't we go someplace else then and see if you can?"
'Someplace else' turned out to be my house, since it offered more comfort than her apartment. Since that was a little farther away than her place, 'go' meant driving. And since a French dinner wouldn't be a French dinner without wine, 'driving' meant calling a cab.
When the cab had driven off, and the door had closed behind us, without switching on the lights, I take her shoulder in my hand and say "Tell me what you really want. What you usually wouldn't dare ask at a first time. What you wouldn't tell your friends about. What you really, really want. Tell me." She just stands there for a while. I hold her shoulder, reassuring, but not demanding or eager. Finally, she speaks. "I... I want to..." She swallows. "I want you to hurt me. Bad." "That can be arranged." I put my other arm around her hips and hold her closer. "Define 'bad'. What do you consider being hurt bad. Clothespins on your breasts? On your nipples? A paddle? Candle wax? Just how bad is 'bad'?" "I want to be whipped! Tortured! I want you to stick needles in my breast! Can you handle that? Can you handle me? Tell me?!" "All right. There is one thing you need to know before we start. When we 'play', you will have two save words. Don't interrupt. The first one is 'yellow'. It is a warning. It means that you are close to your limit, that you are not turned on by what is happening, or rather the opposite. It is a plea for me to back off a little. Now, that one is optional for me. It gives me information about your state of mind (and body). I can ignore it, or act on it if I choose to. The second one is 'red'. It means 'stop whatever you are doing, untie me, let me go.' You should use it if you are in intolerable pain, if you think you will go insane if the pain does not stop, or if you are in any physical danger. However, be careful when to use it. If you do, the session is over, and we will not try again for at least two days, even if you want to. There are two reasons for the two-day delay. First, if you have to say 'red', something has gone very wrong. We both need time to think about it. Second, knowing that it will end the session prematurely will encourage you to hold out a little longer, to suffer a little more. Hopefully, it will also add to your arousal. So, remember, 'yellow' and 'red'. If you are gagged and need to speak, wiggle your fingers and toes. Of course, as long as you are not gagged, feel free to tell me about your current feelings. As I don't know you very well yet, it will give me a better idea of what you like - and what you don't like. Any questions?" Slowly, she shakes her head no. I take her to my bedroom.
I adjust the lights to a comfortable level, then quickly move some small tables and cupboards out of the way. This reveals two small hooks on the floor, about 2 metres apart. Two identical hooks are just above them in the ceiling, covered by a lamp. First I secure each of her feet to one of the hooks on the floor, then I tie her hands to the ones in the ceiling. I pull the ropes tight, so that she is stretched a little, although her feet still touch the ground.
I gently stroke her lower arms, the insides of her elbows, her lower arms again. Her sides, her legs, her thighs, her hips, her belly. Her torso, just between the breasts. I circle the left one, then the right one. I trace my way back down to her belly button. Further down, to the left thigh. A short brush against her labia, then her right thigh. Smack. I hit her right breast. She yelps, more in surprise than in pain. I am using a riding crop with a broad leather end. It has a certain sting to it, but it's not really painful. I hit her again, on her other breast, then on the underside. The right one again. Now on her nipples. I cover her breasts with light, steady blows. She squirms in her bonds, moans softly. I increase the strength of the blows. Now her arms. Her armpits. Her belly. Her legs. Her moaning get louder. I hit her thighs. Suddenly, a hard blow directly between her legs. A shriek. Her thighs again. Upwards to her breasts. Her chest heaves in arousal. I'm leaving a red trail on her skin, covering more and more of her body.
She is squirming in her bonds, her hips moving oh-so-gently. She moans. That's when I exchange the crop for a whip. Her breasts and pubic area are my main targets - which translates into higher pitches moans and some screams. When I increase the strength behind the blows, her volume rises with it. Crack. Crack. Crack. Across her nipples now. Crack. The underside of her breasts. Crack. Crack. Between her legs. Crack. Another one on her pussy lips. Crack. Now right between the protective folds of her labia. Crack. Harder. Crack. She shrieks. In between, I caress her nipples, stroke her breasts, lightly touch her sides. Crack.
