Chapter 35
The sound of moaning in my ears.
Sweat covering my whole body.
The telltale slap of flesh against flesh loud throughout the room.
A wet cunt gripping my cock and a hard dick shoving into my ass.
My definition of heaven. Nothing beats coming, wedged between the two people I love the most in this world.
Jazz laughs softly in my ear as he grips my shoulder, slumping against me while I do my best not to collapse on Bella. Her eyes flutter open slowly when she feels me pull out, and her lips draw back from where her teeth dig into the gag in what I presume is a grin. Leaning down I place a peck on her nose, then laugh when Jazz slaps my ass playfully.
"I think I'll leave you two love birds alone now, I really need a shower!" he exclaims, and before I can say anything in reply, he's gone.
"Smartass," I grumble, then can't hold back a chuckle as I turn to Bella. "He only does that so I'm stuck with cleaning up! Don't you think?"
She raises one sweaty eyebrow but doesn't say anything, letting her silence speak for itself. Considering she couldn't have said much in the first place with the gag still firmly lodged between her teeth, too large to make even basic vocalization possible, that's probably a good move.
I shake my head and call him a lazy dog under my breath, while I set to the task of divesting Bella of the rope that has her tied into a neat, helpless human parcel. When I finally remove the gag from her mouth, she works her jaw slowly and opens and closes her mouth a few times before she makes a face, not quite able to shake off the discomfort yet.
"It's not like you'd accept any help," she points out, stretching her muscles with a few moves that instantly make me want to bend her over the bench a third time. "Last week you spent half an hour complaining about how the spreader bars belonged in the other cabinet, how he had folded the rope the wrong way, forgotten to bring one of the rope coils back for washing, and put one of the canes in with the crops, and that's not even a comprehensive list. There's a reason we wisely leave you to do your own cleanup, then suffer in silence when you mope about having to do it all by yourself."
I snort, but can't deny she has a point. Still I round on her, then grab her head and kiss her roughly, feeling her body mold itself against my own.
Moving back, I keep holding her like that, staring deep into her eyes.
"Just when do you ever suffer anything in silence?"
As intended, that makes her crack up, and she keeps grinning at me even when I let go of her again.
"Like you don't get off on my grunts and moans and screams!"
"Of course I do. That's the whole point of making you grunt and moan and scream."
"And here I thought you were just indulging my needs," she huffs good-naturedly, then watches as I continue to fold the ropes – the right way, of course.
"You know, I've been thinking," she starts, then waits until I look at her before she goes on. "Jazz will be away for a day next week. Maybe we could plan something fun to do while he's gone?"
"Define fun?" I ask, more to humor her than anything, as I know I probably won't get to see her at all between Wednesday and Saturday because of my forty-hour shift.
"Well, you know, the kind that leaves me banged up and unable to walk?"
I flash her a grin, because how could I not? But at the same time I feel a wave of regret already seeping through my gut.
"I'd love to, but -"
"Before you go raining on my parade, I should probably tell you that I've been on a sneaky mission for the past week, tracking down your colleagues and sweet-talking them into trading shifts with you. I didn't even have to lie much when I told them about our upcoming anniversary, and how I might have planned something, and how it's only possible to do it between Thursday and Sunday next week."
I don't know why I'm even surprised to hear that. Ever since she stopped being the shy, polite little trophy wife that Mike wanted her to be, she has turned into a persuasive force of nature that no one is able to withstand, or say 'no' to. I still offer her a stern look, but she only grins back.
"White lies, really," she adds. "It's April, just three weeks until we do actually have that anniversary, you know? And while I think we should celebrate that with Jazz, I'd really love to have some alone time with you again, too."
Getting the cleaning utensils from the corner next to the door, I set to wiping down the bench while I think of something to say in return. Bella seems to takes my momentary silence as chagrin, because she crosses her arms over her rope-marked breasts, looking just a tad bit defiant.
"It's not like I wouldn't speak up if I felt the need to have you to myself more often. I was talking mostly playroom time. Watching you both have your first real lover's spat last week was just too adorable to keep you apart for too long at a time!"
Gnashing my teeth, I glare at her before I kneel down to clean sweat, snot, spit and other bodily fluids off the floor.
"If you keep making fun of me like that, I will have to tan your ass one way or another. And, as I keep repeating, he was behaving like an ass. Should I have kept silent?"
"I'm not making fun of you alone, Edward, but of both of you! And speaking of my ass, you know that I love including Jazz in and out of the playroom, but even you have to admit that you tone it down a lot for his sake. Not complaining, and I'm happy that it's been weeks since you last weirded him out enough to make him consider walking out, but I'm kind of starting to miss how things were between us before we were both getting it up the ass all the time."
Finally done, I straighten, then walk over to her and kiss her softly.
