Watching Her Pain

Matthew sat naked and cross-legged on cushions leaning against the wall. Rope bound him firmly in place but the ties were gentle and comfortable. He sat back and watched the two people in front of him.

Rowena knelt stiffly in the middle of the room, also naked, in front of Liam.
“Good girl”, he praised her.

Liam took her wrists and twisted rope around them. He bent her body across a bench and fastened her in place. Gently he began to spank her and slowly the tension went out of her body. Continue reading “Watching Her Pain”

Raped, Whipped and Drowned

Mat and I went away for the weekend. Our first ever trip away together; it was memorable for many reasons but certainly having the time and space to play was certainly one of them.

We drove through the night until shortly before dawn we stopped, exhausted and decided to check into a hotel. Once in our room the tiredness was temporarily forgotten as my boy pushed his boy-cunt up at me invitingly and I was glad to claim it.

I fucked him hard until he whimpered but it was not enough for either of us. I lay back on the bed still wearing my strap-on and watched as he fucked himself on it, his hand wanking his cock, his body arched back in pleasure until he came, shaking and moaning rapturously. I took him again in the morning, twice more and left him sore before we hit the road again.

Once in a hotel at our destination we spent some time on other diversions. The paddle, the crop and the flogger all saw service as, with our music playing, I concentrated on hitting him. Spread out on the white sheets his whole body was available to me and I played the flogger over it all. When I came to his feet he lifted them up to me and I cupped my hand underneath them, steadying them as I gently stroked and whipped the soles with my pink flogger. He didn’t flinch or pull away as I held him, my willing and trusting victim.

The most memorable moment of all though was in the swimming pool. Alone together, with no lifeguard, I held him as he floated in the pool. Then holding his nose gently I pushed his head under the water. He lay still, cradled in my arms, unable to breathe until I brought him back to the surface. Several times I did this and his cock grew hard in response. He was utterly mine in that moment, offering his life and breath to me, treasured in return.

Later on we discussed our weekend, so busy and full in many ways.
“I’ve been raped, whipped and drowned” he commented.
Our eyes met, and our thoughts and smiles came together.
“A very good weekend”.

I Want To Make Him Cry

I want to hurt him but I want so much more than that. I want to reach his heart. I want to touch the depths of his soul. I want to tear him into little pieces and then gently put him back together.

My boy moves me so deeply. He can make me laugh, cry, gasp, scream, squirt and cum.

I can make him laugh, whimper, moan, squeal and cum but I cannot ever make him cry.

So when the moment comes I will hurt him. I will pour all of my love into it and I will do the only thing I can do. I will whip him until I cry, until my arm is exhausted and my energy spent, until I have given him everything I am.
I wonder if that will be enough.

Time Well Spent

She was naked while the woman who stood before her was fully clothed. A part of her wondered why she had done this, agreed to submit to this woman that in many ways she hardly knew. ‘It’s only for two hours’ she reassured herself but her watch lay with the neat pile of clothes in another room on the other side of the locked door.

The room was windowless but it was painted white and well lit, she wished it had been darker so she felt less exposed. Against the white the darkness of the few pieces of furniture was a stark contrast, each with attachment bolts and suddenly looking ominous. As if her fearful glances had been noticed the Domme led her to the cross against the wall and buckled her wrists and ankles in place, leaving her facing the wall, stretched in an ‘X’ and unable to see what was happening behind her. Continue reading “Time Well Spent”

A Twist Of Memory

I need to hurt him.
I twist the rope through my fingers and remember…

His body stretched out,
Hands pressed against the wall,
Naked, vulnerable and strong.

Rope looped and twisted,
Strands rough against my palm,
Each arc swinging freely.

Each stroke a caress,
Leaving its criss cross mark,
His shoulders signed with a kiss.

He takes each stroke,
But it’s not enough for him,
It’s not enough for me.

I need him to scream.
To see his body tense
and yet still hold his place.