She really does get turned on by pain! She is quite wet. Delectable. I quickly put the whip aside and collect a few other toys. She moans at her loss, when I stop whipping her. However, soon after, the voices she makes are more pleasurable. That may or may not have something to do with the small steel phallus I pushed inside her. Attached to it is a lengthy cable, that I now connect to one of my favourite gadgets (for those of you that know what I'm talking about: an ET312, with the output set to 'high', program 'intense', MA at full, and the A channel used between 20 and 60 percent). Another cable is soon connected to a conductive pad that I place right above her clitoris. Some tape helps ensure its immobility. After switching on my favourite gadget, I slowly turn up the power. Electric current runs through Anna's pussy directly into her clit, which she acknowledges with a tight moan. At first, it is just a prickling and tingling, a feeling similar to blood rushing back into a limb that had been tied off. The tingling increases in intensity as I turn up the dial. A yelp, as I shortly turn it up quite a bit. A content purr when I turn it back down to where it was, then slowly up again. This is intensely arousing for her, as is evident by the thick fluids oozing down her legs. Suddenly, I take up the whip again and start lashing her breasts. Left. Right. Left. Right. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Her nipples. Crack. The underside. Crack. The power a bit more up. Crack. A bit more. Crack. Another slow turn at the dial. Anna writhes against the ropes, straining to move her pussy against something - anything - that will offer some resistance. As she is nearly hanging from her arms, she meets only air. Her cheeks flush as her arousal grows.
With her arousal, her tolerance for pain increases. I quickly fetch a pair of nipple clamps to finish the ensemble. And I am not talking about rubber-softened clover clamps here or anything like that, I am talking about metal alligator clamps with a rather strong bite. Thus, Anna gasps when I fasten the first one to her right nipple. Yet she does not try to withdraw her other one, in fact, the pushes her breasts out a bit so I can attach the other one all the more easily. Both clamps are connected by a chain, which I now start pulling. With my other hand, I steadily increase the voltage that runs through her lower body. Anna is moaning and whimpering without pause now, her hips moving ever more rapidly. Suddenly, I give the power dial a large final turn, and sharply tug at her nipple clamps. Her eyes fly wide open, her entire body first freezes, then starts spasming.
I quickly remove the clamps, which have produced a few tiny drops of blood when they bit into Anna's soft flesh, then slowly turn down the electricity, trying to draw her orgasm out a bit. Finally, I switch the power off and remove both electrodes from her body.
I untie her and put her on the bed. While she is still not quite herself, I gently stroke and massage her. When her speech gets coherent again, I offer her some water, which she gladly drinks. "Now rest for a while, I'll be right back. I'll just fetch a little to eat, to help restore your strength." After a few minutes, I return with toast, butter and honey. "Feeding time - now open your mouth and say 'Ahh'. That's a good girl. Here you go." When Anna has finished eating, I join her in bed and we both drift off to sleep.
There are a lot of ways to wake up in the morning. A shrill alarm clock is one of them, even though that's hardly a personal favourite of mine. Another one is having your penis slowly, lovingly, licked until you become half-conscious, followed by a full-grown blow-job to get you awake the rest of the way. That one is a personal favourite! No doubt about it, a great way to start the day. Anna takes her time, so it is a while before we are done. When we are, I ask her how she would like me to return the favour. "Let's do it again. What we did yesterday. That was amazing!" "Right now? What about breakfast?" "Well, I just had mine..." the little minx replies. I can't argue with that. However, I can't argue with my growling stomach either. So breakfast it is - Anna agrees to wait for her desert. Despite my appetite, I must say that desert sounds rather good to me as well, even though my recipe does not include many nutrients. So, let's make it a quick breakfast! Eggs, 7 minutes; toast, 3 pieces each; butter; ham; some cheese (gouda and camembert, to be precise): perfect. Ten minutes later, the empty plates wander into the sink - hold that, we are in a hurry - the empty plates stay exactly where they are, while we are already back in the bedroom.
"All right, you asked for it, you'd better be ready for it. Lie down on the bed." "With pleasure." "With speed! Now!" Smack. "Ouch. I'm here, I'm here! What now?" "What do you mean, 'What now'? How about some respect? Have you no manners?" "Ohhh, my apologies... are you going to punish me now? I have been a bad girl, I know." How can I resist those hopeful, innocent eyes, blinking up at me? Did I just say 'innocent'? Never mind.
"Bad does not quite cover it. Now you might want to rephrase that question you asked earlier, or I'll have to tie you up and leave you for an hour, to contemplate your mistake. And I'm sure you don't want that any more than I do." "No, certainly not. Well, what I meant to say was 'How may your willing plaything please you? What position might find your approval? How would you like me to make myself available for your every whim?'" If there was any irony hidden in there, it must have been well hidden. Or maybe I didn't look hard enough. No matter. "Since last night you formed such a beautiful vertical 'X', I want you to form a horizontal one now. Lie on your back, arms spread above your head, legs spread wide. That's it, I knew you could do it." My bed does not have bedposts that extend over the height of the mattress, but it does have four legs, and to those legs I quickly bind her extended hands and feet. She can move a bit, but not enough to do her any good.
