(Contains BDSM and such)

So she has on padded leather wrist and ankle cuffs and is suspended between two posts in my basement, hanging there like an X.  Yeah, the two posts you helped me put up a few months ago, the ones I couldn’t explain what they were for. Well, now I am explaining. Each wrist cuff is clipped to a ring on the post so she has the option of holding the ring or hanging from the cuff. At her feet on each post are small adjustable shelves. Today they are adjusted so she can stand on them, taking some of the weight off of her arms, but only if she stands on tip toe. The ankle cuffs are also clipped to a ring. She can take her feet off the shelves but her legs will stay spread open. Just the way I like ‘em. There is a mirror on the wall in front of her so she can see what is happening or about to happen. But not this time. This time she is blindfolded. She is not very high above the floor. When I stand in front of her my head is just about centered between her tits and her belly button. I can use my teeth to pull the little chain hanging down from the nipple clamps if I want. And of course I do. Then I trace my fingers through the trimmed patch of pubic hair. I feel her slightly shift her hips forward. She is eager to play.

I step behind her and grab my modified lumberman’s rule. What’s a lumberman’s rule? Think of a yardstick. A ruler. Thin piece of wood three feet long. Got it? The lumberman’s rule is a yardstick but on steroids. Instead of being lightweight and easy to break, the rule is made of spit hickory, a hard wood, so it is flexible but strong. The last six inches on one end is rounded and enlarged to fit the palm of a hand. The other end has a  diamond shape metal piece with sharp points facing away from the edge of the rule. The rule is used at sawmills and lumber yards. The sharp point allows an inspector to flip over large boards so he can see both sides and then flex the shaft down against the board to measure the width. This is an old one. It was my father’s. I cut off the metal piece and what I have left is a  cross between a leather belt and wooden paddle. It makes a fantastic ‘crack/whack’ sound on soft flesh. You know, it was a yardstick that got this whole thing started.

We were working out together here at my house. Yeah, that’s her, the one I told you I was helping to train. She would show up at the gym and work out like a demon. An ignorant demon, you know what I’m saying? She worked hard but had no idea what she was doing. I hate to butt in on someone’s workout but she was hurting herself more than helping so I finally offered a little tip. Kind of a ‘hey, try it like this. You will get more results and do less damage.’ She came back for more advice, said she was trying to get ready for bikini season, you know, lose a few pounds and get a little muscle tone. She didn’t dress to impress but from what I could see I thought she was already bikini ready. But being the good Samaritan I am I offered to help. So we started working out together. I’ll say one thing. She had determination. She wouldn’t quit so I started testing her. Pushing her. Extra reps if I didn’t like the way she did the first ones. Make her hold the weight as long as she could. And she would do it without complaint.

Then I mentioned I had my own little gym in my basement. She asked if she could try it. Get away from the show offs with their tight clothes and all the mirrors. I told her I had mirrors up in my gym and for good reason. Yeah, it’s conceited to look at your body all the time but it also provides positive reinforcement. You watch the change in your body as it takes place. See muscle where before there were none. Build up some self confidence. I watched the skinny me grow some muscles so I pushed harder to make them bigger. Arnold Schwarzenegger thought his calves were too small so he cut off his sweatpants so he had to look at them every day and it motivated him to work them harder. Also I can check my posture and movement. Sometimes what feels right is not what is right. When she showed up she was dressed different. Her top was sort of  a black sports bra/compression shirt combo. Tight fit. Bare stomach showing and she was not far from showing some abs. Yoga pants. Black, tight, thin yoga pants. After the first couple of exercises I told her we were going to try some dumbbell dead lifts. They are easy. Basically it’s touching your toes while holding some weights. Knees slightly bent, back straight. What does she do? Instead of bending at the waist she rounds off her back. Looking like a wilted flower. I grabbed a yardstick that was leaning against the wall and gave her a pop on the ass. She jerked up and looked at me. “You didn’t do what I told you” I said. “Now do it again. Slow. Keep your back straight and bend at the waist” As she bent over I said “You will feel some stretching here in  your glutes” and I popped her ass again. “And here in your hamstrings” and I popped her on the back of her legs. I told her to hold it at the bottom of the movement and then raise up slowly. “Now do it ten more times just like you did that one”. I moved around until I was behind her. Yoga pants. Tight, thin yoga pants. Damn.

I asked her to stay for dinner. Whipped up a grilled chicken spinach salad. Of course I still put bacon grease in the honey mustard. I may be trying to eat lean but bacon is bacon and transcends all diet requirements. As we neared the end of a bottle of wine I apologized for the yardstick. I told her I had been reading some BDSM short stories on the website where I post my drawings and poems. Yeah, I let her read a few and I think she was surprised a muscle head could put together some rhymes. She admitted she liked reading those kind of stories too. About half way through the second bottle she told me she her most frequent fantasies were about bondage. She mentioned one about being tied up and, how did she say it, ‘being taken as many ways as possible over and over and over…’ My read on that is she wants more than one guy doing the taking. As she is leaving I tell her I really liked the yoga pants but next time wear shorts.

