tagErotic CouplingsSilk Scarves

Silk Scarves

byBedtime Storyteller©

(c) July 2003 - all rights reserved.

The silk scarves were left on the kitchen table where she would see them, and all day she wondered when he planned to use them and where. Would she be tied to a chair in front of the living room window to service him while her neighbors walked their dogs and mowed their lawns? Would he tie her to the bed while he teased her with his tongue and denied her the orgasm she so desperately craved? It was thoughts like these that tortured her all afternoon and forced her to steer clear of her bathroom where she kept her vibrator, hidden in a box of tampons, for emergencies. While today could be construed as an emergency, she didn't want to spoil her appetite for this evening.

Instead, Lanie kept herself busy with laundry and cleaning out a closet in the spare bedroom. The closet was full of things she had moved from her apartment but had never had time to go through. Near the back she found a plaid tote bag full of books. She pulled it out and sat on the bed to go through it.

Near the bottom, under copies of classic novels she had read over and over, was a book covered in blue floral fabric. It was her college diary, or, more specifically, her diary from her freshman year. It had been the year she had discovered sex, and had become addicted to the rush she got from knowing a boy desired her. Thanks to her conservative upbringing, there was no one she could confide in, so she poured her heart out to her diary, holding back nothing. No detail was too intimate for her to record, no names were withheld to protect the innocent - or guilty - as the case might have been. And if Hank found this, he would be so angry with her, knowing how she had freely given her body to strangers she met at frat parties in her small college town, when she was too drunk to walk home but not drunk enough to forget any details.

After holding it in her hands for a long time, just staring at the cover, she opened it. The first entry was dated October 14, 1991. She had been at school less than two months. She didn't even have to read past the first paragraph before the memories came flooding back.

It was a warm Friday night, and she had gone with some friends to dinner at Vinnie's, the only Italian restaurant in town. Not that there were a plethora of restaurants or anything. Altogether, there were four, if you didn't count the two gas stations that sold pizza. A group of guys were playing pool, and she couldn't help but notice one of them. He had dark hair, almost black, and wore a navy plaid shirt over a white T-shirt with jeans. Normally, this wouldn't stand out to her, but there was something about the way he watched her while he took a swig of his beer that caught her eye. She was also intrigued by what appeared to be a nice-size package in his jeans. She suspected he might also play football, because she thought she recognized a few of the guys he was with as being on the team.

As she and her friends were leaving, he nudged one of his buddies, who came up to her and pulled her aside. She recognized him from her American Lit class.

"Hi, Lanie."

"Hi, um..."

"It's Ted. You know, there's a party at the Delt house tonight."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You think you can come?"

"Of course I can come," she said slowly with a smile, looking past him at plaid-shirt boy, who was watching them intently. "But I'll also make it a point to be there."

His face turned red as he caught her double entendre. "Cool. Dave...er... We'll be looking for you."

She looked back at him and smiled. "Dave, eh? Thanks, Ted. I appreciate the invitation. And you can tell Dave I'll see him later, but it would be nice if he issued the invitation himself next time."

That night, Dave had come up behind her on the dance floor and pulled her against him, holding her hips as he danced behind her. Two songs later, she kissed him, and her fate for the evening was sealed.

Dave lived off campus in an apartment above the pizzeria, and had no roommates. They barely made it across campus with their clothes on, and by the time they reached his bedroom they were both naked. He wasn't a particularly tender lover, but his roughness excited her because it was so different from the only other guy she had been with. He backed her up against the wall as he devoured her mouth with his, all the while coaxing her clit into submission. Just as she was about to collapse, he spun her around and she landed on the bed with him on top of her, their lips locked the entire time.

She pulled her mouth away from his to catch her breath. He knelt above her and fed her his cock, which she accepted with some trepidation. She had only sucked off one other guy before, the same guy who took her virginity, and she was afraid her inexperience would show. But apparently she did well enough, because it didn't take long for him to pull out and shove all 7 inches of his hardness into her cunt in the space of a heartbeat. Three strokes later, he pulled out and came, shooting his load on her belly.