Closing the shades to keep the approaching day (and the accompanying sunlight) at bay, I arrange a lot of candles around the room. It looks so romantic. Even her sensuous squirming and moaning when I pour the molten wax that has collected in one of the candles over her left breast adds to that. I quickly keep up and treat her right breast the same way, holding the candle high above her body to alleviate the heat. As the wax drops down, it runs over her chest, and down her sides, leaving red (on the left) and blue (on the right) trails. Soon, a green lake appears above her navel, poured from a lesser height. More red and blue for her breasts, while I lower the candles more and more towards her skin. Her moaning increases, as does her squirming. So does, presumably, the heat. Her nipples are next. This time, blue for the left one, and red on the right! I am quite the artist, aren't I? Well, how could anyone screw up on such a beautiful canvas...
When the hot wax hits her sensitive nipples, she whimpers slightly. What more encouragement do I need?! I continue to cover her torso, her tights and upper arms in colourful stearin. I'm not sure if she's enjoying the sensation more, or I the sight. I often scrape off layers of wax to gain access to the bare skin again. Finally, I dispense with the waiting for wax to form a pool in a candle, and just drip it on her as it melts. Using six candles at the same time, it is a flow rather than a dribble. She now moans continuously, only interrupted by small cries.
At last, I stop, leaving a small pond in and around her belly button to dry, while starting to remove the rest. I need direct access for what I have in mind!
When every last bit is removed, I start rubbing her breasts and nether regions with alcohol. Anna's eyes widen - she did ask for this, but still... The medical needles come out of my cupboard and I put them one by one on her stomach, to let the anticipation build. Slowly, I slid the first one out of its plastic sheath and hold it up into the light. I lower it, run the tip gently around her right areola. A short prick, a sudden cry. And another. And another. A few drops of blood appear around the nipple. I widen my area of application. Soon, her entire right breast is covered with tiny red drops. Now, I gently insert the needle into her soft tissue in its entirety. Only the plastic handle is visible, sticking from the side of her breast. Two that I add several more all over her right breast. Now the left one, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. She is screaming now, even though not very loud yet. Another dozen, six on the right, six on the left. They form a neat circle around each breast. Time to focus on the centre: Anna's nipples are rock hard and beg me to be pierced - or is that her begging? No, no, must be the nipples.
I happily comply. Accompanied by her - now louder - screams, I run three needles through each nipple, from side to side. For the final touch, I put one needle right on top of each nipple and slowly push down. Down, down and down. Through flesh, nerves and tissue. Her breathing goes heavily, but she keeps her body steady, tries not to struggle. Small streaks of red trickle down her sides - quite a sight I might add.
Anna breathes in relieve when I get up from my current position at her side. To early! I settle down between her legs and grab another needle! Her eyes widen again, but she does not plead. She keeps quiet, watching my hands. Again, I move slowly. I place the needle tip on the outside of her labia. A sharp stab, and it's through. Judging by her reaction, the pain does not seem to be as bad as when I pierced her nipples. So I follow up with five more needles, distributing them evenly on both sides. Not knowing her limits, I decide against puncturing her inner labia or even her clitoris. I'll ask her later about it. For now, I grab my electro stimulator (if you can call the ET-312 that) and proceed to attach wires to some of the needles in her breasts. One on the side, and one in the nipple. Same on the other breast. I turn the power up, slowly but steadily, until she jerks back and starts to cry out again. This time, a add a random component to keep her occupied.
I remove the needles from her labia, bringing forth several startled yelps, and re-tie Anna's legs so that her feet are in the air above her hands - leaving her pussy fully exposed. How fully she is soon made aware by a thin multi-stranded whip that finds its way into her unprotected sex. I start with a few light strokes, but quickly pick up the pace. I'm rapidly lashing into her, while listening to her equally rapid breathing and her screams of lust. The whipping increases in severity and speed, having Anna writhing in her bonds, but never trying to close her legs! The heaving of her chest and the opening of her sex tells me that she is getting close to an orgasm! She really is my kind of girl.
I quickly throw the whip aside and lower myself between her legs. I am at least as exited as she is, and I enter her in a single thrust. No thoughts of taking it slow now, I hammer into her like a madman. I feel her orgasm, her muscles spasm around my penis, clenching me tight. I am not far behind...