I need him to take my pain,
To set it free
And cry his love for me.

I need to hurt him…
I twist the rope through my fingers and remember.

Coffee With A Colleague

Continued from: New Boy At School

Face scarlet with shame Paul sped down the school corridor hardly looking where he was going.
Suddenly he collided with a woman hurrying the other way sending the books and papers she was carrying flying in a sudden snowstorm.
“I’m so sorry” Paul was genuinely distraught as he bent to help gather up the scattered work. “It’s OK” she smiled at him again, “you’ve had a difficult day”.
Paul regarded the pretty smile of the youngest teacher he had met in the staff room warmly, despite remembering how hard she had spanked him earlier.
“Let me buy you coffee” he offered impulsively and was delighted when she agreed.
Papers gathered up, they walked outside together and with few words strolled down to the nearest coffee shop to the school. Not until both were settled at a quiet table with a latte and a cake did conversation resume. Continue reading “Coffee With A Colleague”

Fireworks on Bonfire Night

It was going to be a large fireworks display. Hundreds of people milled about buying drinks and food from the many stalls around the arena. At one side a railing marked the edge of the arena and beyond that lay a large open space. The far side of that space held some fireworks arranged ready to be set off and to one side a large pile of wood and bric-a-brac which formed what would be the bonfire.

Eventually a dark shape moved in the gloom and the bonfire sprang into life, a huge glowing and crackling pile of debris. It was too far away to feel the heat from it although it cast a beautiful light across the field.
Rowena took Matthew’s hand, “come with me”, she insisted.

The two of them walked away from the railing, and away from the arena towards the car park. Packed full of cars it was empty of people as everybody thronged the arena. From there they found the fence surrounding the site with trees growing in front of it along its length.

Rowena led her boy, her heart thumping, along the fence back towards the field. There was no one around as they squeezed past the fencing meant to mark the edge of the area where the public were allowed. Their clothes were dark and they were easily lost in the shadows. Skulking behind the trees they continued around the edge of the field towards the bonfire until it stood between them and the crowd. The heat from the fire was fiercely intense at this short distance.

“Strip”, Rowena ordered Matthew quickly.
He looked hesitant for a moment, but a look at his mistress’ eyes in the firelight convinced him that she was serious and he undressed quickly. Neatly he folded his clothes in a pile on the ground, ready to be put on quickly if necessary.
Rowena turned away drawing a pen knife from her pocket and cutting a switch from a low branch of the trees which they stood under. She laid it down on the ground for a moment.
Ordering Matthew to come and stand by the fence she drew some short lengths of rope from her pocket and bound his wrists to it, wrapping the rope around the posts. He shivered slightly, the roughness of the fence against his chest, and the fire’s heat against his back.
Rowena stepped back to admire the beauty of this man bound naked before her, then looking back at the fire, still shielding them from the view of the crowd.

She picked up the switch. It whistled through the air, and Mat gasped as it struck him. It left a neat red line across his buttocks, almost glowing in the orange light. The fire crackled noisily and the hum of the distant crowd could be heard behind it.
Rowena raised the switch again. Matthew struggled slightly, testing the rope around his wrists as the blows fell.
He became lost in the moment; the pain, the warmth of the fire, the rope holding him in place and the ceaseless crackle of the fire became his universe.
Suddenly his universe expanded; a new noise, a whizzing that filled the air followed by a huge bang, and a gasp from the remote crowd. Rowena glanced round, the fireworks had begun. She whipped him once again, watching his body twitch in response to both her blows and the fireworks’ explosions.

Then before the bonfire burned too low she turned away and tossed the switch onto the fire watching it crackle furiously as the flames licked at it. Turning back, she untied Matthew from the fence, and he quickly slipped back into his clothes. Together they hurried back under the trees to return to the arena.

As the fireworks continued to fill the sky with glorious patterns of light they stood among the crowd; arms around each other, heads back, looking into the sky. They had made their own kind of fireworks tonight.