"So you've miraculously cleared our schedule for the time that Jazz isn't here. Knowing you, you must have more plans for what we should be up to then."
I don't even ask her if I should have initiated a few more intense sessions with just the two of us, because I know that if she had felt the need for it before, she would have asked for it.
The fact that she's biting her lip before she answers is already making me curious, and her following suggestion even more.
"I kind of thought that it might be interesting for once to not stop playing when we leave the playroom? Like a continuous, day-long session?"
"I thought you didn't want to do anything even remotely 24/7-ish?"
"I didn't until now," she replies, then looks down at my chest while her fingers dance over my abs. "And I know that you haven't been too fond of the idea in the past, but I think the way things are going between us, we might have reached a point where we know each other well enough that we can anticipate each other's reactions? And somehow I get the feeling that having me at your mercy for twenty-four hours, completely devout and set to fulfill your every wish, might be something you'd like."
I can't help returning her coy smile with a sinister one.
"You might just be right about that."
Either my voice or my words – or maybe both – make her shiver for a moment, turning that coy smile into a wide, hungry grin.
"Thought so. You know that I love it when you're all playful with me and Jazz both, but the thought of having you go all mean, sadistic, relentless bastard on me just makes me all kinds of crazy."
"And what exactly do you have in mind? Or is this as far as your planning goes, and the rest is up to me?"
"Actually, yeah, the rest is up to you, but I might have a few suggestions that I hope will inspire you."
"Like?"
"Well, the usual," she starts, then takes a deep breath in what I know is her way of making herself go on, even though whatever she wants to say clearly takes some strength to admit. "I'd also like to point out that since Jazz moved in we haven't done any fisting at all, which is very, very sad. I also know that you've been eyeing that single tail whip over there a lot, but you've never asked me if I wanted to try it. And because this is a special occasion, I think I'd love it if you left a few marks on me. Souvenirs, kind of.
Nothing permanent, but enough that they'll take a few days to fade. I mean, it will be kind of inevitable anyway if you hit me as hard and as often as I want you to, so might as well go all the way with it, right?"
Instead of answering verbally right away, I kiss her, deeply and hungrily, making her both moan and laugh at the same time.
"I'd love to. Anything else?"
"Nope, just be your charming self and give me hell."
Chuckling darkly, I reach around to pinch her ass, making her jump and yelp delightfully.
"I think I can do that."
Together we leave the playroom, and my mind is already filling with devious ideas while Bella takes care of my resulting hard-on in the shower.
As such things go, the next few days fly by so fast that I'm hard pressed to plan and organize everything I need to enact my plan in its glorious entirety. It takes Jazz about five minutes to catch on to the fact that I'm up to something, but I don't tell him anything beyond the basic setup – that while he's in California, trying to do a week's work in just a day, I'm going to do my very best to turn Bella's life upside down. He doesn't even bat an eyelash although he must realize that we're going to do a lot of things he's probably still uneasy about but we established a while ago that as far as things in the playroom are concerned, a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy works for us. I even get the sense that he's glad we're going to use the opportunity presenting itself, which makes me wonder if he feels like we've been holding back for his sake alone. Which, while not entirely wrong, is a long shot from the truth, but there's only so much mindf*cking I can do with Bella when we're limited to an hour or two in the playroom. I think that if our day goes even remotely as I plan, I might have to turn that into a monthly thing, as none of us seem even remotely put off by the idea.
When I leave the hospital late on Wednesday evening I'm already excited, doing my best to ignore the gentle abuse of my co-worker's teasing. For some reason, everyone seems incredibly amused that my girlfriend has such a tight grip on my reins that she even bends all of them and the usually rigid shift rotations to her will. I'm more than happy to leave them blissfully ignorant of what will be going on in our home, and outside of it, during the days to come, but it's impossible for me to hide my excitement.
And I'm not the only one, I realize when I come home and find Bella restless and jumpy, unable to sit still even while she watches Jazz pack his overnight bag. She greets me with a bright grin and some very emphatic kissing, which would have turned into more than just a make-out session if Jazz hadn't thrown us out of the bedroom, so as not to destroy his previous efforts at ironing his shirts and pants. I'm still tempted to f*ck her right outside on the landing of the stairs, but she drags me downstairs to help her cook instead.
Spending the evening in front of the TV watching a movie is an endeavor we give up ten minutes after starting the DVD, as Bella and I are both horny as hell. Jazz doesn't seem up to the task of keeping us apart or tearing each other's clothes off, nor does he seem even remotely inclined to try. He also doesn't protest when Bella and I unanimously concentrate most of our attention on him – we have the next day all to ourselves, we might as well make Jazz feel like he's going to be missed while he's away, whether that's the case or not.
