Story Codes: M/f, bdsm, cons, rom, latex, cuffs, collar, chains, spanking, caning, oral, anal, sex, X
Journal entry, 5/11, a.m.:
A whole weekend with Jill! A truly delightful prospect. After a long week of real work in the real world, we look forward to a couple of days of bondage bliss. I sit across from her at a table in a bright, noisy restaurant, looking into her slightly tilted green eyes. The sun streaming through the large windows makes her red hair seem particularly brilliant, falling down in cascades from under her wide-brimmed hat. She wears a long, diaphanous summer dress with lots of little buttons down the front, enough of them left open for me to see, quite clearly, the swells of her generously proportioned tits.
She's quite demure through brunch, chatting merrily away as we catch up on all the week's developments, but before we leave the restaurant, she pauses to take a small bottle of perfume out of her handbag. Tipping it up against the fair skin of her bare chest, she lets a single drop spill out of the bottle and roll slowly down her cleavage until it disappears out of sight. During the whole process, her eyes never leave mine.
Journal entry, 5/11 p.m.:
We make dinner together, nothing too complicated or elaborate, agreeing that light dining would be preferable prior to the amusements scheduled for the evening. When Jill offers to do the dishes, she gives me the perfect opportunity to put my plans into operation. I suggest that she leave the kitchen in its messy state for the moment and follow me into the bedroom. Jill loves every room in my apartment, she says, because you never have to crawl more than a few feet to find some kind of bondage gizmo. I suppose she's right.
The new outfit turns out to be a bit of a struggle. The skin-tight latex corselet puts up quite a fight, but eventually we get Jill packed into it, her tits spilling out of the rubber cups a bit. We note, as we hook up the tops of the stockings that the garter straps are attached to the front of the corselet, leaving her backside quite completely exposed. Moreover, though it comes down to her hips, it’s cut up in a curve in front so that its hem line rises to just above Jill's red fuzz. She remarks that she seems to be all cunt in this outfit. I have to admit; it does seem to draw the eye to certain parts of her anatomy.
Next comes the necessary polishing process, spraying the aerosol silicone from the squirt bottle onto the latex surfaces and then wiping it off with a soft towel. I can already feel her skin warming through the thin material. The rubber shines up instantly, gleaming alluringly in the soft light of the bedroom. The sheen of the latex on Jill's body makes her look fascinatingly surreal and futuristic. A few very important elements come next; her locking red leather collar with its single big, noisy shackle ring on the front, matching wrist and ankle cuffs padlocked in place and joined by short, shiny chains, and a pair of red ankle-strap pumps with heels so high it isn't easy to even stand up in them, let alone walk around.Jill survey's herself in the mirror, clearly pleased with what she sees. She remarks that she looks like one of the girls in the magazines we both like so much. I think she looks a lot better. Just to demonstrate her grace and balance, she walks up and down the room on her punishing heels moving with remarkable smoothness. In fact, the test I have in mind for her is considerably more difficult. Sending her over to the large chest of drawers in which we keep our more specialized play gear, I have her retrieve a large plastic bag from the top drawer. She brings it to me and sinks to her knees, offering it up in her hands above her head.
The bag contains a simple T-strap harness made of heavy rubber straps. Secured by buckles at the front, it goes on like a thong bikini bottom, with some unusual features, specifically a pair of rubber plugs mounted on the center strap. Though not prodigiously large and made from semi-rigid, pliable material, they have a way of focusing the wearer's attention, as Jill is soon to find out.I have her assume the presentation position: hands and knees with her face to the floor and her behind nicely elevated. Keeping her knees properly wide apart, she gives me a lovely view of her clean-shaven under parts. I can see that her pink slit is already quite wet, but a liberal application of lube from a little black squeeze bottle leaves her outer and inner lips dripping and glistening. The shaft of her clit feels hard between my fingers as I roll it back and forth between her pussy lips. A small shudder passes through her body and I hear the escape of a soft sigh from between her lips.