Putting the book aside, she slid her hand down her pants and parted her curls with her middle finger. She knew she was dripping wet, and it would be several hours before Hank returned. Surely a little one now wouldn't ruin things later, would it? She rubbed her clit, savoring the pressure of her finger on this hard nub of pleasure.

Lanie came almost instantly, crying out, which surprised her. She didn't usually make much noise during solo sex, but then again, she was unusually horny today.

After resting for a few moments, she readjusted her clothing and put the book away, returning the bag to its hiding place in the back of the closet. Hank would be so angry with her if he ever knew about the detailed accounts she had kept of her sexual exploits. As far as he was concerned, she belonged to him, body and soul, and when they married three months ago, she left her past behind. It was best if he continued to believe that, she concluded, and never discovered the unresolved issues she carried with her.

Lanie finished straightening up the closet and carried an armload of items out to her car for her next trip to Goodwill. Hank would be home in an hour, so her errands would have to wait another day.

Back in the kitchen, she fixed herself a cup of tea, fingering the purple silk puddle in the center of the table. She had not seen these particular silk scarves before, but knew he had selected them with a particular scene in mind, a scene he would reveal to her when he was ready.

Several weeks ago, Hank had used red scarves, using her as he would a whore from the red light district. He had purchased an outfit for her as well: worn denim shorts so short her rear peeked out from below the hem, and a fuchsia tube top better suited to a teenager. This ensemble was capped off with two-inch purple heels that made her feet hurt, but turned him on immensely. He insisted she keep them on the entire night, as he fucked her first in the driveway, bent over the hood of his Lexus, and later, as he tied her to the bed and used her mouth like a cunt, calling her his Two-Dollar Whore and insisting she swallow every drop of the cum he sprayed in her mouth.

Before that, it had been white scarves, symbolic of her virginity. He dressed her in a white baby-doll nightie of sheer white fabric trimmed in lace, with white crotchless panties and lace-topped thigh-high stockings held up by elastic. That was the night he took the only remaining virginity she had to offer - her virgin ass - and taped the entire experience. Knowing this tape was somewhere in their house bothered her to some extent, but yet another part of her was flattered, almost proud, that she had starred in his personal porno.

He had tied her across a small ottoman in the living room, the drapes wide open in case anyone wanted to watch. First he spanked her, reddening her bottom with a paddle she had never seen before, before liberally coating his cock with KY. Then he fingered her to the brink of orgasm before plunging his greased cock into her virgin ass, causing her to cry out. He fucked her roughly, pulling on her nipples and slapping her ass, her cries exciting him more, until he finally thrust deeply into her, squirting his hot semen into her.

Since then, he had been using her ass regularly, requiring her to finger herself to orgasm each time he fucked her there, telling her she would learn to enjoy it. She had not known of his strange preferences before they married, but then again, they had not had sex until their wedding night. He said he preferred to wait until she was legally his wife, bound to him by law, and he would then bind her to him, body and soul, in their marriage bed. She had no idea he meant literally bind her to their bed! However, she was strangely excited by the control he asserted over her, the way he insisted she not work but simply care for the house and pursue her hobbies, provided she was available to him when he wanted her. He made plenty of money, she knew, so money would never be an issue. She had agreed, simply because she wasn't quite sure what she would do if she had to work.

She wrapped one of the lengths of silk around her left wrist, enjoying the cool softness against her skin, noting the striking contrast between the deep richness of the purple and the paleness of her arm.

The phone rang, and she picked it up on the first ring. It was Hank, directing her to the freezer, where he said she would find something to help prepare her for tonight.