I'm already too locked in a dominant mindset to let him set the pace, and as usual, Bella is nearly as driven as I am before she's ready to give up control. We end up with both of us pretty much doing whatever we want to with Jazz. Afterwards, all of us are dead tired and utterly satisfied by the time we finally fall asleep, with Bella curled up between us as usual.
I still rouse a few times that night with a hard-on, but keep myself from waking Bella to take care of it, seeing as she'll be doing that and nothing else soon. By the time Jazz has to get up I feel ready to jump both of them anyway, but instead I follow Jazz into the shower and jerk him off while he makes fun of my perpetual horniness. Sadly, we don't have enough time that I can bend him over the sink and f*ck that smirk right out of him, but one can't have everything, right?
Before I drive Jazz to the airport, I crawl back onto the bed until I'm hunched over Bella who is still dozing groggily, nudging my nose against the side of her neck until I hear her breath hitch. It's a clear sign she's awake, but still pretending to be asleep. Grinning deviously I kiss her shoulder, then whisper in her ear; I can't see her face as it's still buried in the pillow, but I don't really need to.
"The moment I'm back from dropping Jazz off, the game's on. I expect to find you kneeling in the living room, naked and ready for me. And, by default, for the next day you're not allowed to look at me or speak to me unless I give you permission first or ask you something. Any hint of defiance on your side will be punished swiftly and harshly, so you better be on your best behavior as my obedient slave."
Even though she still keeps up the sleeping act I feel her body tense underneath me, and I chuckle softly when she pushes her ass back against me so that it is rubbing my crotch through the thick duvet.
"There's a list in the night stand with a few more things I've come up with that I would love to include. Check off what you're okay with, strike through what you're not. If you forget or are too lazy for that, I will take that as your silent submission and do it all anyway. Consider this your last choice until Friday morning whether you look at it or not."
I kiss her shoulder lovingly before I crawl back off the bed, getting a low, contented hum in return from her. I don't really expect her to balk at any of my ideas, but three of them are still on her list of soft limits although I think she's outgrown her hesitancy to try. I'm curious whether she will protest –
or leave the list untouched and herself none the wiser about what I have in store for her. As her safewords are still active whatever we do, I'm not concerned about pushing her that one step too far – she'll let me know if I need to back off, or if she's ready to take the plunge.
Kissing Jazz good-bye at the airport leaves me strangely melancholic, even though I know that he will be back again in thirty hours. Yet the thought of what is to come soon has me in a good mood. On the way home I pick up fresh bagels and muffins for breakfast – or whenever we'll actually get to eat them.
As expected, I find Bella kneeling on the living room floor upon my return, but she's not as relaxed as I'm used to from the playroom. Her usual air of serenity is replaced by a certain jumpiness, and I see her twitch at least twice in the minute I take to just stand by the door and watch her. She doesn't turn her head in my direction, doesn't even look up from the spot on the floor in front of her spread knees. She's following my directions to the letter – but I can't say that I feel the satisfaction or rush I expected to, and she doesn't appear to, either.
Just to screw with her before we get to any actual f*cking, I take my time undressing, then flop down on the couch in only my underwear and t-shirt to watch the morning news. Being ignored like that must be driving her crazy, and I deliberately build on that when I idly push my hand into my boxers and start to stroke my cock. I'm hard in no time, and the knowledge that she must be watching me stealthily is only adding to it, but I still don't feel the thrill I've been anticipating for days.
Getting tired of my own games quickly, I lose my patience and walk over to where she is still kneeling, head down and hands behind her back, but not even when she sucks me off at my command does my irritation fade. While she tries hard to do her best – which her being her, on her knees and all that, isn't that hard to accomplish – it just isn't what I yearn for, which I have to admit to myself when I come down the back of her throat.
Because I'm pensive, and quite frankly a little lost in my own thoughts, I keep my cock there a little too long until she starts to gag, and it's only then that I realize what is missing. As close as this is to what most people probably think of as the perfect scene, it just isn't us. And if I've learned anything since hooking up with Bella, it is the fact that just because everyone sees something as good doesn't mean it's right for us.
A week of planning is suddenly turned upside-down. I decide to take a little time to re-evaluate, so I leave Bella kneeling where she is and go upstairs.
In passing I check the nightstand, and not surprisingly find my notes untouched. The fact that she wants to be unaware just plays into my hands, and I head back into the playroom to make sure I have everything in stock for my new, impromptu plan.
I can't really change all that much about what I've organized for tonight, but until then I can do with her whatever I want – and the fact that I don't have to adhere to my own script is weirdly liberating. Before I go downstairs again I pause, still a little uncertain about whether she'll appreciate the change or not. I remember all too clearly that it was her express wish to submit to me completely today, but she can still do that later – and it's not like I will leave her much choice but to bow to my will, one way or another, before we go out to dinner.