More lube for the plugs, flowing down the rubber unto the padded black surface of the ring-edged platform where she rests next to my bed. I fight off the urge to chain her down by the collar and fuck her on the spot. The front plug slides in easily, the back one with just a bit of resistance. Jill's tits rise and fall as she takes slow, deep breaths, willing herself to relax. I don't hurry the process, settling it slowly into her bottom, then buckling the straps tightly around her hips. She asks to have them a notch tighter to make the plugs more secure. Done.Jill does a slow walk around the room, getting used to the internal action of the harness. She describes herself as feeling quite full. I don't doubt it. Still, she manages to move around pretty well, so far. Taking a nice, solid, heavy leather flogger down from its peg, I point us out of the living room and toward the kitchen. She thanks me for letting her crawl instead of walk down the hallway. Actually, Jill has an exceptionally sexy way of crawling, deliberately stretching out her heels behind her and swaying her hips from side to side. The harness strap splits her pussy lips invitingly, even as it obstructs access.
To keep her moving along, I use the flogger liberally, the leather making a most satisfying splat against the flesh of her ass. Jill's fair skin flushes instantly under the lash, though marks fade from her equally fast. It's actually very convenient when she has to go to the gym on Monday mornings after our long weekends together. She lets out a little yelp with each stroke, but she doesn't move any faster, having been taught to keep a steady pace on any assigned task, regardless of distractions. It is that very training that will be demonstrated when we reach the kitchen.The lights are bright compared to the bedroom. We didn't make too much of a mess with dinner, but there is a small stack of plates and pots and pans next to the sink. I reach down and take hold of Jill under the arms to lift her up onto her heels. Her skin feels moist. Between the latex and her own growing excitement, she's already begun to break a sweat. When I get her standing, I notice a rivulet of perspiration running down into her much-compressed cleavage, as the perfume drop had during lunch. Funny how an idea takes root.
The stilettos make a delicate clicking noise on the tile as Jill carefully negotiates her way to the sink and goes right to work without being told. The chains at her wrists and ankles rattle and glint in the fluorescent lighting. She's very slow and methodical, taking each dish and rinsing it thoroughly, then bending down ever so cautiously to place it in the dishwasher. I can see the shifting of the harness between the cheeks of her ass with each movement, producing all kinds of internal agitation. Jill is very quiet throughout the whole process, concentrating furiously on the task at hand, her lovely face knitted with the effort.Coming up behind her, I run my hands up and down the front of her body, stopping to squeeze her tits nice and hard, feeling her nipples erect even through the layer of latex. My fingers wander down to the strap between her legs, searching for her clit under the thick rubber. It's erect too. Up close, she smells of rubber, sweat, perfume, sex and dish soap. It's quite intoxicating.
Then, predictably, Jill drops a spoon on the floor. She whimpers in frustration. There's nothing else to be done. She bends fully over, showing me her behind as the harness inevitably draws the plugs into her more deeply with the stretching of the straps, plucks the spoon from the floor and puts it in the dishwasher. Then she pours in the soap, closes up the door and starts the machine. A final mopping of the counters and Jill turns to me, breathing heavily, a proud smile on her face. She's done her job despite serious obstacles. Now she's earned herself a reward.Our idea of a reward is a bit unconventional. In fact, it might be a lot of people’s idea of punishment. But then, we're not a lot of people. We're us, taken as we're found. Jill has gotten quite good at navigating in her demanding costume, so I take her by the hand and walk her back down the hallway, quite proud of the way she keeps her head up and her shoulders back.
We stop at OA door to the playroom. It's not a big fancy dungeon, but hit has a few nice touches: mirrored walls, a nicely padded bondage table surrounded by shackle rings, an electric hoist with a sturdy suspension bar hanging from an adequately high ceiling. Jill can't help stealing another glance at herself in the mirrors. She's a figure of fantasy in gleaming obsidian, with accents of red at the lips, nails, collar, cuffs and shoes. Wonderfully striking.And speaking of wonderful striking, it's time for Jill's reward. Sitting down on the bondage table, I invite her to lay across my lap. She climbs onto me very politely, slowly lowering her weight over my knees. She feels very warm, but not as warm as she will be. Jill likes, indeed loves, a good, hard spanking. With her butt completely bare and the rest of her all covered up, the connection seems obvious. I start with light swats that quickly become heavier, creating a splotch of crimson on each cheek. Using my left arm to hold her around the waist, I pull Jill in close to me so her inevitable squirming won't take her bottom out of target range. This is one of her true turn-ons, and there's no mistaking her sighs and moans, interspersed with the sharp report of my palm slapping her ass. The undulations of her body make it obvious that she's working the plugs inside her, getting herself hotter and hotter.