She opened the freezer and discovered a small satin box with a note attached. She read:

====================================

Lanie,

Tonight a sultan takes his pleasure. Insert these with plenty of KY, leaving the ring outside. They are cold to minimize your discomfort but also to heighten your awareness of them initially. You will then bathe with the scented soaps and lotions I have left beside the tub, and will dress in what I have hung behind the bathroom door. At 5 p.m., you will be waiting for me in our bedroom.

Hank

====================================

Inside the box was a string of small beads, slightly larger than marbles, equally spaced along a thin cord. At one end was a significantly larger bead, and at the other end, a plastic ring. Anal beads, she read on the insert, scanning the pictures describing proper insertion. Her stomach flipped as she considered what he was asking of her.

* * * * * * * * *

When Hank arrived home, Lanie was reclining on the bed, wearing an outfit reminiscent of a belly dancer, gauzy purple pants split up the sides, a bikini-type top of the same material, and a veil. She was surrounded by the scent of jasmine, and in the background a CD of Middle Eastern temple music played. The room was dim, lit only by groups of candles on her dresser and his chest of drawers, and incense burned beside the bed. The bed was draped red satin sheets. She had pulled the heavy drapes closed and scattered large cushions on the floor. On a bedside table were a glass of wine and a plate of grapes and cheese.

He disappeared into the bathroom without a word. When he emerged ten minutes later, amid a cloud of steam left from his shower, he was wearing a thin robe, his erection evident against the satin. She knelt on the bed and patted the place beside her. When he lay down, the front of his robe fell open, exposing his chest, and his penis wasted no time in pushing through the opening as well.

Lanie leaned over him to get the glass of wine and plate, her breasts brushing against his lips in the process. He flicked one nipple with his tongue, causing her inner muscles to contract. She was very turned on already, and the feel of the anal beads in her rectum rubbing against the ben wa balls in her cunt were keeping her very aware of what was to come. She had purchased the ben wa balls on a whim several weeks ago and had hidden them, waiting for the right moment to surprise him. Her juices were already flowing, making it increasingly difficult to hold onto them. She could tell why the package said they were good for toning pelvic muscles. Keeping them in wasn't easy!

She took a sip of wine, holding it in her mouth as she leaned over to kiss Hank, letting him sip the wine from her lips. Between sips of wine, she offered him grapes and cubes of cheese, but it didn't take long before he lost interest in the food and moved on to taste her nipples through the thin satin that hid them.

His hand slipped between her thighs and he caressed her labia with his fingers, rubbing her mound. Lanie cried out at the pressure he was exerting on the ben wa balls, still hidden inside her.

"Did you do as I asked, my pet?" Hank whispered in her ear.

"Mmhmm..." She responded, too turned on to find the words.

"That's too bad. I was looking forward to punishing you." His exploring finger encountered the first ball.

"Well well well... what have we here?" He flipped her onto her back and spread her legs. "I see you not only did as I asked, but you went a step further. How long have you these?" he asked, pushing the balls further into her body.

"A month or so," she whispered, as she squirmed against his invading finger.

"And you've kept them from me?"

"I bought them as a surprise."

"I see. And how do I feel about surprises, Lanie?"

"You don't like them."

"That's right. And what happens when you disobey me?"

"I have to be punished."

She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. "Yes, you have been a naughty girl, Lanie, and you need to be reminded of that. Undress," he commanded her.

She quickly disrobed, not even trying to be seductive. Any deviance from his commands would make him even more displeased with her now.

"On your knees, wench," he commanded.

Lanie knelt on the bed, her hands stretched outward toward the bedposts, her ass lowered to her thighs. Hank quickly located the purple silk scarves under his pillow and used them to bind her hands to the headboard. He tied her tight enough so she could not escape, but left enough slack that she could move her arms somewhat. He enjoyed watching her struggle a little.

She knelt before him, the purple gauze no longer separating his hand from her bare flesh. Her mouth was dry as she anticipated what was to come. She didn't have to wait long. She heard the paddle before she felt it, the whoosh of air followed by the stinging SMACK on her right ass cheek.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" The question was punctuated by another stinging SMACK on her left ass cheek.