My cock is particularly pleased by the new ideas forming in my head, but I do my best to will away my hard-on as I can't use it right now. Donning a faded pair of jeans I quickly rifle through Bella's closet, coming up with some old cotton panties and bra I haven't seen on her except for when we've neglected to do the laundry, and an old sundress she has set aside to donate to Goodwill.
The fact that she doesn't even frown when I drop the clothes in front of her a minute later is a testament to her commitment to be the perfect sub today, but it does weird me out a little more about my initial plan. This just isn't us. As much as I want to be the one to make her scream at the top of her lungs, this meekness is simply unnerving.
"Dress."
She gets up quickly and puts on the clothes without question, with not a single look in my direction, then sinks back onto her knees, waiting. I watch her for a full minute, itching to jump into action and trying to find a reason to scold her, but of course there is none. She's the image of total submissiveness today, and the more I watch her, the more it grates on my nerves.
Being the first to break, I walk around her and crouch down at her back, then grab her breast and dig my fingers into it while I push my other hand into her panties. She's wet already but not as drenched as I want her to be before we start, confirming that just like me, this isn't really pushing all her buttons the way it would if this really was our perfect scene. Leaning in I lick along the side of her neck, then gently bite into her ear lobe before I whisper to her, grinning at the light shiver I feel running through her body.
"You are such a good girl today, but that's utterly boring. I think I need a change of plan."
I'm strangely happy to get my first real reaction out of her when I hear her breath hitch and feel her spine straighten, but her lack of a verbal acknowledgement prompts me to bite down on her shoulder.
"You'll have time enough to be my meek little slave later when you're too exhausted to put up a fight anymore, but not right now."
Even without being able to see her face I can tell that she's conflicted – she knows I'm not above making her mess up deliberately so I have a good enough reason to punish her, but my words must sound as tantalizing to her as they are to me – now it's up to her to decide how to act. While she takes her time with that I switch my grip on her tit, and when I pinch her nipple hard, her cry seems to drag her out of her indecision.
"I thought you wanted me all docile."
No appellation, no nothing. If this were a trap I'd have ample opportunity to make her life hell, but as it is, I don't really give a shit right now.
"And now I don't. Is that a problem?"
She shakes her head, then whimpers when I increase the pressure of my fingers on her nipple.
"How do you want me to react in turn?"
"Like your usual charming self. As defiant as you think you can take the ramifications."
At that she pauses for a moment.
"Any reason I'm wearing these clothes? Other than so you can tear them off me again, I mean. And, as you didn't bring me any shoes, I'm guessing we're going to stay inside?"
"I was thinking about the old hostage / kidnapper scenario. I'm too lazy to carry you back through the building where people might see us and call the police, but assume yourself snatched up and dragged back to my lair."
Bella gives a contented hum that makes me smirk, so I add, "If you want to, you can struggle for real, but if you don't hold back, I won't, either."
I expect her to answer me, but she catches me completely by surprise when she suddenly rams her elbow into my stomach, then pushes up onto her feet. She's already scrambling away from me while my mind is still reeling from the slight but real pain from her jab, and the fact that I'm no longer groping her. Because she has been kneeling for so long it still takes her too much time to get to her feet and put some distance between us. I will freely admit that the fact that she even got a blind swing at me brings out my vengeful side. Instead of trying to catch her, I hurl myself at her with my full weight, pinning her under me as the impact drives the air out of her lungs with a loud 'oof'.
"Do you really think you can get away from me?" I snarl in her ear, but again she's too quick for me to keep her down. A little bit of struggling and we end up with her half on her back, her legs trapped by mine, glaring up at me while she punches my biceps hard.
"Let me go!"
"Not a chance," I laugh, then grunt when her next punch hits my ribs again.
I finally manage to restrain her arms by grabbing her wrists, but because I have to stretch to do so, she manages to draw one of her knees to her chest and in between us. I'm again surprised by her strength and how much of a real fight she puts up, but then I don't really have anything to compare this to. The only other time she's ever had a chance to struggle was when we were in the woods with Jazz, and I still vividly remember how reluctant she had been to do anything then. Not so today, it seems, for when I finally have her flat on her back again she starts to scream for help, forcing me to let go of her wrists so I can clap my hand over her mouth and shut her up.
More struggling ensues and I'm sure I'll bear a few bruises from that tomorrow. Eventually I manage to securely press her against me, her arms immobilized between us, while my hand still covers her mouth. At least she doesn't try to bite, but dragging her upstairs still proves to be a hard, slow process.
When I'm finally inside the playroom, I'm confronted with another problem I haven't anticipated – with her struggling to break free I can hardly tie her up with rope, or use the padded leather cuffs. I barely manage to fling the door to the supplies cabinet open without letting her escape, but once I scan all of the items inside, an idea starts to form in my mind. I have to actively push her down with my whole weight to be able to slap the handcuffs onto her wrists, but if anything, she fights harder once her arms are secured behind her back.