Damn straight she wore shorts. Very short shorts and a sports bra. Man I made up exercises just to watch her move. And I made it a point to use the yardstick a few times. So for a finishing exercise we used the overhead pulleys. I put those Velcro wraps around her wrists and hooked them to the cables. She basically flapped her arms like a bird but slowly and using weights. It’s a good exercise for the lats, those back muscles that give a person the V shape. I told her it would help make her waist look small. Like she needs it. But she thinks she does. When she raised her hands up I would put the pin in the weight stack, she would do a set, and I would pull the pin out so she could lower her arms. The last set, when she raised her hands, I put the pin in the bottom hole. She asked me if I expected her to lift that much. She could have lifted her feet off the floor and those weights wouldn’t move. I told her no, now that I had her restrained I was going to have my way with her. Yeah, I think that’s how I said it. ‘Have my way with her’ like some B-movie bad guy. She didn’t panic or beg so I stepped up close behind her, reached out, and pulled the pin from the bottom of the weight stack. When she turned and I saw the look on her face I knew I had made a mistake. No. No, man, she looked disappointed. It was like she quit right there. No drive to do the next exercise. No effort. She just went through the motions. So I told her the last one would be dead lifts but not with the dumbbells. I had her bend over and I hooked her wrist straps to the lower pulleys. The pin was in the bottom hole. She gave a half hearted attempt at moving it. Until I stepped behind her and yanked her shorts down. I was going to pull her panties down too but there wasn’t much there, a thong maybe. She tried to raise up then but couldn’t. Then I started whacking her ass with the yardstick and told her if she was going to work out with me she would give it her best and not be a slacker. It broke on about the fourth or fifth whack so I used my hand. I kind of got carried away and when I finally stopped her ass was so red it glowed. I felt bad about losing control. But I liked it. Man, my dick was so hard I could have hammered nails with it. I put my hand on her ass and felt how hot her skin was. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to rip off her panties and fuck her or spank her some more. But somewhere inside I knew that was enough. I needed to pace myself, show a little restraint, so I pulled up her shorts, took off the wrist straps, told her if she still wanted to work out to be here Thursday at six, and I went upstairs.

She did. Thursday at six. I swear she must have stood at the door until it was exactly six o’clock. Guess what she was wearing. Nope. Sweats. She had on a sweat shirt and sweat pants that would have been too big for me. She looked like Jabba the Hut. I’m looking at her and thinking, okay she wants to continue the work outs but this is her way of putting a stop to the other part, when she says “You didn’t tell her what to wear this time“. While I am trying to sort out where this is going she lets the pants fall to floor and pulls the shirt over her head. Nothing, nothing is what she had on underneath. I didn’t tell her to wear anything so she didn’t wear anything. Oh man, we both worked up a good sweat in that workout.

Anyway, she looks good hanging there, standing on tiptoe. She is in great shape. Toned and lean. Calf muscles flexed. So are her lats and biceps since she is holding onto the rings. Holding herself up some instead of hanging. I can see all of her flex with the first lick from the rule. That’s what my high school principal called them. Licks. ‘That’s’ gonna get you ten licks with my ol’ paddle.‘ The only sound is the gunshot crack of the impact. No whimper. Whimpers are harder to get than they used to be. But they taste so sweet when I get one. I slide the rule over her ass and down the back of one leg. That’s another good thing about the rule. Polyurethane, or in the case of this one being so old it may be varnish or shellac, anyway it’s shiny and smooth. No splinters. It slides up her thigh and I tap the anal plug a couple of times before guiding it between her lips. It glistens with  moisture when I pull it away. In fact she glistens with moisture. Sweat. I lick some from the small of her back. I had already warmed her up with the light flogger. On her back, tits, stomach, pubic region. Oh yeah, that got me a whimper. A small one but still tasty.

She is still tiptoeing or trying. She is not one to quit but her body language is less defiant, her head is hanging down. Red stripes crisscross her ass, the back of her legs, the inside of her legs. She jolts back to life when I press the vibrator to her clit and turn it on. Not too much of that. By now she wants to come. Needs to come. But it’s too early. We’ll have time for that later. So I take her down, throw her limp body over my shoulder, and carry her up the stairs. I lay her on my bed. She is happy to feel the bed. Whatever happens now at least the bed will be soft underneath her. I clip her ankles together, her wrists together behind her back, and then use a short leash to connect the wrist and ankles together in sort of  a loose hogtie. I pick her up and place her on the floor in my closet where she will wait for round two.

Really. I’m serious as a heart attack. She is tied up and lying on the floor in my closet right now while I drink a beer and eat some chips. Got to load up on some carbs. Going to be a long night. Oh, the next session is the simmer phase. No, the closet is just a rest break. See first session was to tenderize her. Get her mind right and her body primed. In the next session I will use every tool I have. Tongue. Fingers. Toes. Vibrator. Popsicle. Whatever. I will use every tool I have to keep her simmering for about an hour. Bring her almost to a boil, when you see those bubbles forming on the bottom of the pan, and then let her cool back down. No, boil is orgasm. Are you paying attention? I want to bring her close to orgasm but not let her have it. NO, not in the closet. I will put her on the bed. Probably tied spread eagle. Play with her. Tease her. Bring her close to orgasm and then take it away. Again and again. Make her say ‘please’. Beg a little. Then it will be time for the final phase. I will pull her feet up close to her ass, her arms down her sides, and clip her wrist cuffs to her ankle cuffs. Sort of a modified hog tie/ frog tie which will be more comfortable for her if she opens her legs. But she would anyway, she has been trained to open her legs and at this point she doesn’t want any more of the rule. Then I will roll her over with her ass in the air, prop her up with pillows so her mouth will be accessible, pull the anal plug, and fuck her as many ways as possible and as many times as possible. Yeah, that was one of her fantasies. I’m glad you were paying attention. Remember when I said I thought it was job for more than one man?

What are you doing a little later, say in about an hour?