All I can do is to turn off the electricity, remove the needles and wipe her clean of her blood, before I collapse beside her.
When we are both securely back down to earth, we decide to have some lunch. After that, we take a nice stroll through a nearby park. It's late spring, birds are singing, the trees are a fresh shade of green, flowers all around, you get the picture. We walk, we talk, and I'm boring you. Click [Fast Forward]. Sssssrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Click [Resume]. We head back to my house.
It is late in the afternoon when we get back, and we are both aroused again when we step into my kitchen. The arousal comes as much from our talk as simply from each other's close company. I get her undressed right there and place her with her back on the kitchen table. We fool around a little, exploring each other's lips and bodies once more.
"Stay here, don't run away, I'll be right back", I tell her and hurry off to get a few things. I return from an angle where she cannot see what I'm carrying from her current position. She does notice the clothespins being attached to her flesh, though! One on her left breast, one on her right. Left, right. Left right. On the sides, on the top, on the underside. Left, right. Left, right. Now on her stomach, around her navel. I even manage to clip one into the navel. Now her armpits. Her upper arms. Her sides. Now the tip of her breasts: One to the left of each nipple, one to the right. And one directly on top! She is squirming and moaning again, but even though she is not tied down, Anna does not move much. The final touch are four clothespins on each side of her outer labia. I ask her to left her legs above her head, but to keep them spread, then I use tape on the clothespins on her labia to spread open more than just her legs. Anna is now very much open. I put a little lubricant on two of my right-hand fingers and start to slowly finger her. Not that the lube would have been necessary - at least not yet. The two fingers move deeply into her, soon joined by a third. Her moaning becomes less even now - more so, when the fourth finger disapears in her body. I use my other hand to tease her clit. A little more lube, and my right thumb is beside its peers. I now have five digits up to the knuckles inside her pussy! The sight is incredible, and - judging from her reaction - so is the feel. I begin increasing the pressure, slowly but steadily. More lube around her entrance, and more clitoris stimulation with my other hand help the process along. Soon, my knuckles vanish from sight. I keep pushing until only my wrist is still visible! When I form a fist inside of her and try moving it around, rotating it at first, than pushing inward and pulling outward, her hips start to buck. Her eyes are dilated, and I have trouble keeping her on top of the table! I guess she is enjoying herself. While I manoeuvre my fist around inside her, I continue to stimulate her clit, giving the occasional flick to one of the clothespins on her nipples.
As soon as she starts cumming, I begin to move my fist rapidly in and out of her, repeatedly moving it all the way out so that only my finger tips remain out of sight, then pushing it back inside in one swift motion. Anna is thrashing around like crazy, orgasming the entire time.
Finally, she comes down again. I remove my hand, as well as most of the clothespins - the ones on her nipples and areola stay, even though I lift them for a short time to allow the blood to flow back. When I put them back, they hurt worse than before - which puts her just in the right state of mind for what comes next. "Do not move!"
Briefly, I hold the cane in front of her eyes, so that she can see what awaits her. The first hit across her bottom is accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. For the second, she keeps quite, as well as for the third. The fourth elicits a short moan. I bring the cane down on her ass and across her thighs over and over again, until, finally, she cries out. I quickly position myself between her legs and thrust once or twice into her vagina. Thus lubricated, I withdraw and enter her lower hole. At the same time, I adjust my aim with the crop to the underside of her breasts. She assists me by pulling on her nipple-enclosing clothespins, stretching her breasts upwards and making them more available to me.
Soon, I find my rhythm and start thrusting into her in earnest. My free hand that does not handle the cane is rubbing her - now very sensitive - clit once more. After several minutes of frantic movement on both our parts, I shoot my load deep into her bowels. Not long after, she shudders in another intense orgasm.
I gently take off the remaining clothespins and take Anna into my arms. Time for bed!
Author's note: Whew, finished at last. That was my first story, so any comments you might have are appreciated. I know that the 'plot' (such as it is) isn't exactly up to speed, but this was more of a test of style for me. I realised that I need more practice in 'fleshing out' the sex scenes, I'm still not able to convey the complete picture that I have in mind. I also need to spend more time with the "leading-up" scenes: There's no need to get the entire undressing and tie-up done in a half-sentence ;-) Same goes for the "afterwards" scenes.
I also noticed that it's hard to maintain a certain level of language when writing a somewhat graphic story. I guess I'll abandon that attempt and start using the appropriate descriptive terms.
© 2006 DarkMatter
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