I let her tear herself free then so that I can root through my stuff to hunt down the only thing I can come up with that might work. In the meantime, she flees across the room, panting heavily when she finally stops and leans against the mirrored wall in the opposite corner of the room.
I stuff a coil of rope into the waistband of my jeans and grab a bunch of black cable binders in my hand before I finally go after her, doing my best to leer at her. She seems torn between open defiance and badly hidden but superbly played fear.
"Why are you doing this?" she shouts, trying to make a dive to my right but only ending up slammed against the wall with her back towards me. I let a dark chuckle be my only answer as I swap the cuffs for a cable binder after some more struggling. Her legs are far harder to restrain, but eventually I manage to lock them together at her ankles and below and above the knees, the black plastic biting into her flushed skin. She tries to break free one last time and I have to lunge forward to catch her properly, cursing under my breath. I should have planned to do something like this together with Jazz, both for practicality and safety reasons, but as I'm on my own, I'll have to make do somehow.
With her now facing me, I grab her chin and dig my fingers into her cheeks until she lets out a small sound, my eyes boring into hers. I love the defiance in her look, at least until she manages to spit at me and actually aims true. My mind wants to shut down my motions when I let go of her so I can slap her – not hard, but enough to sting – yet the fire in her eyes doesn't dim in the least, and I know I can continue like with this.
Holding her chin again, I lean into her until I have her pinned with my lower body while I force her to keep looking at me.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll stop fighting now."
She doesn't answer, only tries to jerk her head out of my grasp but when I don't let go she leaves it at a mute glare. Bella tries to fight again when I step away and grab her upper arm, but she is mostly helpless and has to suffer me picking her up and carrying her through the room. She thankfully doesn't struggle when I leave her leaning against my body and stretch up and grab the rope hanging from the ceiling, but I pause right there. I don't want to strain her shoulders much yet, so instead of tying her elbows together and fixing the rope to that, I turn her around and start to fondle her breasts.
Bella does her best to appear put off by my groping, even more so when I manage to tear the front of the dress apart so I can drag her bra down and completely expose her tits. Her angry whimpers when I roll her nipples between my fingers make my cock hard again, as does her body wriggling against my own, but I don't waste much time with groping her.
Her struggling ceases a bit when I get the rope out of my waistband and start to wind it around the base of her breast double-stranded, but she nearly falls down when I have to leave her for a moment to get yet more rope to do the same with her other tit. I love how the rope does a great job at making her tits stick out obscenely, the effect only increased when I tie the two ropes together and then to the one suspended from the ceiling so that I can force her onto the balls of her feet with a simple pull on the suspension rope.
Tying that off at the winch on the wall, I watch her try to keep her balance, but with three cable binders around her legs that's no small feat. The pain resulting from the pressure on her breasts must be substantial when she finally loses her footing for a few moments, but I let her tire herself out a bit before I step in to steady her. Her gaze is a little wild when she looks at me again, but it's nothing she can't bear. I leave it at a somewhat evil smirk before I grab her already ruined dress and continue to tear it apart until the front is completely open, the tatters sliding down to her elbows. Her panties are much harder to destroy, and I give up on her bra, cutting it off with the safety scissors I always keep handy for emergency reasons. On second thought I do the same with the remainder of the dress, too.
She doesn't look particularly happy when I return to her after putting the scissors away. For a moment I even think that she has already given up, but when she spits in my general direction I know that the game's still on.
Smirking at her, I close the distance between us. Then I slap her left cheek a little harder than before, leaving a quickly fading handprint there while her motion to avoid the hit unbalances her anew. This time I steady her by grabbing her nipples and twisting them, making her yowl with pain until she moves closer to me to alleviate the pressure.
"Still so defiant? I think I have to teach you a lesson," I taunt, then let go of her to walk over to the impact toy rack. New excitement zips through me as my fingertips brush over the leather of the single tail whip that I've had for two years now, but haven't yet gotten a chance to use on Bella. The leather warms quickly under my hand when I grab it and let it unfurl in all its beauty.
Bella looks fittingly uneasy when I return to her and caress her thigh idly with the whip. I'm burning to let her feel its sting finally, but instead of going for that right away I push the whip over her head from behind and lay it across the ropes binding her tits.
"That better not fall down or I'll make sure you'll regret it."
She doesn't reply but I can still see her tense with the effort to keep still and brace herself for what's to come. When I slap her ass hard she yelps and tries to take a step forward, nearly losing her precarious balance. Another slap and the same happens again. I take pity on her then, putting one hand on her stomach while I continue to bring the other down hard on her ass for a quick warm-up. She squirms and grunts, trying to minimize the contact from both of my hands which of course is impossible, and only ends up making me use more force.
