Neighbourly Relations Ch. 02

Smack! Smack!

"Bad girl!" I tell her sternly. "Donot move. Not an inch, do you hear me?"

Meekly, and in a voice dripping with desire, she manages to reply:

"Yes sir."

I turn the vibrator's speed up a little, to halfway, and again hold it close to her. She really has to restrain herself, forcing herself to ignore the urge to try and grind herself down against it, and eventually I reward this perseverance by pressing the plastic tip just very, very gently against her, barely touching her, just for the briefest of moments.

"Oohhhhhhhhh......."

She cannot suppress the moan of pleasure, which fades into disappointment as I quickly withdraw the implement. She doesn't beg or plead for more though, she already knows better than that.

"You want more?" I ask teasingly.

"Yes... sir. Yes please, sir."

"More ofthis?"

I place the vibrator against her once again, this time sideways-on, rubbing it slowly up and down, up and down.

"Oh God yes!" she cries, her whole body spasming as the pleasure flows through her, again interrupted after just a few moments as I take it away, and she falls flat, crying out in frustration.

"Please..." she whispers desperately, barely audibly.

I say nothing but grin to myself, switching the vibrator up to full speed so that she can easily hear how fast it's going. Once more I press the very tip against her, this time right up against her clit, and she cries out sharply in pleasure. Again it's just for a moment though, and again the pleasure quickly turns into frustration.

Again and again I put her through this, sometimes allowing the vibrator to touch her just for the briefest of moments, sometimes for several seconds at a time, but never long enough to allow her full satisfaction. Once or twice I even allow the end of it to slip inside of her, but never very far, always leaving her excited but unfulfilled. She becomes so wet it's almost unbelievable – the vibrator is slick and sticky with her juices, which also drip from between her legs to the floor, forming a sticky little puddle of desire in the space between her bound feet.

"I know what you want," I tell her quietly as I push the vibrator into her soft, wet, welcoming sex. "I know all about what you want, youdirty girl..."

Further and further into her until it's almost all the way in, and despite my earlier command she forces herself as far as she can back onto it as she moans deeply in pleasure, thinkingthis time, this must be the time I'm going to allow her to finish, to experience the glorious climax she's been building up to for so long...

But no. I switch the vibrator off and pull it out, leaving her desperate and bewildered, her moan fading into a cry that sounds like real physical pain as her ache is left once more unfulfilled.

"This is what you want," I say, as I place the vibrator back into the box and pick up the hairbrush. Barely giving her time to process my words, I draw it back and then slap the flat plastic side of it hard against her, right between her legs, right into her wetness. It hits her with a resounding smack, sounding like a hand being brought crashing down onto flat water as it strikes her sopping dampness.

"This is what you want, what you need, isn't it?" I demand, as again and again I force the brush against her, harder and harder with each blow, my fingers gripped so tightly around the handle that my knuckles are white. Again and again the plastic surface lands with painful force and speed against the open, wet and unprotected space between her legs.

"Yes!" she cries out joyfully, lifting her head up from the table. "Yes sir!" she shouts, even louder. "Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

She's close now, so close, the stinging pain right in her most sensitive of areas exactly what she needs, the delicious contrast of the torture and the extreme pleasure. She's bucking and writing in her bonds, making the table shake with the force of her movements as I hit her so many times I lose count, losing myself once more in the action of striking her as her cries build and she gets closer and closer to orgasm.

Now it's time, now is the moment between us. I drop the brush to the floor where it falls with a clatter, and then start using my hand, slapping her ever harder with my bare fingers, which come back sticky and wet with her juices as they make contact with her.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

This is too much for her and she can no longer form words, merely guttural animal noises as she shouts out, about to reach her orgasm. With the last smack I plant on her sex I keep my hand there, touching her properly for the first time as my slippery fingers reach out for her clitoris and massage it furiously, rubbing up and down as quickly as I can. Instinctively she pushes herself down as far as she can onto my hand, her thighs pumping as she basically fucks it for all she's worth. This is far, far too much for her and at last it sends her over edge, crying out in ecstasy as finally I allow her to reach the orgasm she's been waiting for, shouting out in blissful oblivion.

When she's done, she sighs deeply and collapses back onto the sweat-soaked pillows beneath her, taking long, deep, grateful breaths, utterly spent. I barely know what to think as I withdraw my hand from her, and it takes me a few moments to compose myself. I can barely believe what has just happened, and I'm in something of a daze.

I leave her there for a little while, getting her breath back, calming herself down. I wash the brush, the vibrator and my hand, placing the implements back into their box and putting the box away in my room. After a few minutes I move back to her, her body still stinking of sweat and sex, and I gently unbind her, taking all of the ties except for the blindfold back into my room. When I return she's still bent over the table, silently awaiting commands, her breathing close to normal.

I pull her skirt down again, covering her wetness, and allow her to close her legs which she'd kept spread, gently touching them to encourage her to place them back together. Then I lean forward, undo the blindfold and just as she lifts her head to allow me to take it away, I give her a gentle, tender little kiss on the cheek.

"You may stand," I say quietly.

She does so, looking shaky on her feet, but the look in her eyes and the smile she wears tell me how deeply satisfied she is. Her face is flushed red and strands of her hair stick to the sweat on her forehead, but I can tell from the way she looks at me that she wouldn't have missed a single moment of this morning for anything in the world.

Well, neither would I.

"You can go," I tell her simply. "Oh, and the same arrangement still applies as regards touching yourself – you are only to experience pleasure as and when I wish it, understand?"

I still have no way of enforcing this of course, but she nods all the same. Her submissiveness may be a little more confident and playful now we're in the aftermath rather than in the full-on throes of the game proper, but it's still there.

"Yes sir," she replies brightly.

"Good. Now go home and have a shower – you stink."

She looks at me, a little unsure for a moment, perhaps nervous again.

"You could..."

She stops, seems to think better of it, trailing off. I'm curious, however.

"Yes?"

She swallows, composes herself, looks at me meaningfully.

"You could shower with me?" she suggests, quietly.

I shake my head. God, two days ago if a beautiful woman like that had made such an offer to me I would have been in there like a shot. But that was two days ago – things are different now. That's not to say I'm not tempted – Christ, I'm tempted – but I know I can't.

"No," I say simply, and she looks down, disappointed and despondent. "I'll be in touch," is all I say. "Now go."

She nods again and goes to the door, opening it. Just as she's walking out, however, she pauses, turns back to me, and whispers:

"Thank you."

Before I can reply she's gone, shutting the door behind her, the sound of her heels clipping on the stairs as she descends to her own flat.

Once she'd gone, I collapsed onto my sofa, grinning to myself about what had just happened. I realised how damp my own underwear was probably getting – my cock had been positively leaking pre-cum as it ached ever harder beneath my jeans, yearning but unsatisfied itself. It occurred to me that in neither of our encounters so far had I asked or made Jane do anything for me, gotten any direct satisfaction from the experience... But that would come, I had no doubt about that. Besides, the experience was more than enjoyable as it was – the constant adrenaline surge of arousal, strung out over a long period of time... It was bliss.

Mind you, I still needed something at the end of it. Closing my eyes and thinking back over the extraordinary morning I'd just spent with her, I reached down and began to unzip my jeans...