By the time I'm done spanking, her rear cheeks are almost as red as her hair. My occasional pressing in of the plug strap produces wet squelching noises inside her. Her breathing his heavy and ragged. We're getting to the good part.Jill groans a little at the news that she will once again be on her feet, but is happy to hear that she'll have a bit of help remaining that way. Steering her over to the hoist, I position her under the bar and attach her wrist cuffs with carabiner clips. A quick touch of the button and the electric hoist takes up with startling abruptness, pulling Jill up to her tip toes. She lets out a startled gasp at the power of the apparatus, but I stop it before she's really lifted off the floor. Just her heels are elevated off the carpet.
The position is clearly a strain and her skin, where exposed, is now shiny with sweat. But when I come to kiss her, she returns my kiss lightly and sweetly as if undisturbed by her harsh circumstances. Now that her behind has been properly warmed up, I know she's ready for something more serious. I offer her the choice of the cane, which is very harsh to be sure, or the Italian dressage whip, which is even worse. She chooses the dressage whip, even though it's hard for her to so much as speak at this point.It's a nasty, slender, wicked thing with a festively colored handle and deceptively mild appearance. Why is that the things that look the most harmless are usually the most painful? It swishes through the air to bury itself in Jill's ass flesh. She cries out. The chains rattle. A thin, deep, red welt rises instantly. I hardly have to use any strength with this whip. It's so cuttingly sharp, even a light tap leaves an impressive stripe.
I try to work neatly, laying the stripes an inch apart from the upper curve of her bottom all the way down her thighs. First, I work left to right, with the far cheek getting the worst of it, then I change sides to make sure her sufferings are evenly divided. Little mewling whimpers accompany each stroke, in between which I give her plenty of time to contemplate the next. Jill's nostrils flare as she bites her lip, trying to control her heaving respiration.At last, I offer her the whip to kiss, signaling the end of her ordeal. By now, her behind is laddered with rows of parallel stripes, interrupted by the black harness strap bisecting her up the middle. Hitting the switch, I lower her into my arms and unhitch her from the bar. Jill sinks to her knees again, going down to kiss my boots in gratitude. I love watching her little pink tongue flicking out to caress the black leather.
More fun things lie ahead. I introduce her to a powerful vibrator that sits on the floor so she can ride on its wide, padded oscillating surface. Even at the low speed, its heavy-duty motor stirs the plugs up inside her furiously. Kneeling over the device on the floor in front of me, she reaches up with her chained hands to pull down my zipper. I spring out to meet her and she goes right to it, her soft, full lips taking me in welcomingly. The more the vibrator works away on her, the more fervent her sucking and licking become. She slides me out of her mouth for an instant, she turns her green eyes imploringly up at me and requests permission to come. Who could refuse? She settles back in to concentrate fully, her orgasmic exclamations smothered by a mouthful of meat as the waves of contractions rack her kneeling body.Now, at last, it's my turn. I point at the bondage table. She crawls to it, still panting from her righteous climax, and climbs up, automatically assuming the presentation position. The straps are slippery with sweat and lube, but I manage to get the harness undone and slide the plugs out of her with minimum mess and bother, tossing it to the floor where it lands with a thump. Everything in front of me is now nicely opened up, all wet and greasy and beckoning. Taking my time, I ease myself into the tighter opening to the rear. The harness has done its job well. There's little difficulty getting in, but she still feels tight and hot. When my slow, gentle movements become more urgent, she begins making those loud, animalistic noises that girls make when getting it in the ass. I've waited as long as I can wait. The explosive conclusion is at hand.