Because I'm not that much of a heartless bastard, I ease up on her for a moment so I can slide my hand lower, from her stomach to her cunt. Now she's wet for real, and although her ties make it impossible for me to reach down far enough to slide a finger into her, I can still rub her *. She relaxes briefly and my next slap on her ass finds her unprepared, making her cry out beautifully.
I keep spanking her a little longer while I tease her * with my finger, then step back and retrieve the whip. Sadly her fidgeting hasn't dislodged it but I don't really care that much – I don't need an excuse to use it on her after all.
Taking a stance in front of her, I let my eyes roam over her body before I raise the whip. I know that she isn't just pretending to be scared of it – and rightly so. Unlike most of our toys, whips can actually do real damage with any accidental hit that misses its target. It has taken me years to perfect throwing whips. Beth has been a good teacher, making sure I knew what I was doing before she ever let me near anyone with it. I've only had a week to pick up my practice again so I won't over do it, for both Bella's sake and my own, but I intend to give her a wild ride.
Some people like to crack their whips before they actually make skin contact, but I refrain from that, simply because I can't stand the sound myself. Instead I throw it with minimal velocity, just fast enough to hit my target – the side of Bella's thigh – square on. She makes a sound somewhere between a grunt and a cry, but it's clearly more pent-up tension needing release than pain. If there even is a resulting thin red line it disappears before I can see it, and when the next few hits don't hurt her further, Bella slowly relaxes.
I let my aim wander to the front of her thighs, then up to the soft, lower part of her belly below her abdominal muscles, then walk around her so I can reach her ass, the back of her thighs and her calves, always keeping a steady rhythm and the resulting pain to a minimum. She still doesn't relax altogether, and a few times I have to stop because she loses her balance.
Eventually I grow tired of that.
Substituting padded cuffs for the wrist cable binders is easy now that she can't really fight. After I've raised her arms away from her back and clipped them to the connective rope above where the ropes from the breast bondage lead, I cut through the cable ties on her ankles and below her knees. I leave the last one so that she can't kick at me, though, and once she stops fidgeting I pick the whip back up again.
One of the crucial rules when using whips is to stay away from any joints and most importantly the face, but because it's her first time altogether I take it easy on her in general. Her ass and thighs bear the brunt of it over the next minutes as I slowly increase the speed of my throws, soon leaving marks that don't fade faster than they appear. The will to fight leaves her gradually as her mind slips into the sensation, soon craving the pain as much as I know she dreads it. The low moans I pick up from her are a sure indication of that.
Things get a little more interesting when I switch to the front of her body, and this time include her bound breasts. Her breath catches harshly at the first contact while she instinctively turns her head to the side, farther away from anywhere the whip might go. Each time I hit her tits she jerks in her bonds, a few whimpers escaping her now and then.
When I take a break her shoulders sag with relief, but only until I walk up to her and grab her bound tits roughly, pushing my fingers into the constricted flesh. Bella grits her teeth and tries not to make a sound, but soon rewards me with a strangled cry when I don't ease up. Keeping my right hand there I let go of her other breast, leaning forward so I can take her nipple between my teeth. She hisses sharply when I bite down hard, then moans as I continue sucking while I tease the barbell of her piercing with my tongue. Meanwhile, I stroke her side with my free hand, then push two fingers between her still tightly bound legs so I can stroke her *. Before long she is having problems trying not to writhe under the attention, and I know it's time to step up the pace.
The glazed over look of lust quickly leaves her face when the whip kisses her stomach again, faster and more painful than before. I love how both surprise and the harsh sting of the toy make her cry out, her voice that high kind of hoarse I've heard so little of over the last months. And as I go on, sometimes straying to her thighs but mostly aiming at her tits and stomach, her cries become louder and more frequent. Her squirming soon forces me to abandon her front lest I hurt her accidentally. After all, her upper back and ass are much more forgiving when it comes to not quite perfect aim.
"Please stop! I can't take it anymore, please!"
I'm surprised to hear her begging like that, but it fits the tone we've set.
Pausing, I then add two final, more painful throws before I walk around to her front, staring at her bound tits before I meet her eyes.
"Did you say something? All that lusty moaning from you is kind of distracting."
She frowns for a second but quickly returns to pleading with me when I slap her tits hard.
"Please! I'll do whatever you want of me, just please stop!"
Stepping close to her until her tits rub against my t-shirt, I reach around her and pinch her ass, then push my finger down her crack until it reaches her anus. She makes a face but keeps her eyes on mine, wide and seemingly afraid.
"And what keeps me from simply taking what I want?" I ask her, pushing the first digit of my middle finger inside her sphincter. She seems at a loss for words, even when I stop and step away from her. When she still doesn't answer I slap her face again, loving the quick flash of anger that appears in her eyes before she tries to appear meek again.