"I'm sorry for surprising you," she whispered.

"I can't hear you." Each word was punctuated by a smack on her ass, which was getting redder each time.

"I'm sorry for surprising you," she said, louder this time.

"Turn over," he said, "and open yourself to me."

She turned over, her arms now crossed above her, and spread her legs to him. She winced as her sore ass slid on the sheets.

"Do you think I need to continue punishing you, or are you ready to cooperate now?"

She raised her eyes to him as he knelt over her body. Having him kneeling above her, controlling her pleasure and pain, excited her more than she could have imagined. She was dripping wet, and she wanted him to have his way with her. She could no longer tell where reality stopped and fantasy began.

"I am yours," she whispered. "Use me as you wish."

With a tug, he removed her ben wa balls, which were dripping with her juices. Wordlessly, he held them to her lips for her to clean them with her mouth. She accepted them without complaint or hesitation, sucking herself from the hard plastic, savoring the taste of her own excitement.

He tossed the balls aside and roughly spread her legs, pushing them up to her chest and opening her wide. She could see his engorged cock bobbing between her legs, and she longed to suck it, to feel the hardness encased in silken skin sliding between her lips, encircling the spongy head with her tongue. She licked her lips in anticipation as his eyes met hers. He knew what she wanted. But tonight, he would deny them both this simple pleasure, at least for now.

He plunged into her cunt, her slippery walls unable to prevent his complete penetration. She grunted from the sheer force of it, feeling him bottom out against her cervix. She was also acutely aware of the beads in her ass as he stroked in and out. His cock slid along the ridges of the beads, adding to her excitement. She felt as though she were on a roller coaster; her stomach was fluttering and her nipples were tingling as they brushed against the satin sheets.

After several minutes of this, he pulled out, leaving her open and exposed and wanting more.

"Turn over," he commanded again.

She rolled over, pulling her knees up underneath her and raising her ass, her legs spread to accommodate his imminent invasion. Her face pressed into the mattress as she awaited him.

He placed his penis at the entrance to her hole and gripped her hips as he plunged into her. He thrust slowly at first, allowing her to feel the entire length of him as he entered and withdrew, a move he knew would push her along the road to orgasm.

She felt his hand spread her ass cheeks, and it was then she remembered the beads. Those tiny little pearls of pleasure, just waiting to be released.

He slowly pulled on the string to release the first bead. It slowly stretched her sphincter, increasing the pressure before springing loose and initiating her climax. The feeling was exquisite, and she cried out in a mix of agony and ecstasy. He reveled in the feel of her pulsing sheath, knowing he held the key to her pleasure. His to give, and his to take... With each tug of the string, a bead popped out, pushing her to another peak. Ten beads, ten peaks, each one a little higher than the last.

With her final climax, he shot his load into her, crying out with the intenseness of his pleasure. His cock jerked inside her, spewing the final jets of semen into her womb. He collapsed on top of her, kissing the back of her neck.

After resting a few moments, he rolled off of her, untying her hands from the bedposts.

Without being asked, she took his cock into her mouth, cleaning it of their combined fluids. She savored the taste of the liquid passion that dripped from the head, a tangy saltiness with a hint of sweetness.

She offered him a sip of wine before he drifted off to sleep, leaving her to clean up the remnants of their lovemaking - to put away the cheese and grapes, turn off the music, and lower the temperature in the room so he could sleep comfortably.

Once he was sleeping soundly, she would slip into the bathroom and perch on the edge of the tub to capture the events in her diary lest they be forgotten. Her mind was already forming the description of the cool purple silk against her skin, warm from desire, and the feel of the beads as he popped them out...one...by...one....

And then, when all was taken care of, she would crawl into bed beside him and sleep, knowing he would take care of her.

(c) July 2003 - all rights reserved.

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