"Nothing, but things will be easier if I comply, right?"
"I can just force you to comply. I don't need your cooperation, slut."
I slap her again, hard enough this time to make her wince, and she suddenly drops the act. Even though she can barely move she somehow manages to grip the ropes her cuffs are fixed to with her fingers, allowing her to brace herself a bit before she starts to yank on her bonds. She tries to wriggle out of them, and when that doesn't help, kicks out towards me somehow, all the while shouting at me.
"You f*cking bastard, I demand that you let me go!"
Stepping out of her reach I watch her with a wry grin, inwardly wincing at how much the ropes must be digging into her tits, but she has had enough experience with bondage to have expected that before she started throwing that fit.
"Not before I'm done with you," I tell her succinctly, when her own thrashing has worn her out enough to stop for a moment. I love how angry my words make her.
"Let me go!"
I simply shake my head, then pick up the whip again.
"Seems like I need to teach you some manners," I grunt, then crack the whip after all in the general direction of her back. It falls short by several inches but the sound scares her into momentary submission again.
Her back is soon covered in red lines, and when she stops fidgeting every so often I turn my aim lower, to her ass. Every whip lash makes her howl now, and a few of the marks turn into slightly raised welts, bound to stay for a few hours at least. A few more obscenities leave her but then she falls oddly silent, my signal to stop.
Leaving the whip by the wall I walk back to face her, the tear stains on her cheeks confirming my guess that I've pretty much maxed her out. There's still defiance in her gaze but she seems to want to shy away from me when I close the distance between us.
Reaching for her throat, I keep her from turning her head away, the light pressure of my fingers barely enough to choke her, but either way making a point. She doesn't react when I press my lips to hers, but a quick, hard pinch of her ass makes her cry out and eliminates that problem. I shut her up by shoving my tongue into her mouth. Either she's tired of pretending not to care, or too far gone to keep on playing, as she kisses me back eagerly. A few whimpers escape her when I continue to knead her butt, then cut off when I increase the pressure of my fingers on her throat.
When I pull back she lets out a strained panting sound, so I let go of her, and instead stroke her cheek softly for a moment, a tender gesture that I turn on her when I grab her hair and wrench her head back until she is forced to look into my face again.
"You will not defy me. You will do as I say. Understand?"
Stubborn as always, she keeps her lips pressed together until I slap her again, only then offering a whimpered, "Yes!"
I reach up and start undoing the knots that hold all of the ties together.
Bella sighs with relief when the strain on her breasts lessens once there's some slack in the ropes, but grits her teeth until I'm done unwinding the ropes completely. The marks the rope has left on her tits stand out even against her flushed skin and I'm quite happy to maul her tits while they are still sensitive from being bound for so long. She suffers it mostly in silence, not fighting me, and lets me lead her towards the bench at the back of the room, once I've cut through the cable binder holding her legs together.
I push her down on her back so that her ass hangs slightly over the edge of the padded bench, then tell her to stay there with her knees drawn up to her chest. She complies and I turn around to fetch the needed supplies, watching her from the corner of my eye gingerly rub her tits once my back is towards her.
Returning with padded cuffs for her ankles and enough rope to immobilize her, I set to the task of doing just that. She still doesn't protest although she's not as compliant as I'm used to. This forces me to push and pull her into position rather than to just fix the wrist cuffs to the head end of the bench directly, followed by the ankle ones with barely enough connective rope to leave her with a minimum of movement in her legs.
I love how open and vulnerable she is for me now, leaving me so many possibilities to use and abuse her while she can't even move her head properly with her arms right and left of it. She shivers slightly when I skim my fingers over a stray welt left on her thigh, then opens her mouth as if to protest.
"I don't think so," I inform her, then turn around to fetch the remnants of her panties. Bella lets out a grunt of protest when I force the torn cotton between her teeth to gag her. Turning my attention back to her thighs, I stroke the mostly unmarred expanse of flesh before I return to the supplies cabinet.
Bella tries to get a look at what I bring back, but she doesn't react when she sees the bottle of lube and inflatable butt plug. Slickening the plug quickly, I then work it into her, her ass not needing much preparation to accommodate the toy in its native state. A few pumps expand the plug and draw a low moan from her and I keep going until she winces briefly. Gently pulling on the base of the plug shows me that she won't be able to just push it out anymore. I leave her one last time to get the cane we most often use in the playroom.
Used to it as she is, she doesn't look too concerned when she sees me return with it, but that quickly changes after the first few strokes that come down hard on her spread thighs. The whipping and the strain on her legs from the previous position she was in have left her muscles tired and somewhat tender, something I abuse now mercilessly. She has also asked me for marks, and I'm only happy to oblige – whether she wants it now or not.
The makeshift gag does little to muffle her cries. After a little while she doesn't even seem to hold back anymore, sounds of pain and pleasure intermingling freely, depending on where I hit her rather than how hard, it seems. I only pause from time to time to add a few more pumps to the plug.
She's squirming around as much as the position allows her, and before long my jeans are definitely too tight for my own comfort. It feels good to ditch them together with the t-shirt, both sweat-soaked already from all the exertion. Bella uses the break to relax again, her eyes closed, so she misses the tray of lit candles that I bring back to her side – and once they are on the floor she can't see them because of her position.
I keep on caning her thighs and ass for a while longer, both to keep her agitated and to give the candles time to melt enough wax to make things interesting. A couple of minutes later I put the cane on the floor next to the bench and grab a tall, while pillar candle. Without much ado, I upend the entire pool of wax over Bella's left thigh, letting it run from below her knee to inches away from her p-ssy.
The wail she lets out is almost painful in my ears, even muffled as it is, and the gag does little to silence her heavy panting once she stops. Her eyes are huge as she stares at me, but it's obvious that her reaction is more due to surprise than pain. I chuckle and pick up another candle, doing the same to her other thigh, this time only getting rewarded with a low grunt. We've played with wax before but usually in smaller amounts, with lots of teasing and little actual spilled wax – not so this time as she soon finds out. I get two blue candles next and upend one over each of her tits, making her arch her back in discomfort.
Exchanging the candles for the cane again, I set to the wonderful task of peeling the cooled wax off her thighs and tits with the help of the flexible rattan and maybe a little more force than necessary. More moaning and grunting ensues, and she rewards me with another scream when I add another round of wax – this time directly onto her swollen, wet p-ssy. The cane won't do there so I use the flat of my hand, slapping her p-ssy long after the last bits of green wax are gone, leaving only glistening, red flesh.
A check on the plug reveals that it has deflated considerably from her bearing down on it so hard, something I have to remedy fast. Once the plug is back to its largest circumference I grab the base and start to move it inside of her, even though there's little give at first. Eventually it deflates a little more while her muscles gradually relax. When a light pull allows the thickest part to pop out of her sphincter, I'm pleasantly surprised by how much she can take.
Crouching down between her legs I get a better grip on the plug's base, then ease it into her before I pull it back out. She slowly relaxes further as I keep going, even when I increase the diameter of the plug again with a few pumps. A loud moan leaves her when I lick languidly over her *, then start tonguing it in turn with f*cking her ass with the plug.
Before long I have her writhing underneath me again, this time not from pain, although I'm sure that the dark lines the whip and cane have left on her ass and thighs must still hurt. I can tell that she's close to coming soon, but I don't stop when I feel her legs go rigid. She orgasms soon after that, huffing and groaning into the gag, followed by a yelp when I pull the plug out completely and drop it on the floor.
Armed with a generous amount of lube on my fingers, I push three of them into her ass, quickly adding a fourth when I feel that she can take it without needing any further stretching. Her eyes look up at me but I'm not sure she's really able to focus on me anymore, and I resume f*cking her while stroking her * with two fingers now.
While I would love to get my whole fist inside of her, it's obvious that I will need to spend a lot more time stretching her. As it is, I'm rather happy with how much she seems to enjoy the added attention today. Yet eventually my own need grows too strong and I stop, then lube up my cock before I thrust into her ass, my fingers continuing to rub her *. Relaxed as she is I don't need to waste any time going slow now, and the closer she gets to climaxing again, the tighter her ass grips my cock.
"Don't f*cking come before me!" I tell her seconds before I can't hold back anymore. She follows moments later, bearing down hard on my cock that is now buried deep inside of her ass. Slumping onto her, I keep my head pressed against her breast for a moment before I pinch her nipple, then pull back, leaving her spread on the bench with my come slowly leaking out of her ass.
Even after my own ragged breathing has leveled out I can hear her panting loudly, and she has that blissed out, high smile on her face that I love so much. Leaning over her again I kiss her roughly, then a little gentler as she joins in with fervor. Bella is still grinning when I move back just enough to look down at her, obviously satisfied and quite the worse for wear, her hair sticking to her sweat-soaked face and arms.
"I think we're off to a good start to the day, wouldn't you say?"
Her answer is a cut-off throaty laugh, speaking of exhilaration as much as of exhaustion.
"Shit, I don't think I'll survive until tomorrow if you keep going like this!"
"Let's see about that, shall we?" I offer, then start to undo the restraints one by one. One thing I agree with, if we keep on like this, neither of us will be able to stand by evening, but I don't think that will be much of a problem if things go even roughly according to plan. For now I'm happy that we've had a good start to what is going to be a very long day for both of us.