The Tempest and The Calm

Her head reeled with the strangeness of it. The feeling of being both participant and prisoner. Thunder clapped loudly from outside, the alarm of it causing her to bite down on the ball gag between her lips, flinching. That added pressure pushed a slick line of spittle drooling over the perforated plastic ball and off her full, glistening lips.

She heard a click and a mechanical whirling hum. She opened her eyes to see him lording over her bound form. A slow, deep laugh rolled through the imposing thickness of his hairy chest. "Poor thing, afraid of the thunder when I'm the one who's going to hurt you." His tone was something between ominous and promising. And she did not know which potential she preferred. She only knew the soft constriction of his ropes against her skin as he laid a line over the mound of her womanhood.

He pressed the vibrator against her lips, and she gasped at the sudden sensation. The contrast of the warm dry plastic emphasized how wanton his command had left her. Positively saturated, the hum of the toy was punctuated by the subtle swish of her excitement.

He cinched the toy against her need, and stood back to watch her pretty eyes loll and roll as that need swelled and filled her. He smiled, both warm and somehow cruel, stroking her hair as the first tremors of orgasm took her. He traced his fingers lightly over her soft flesh as the vibrator sent volts of pleasure through her depths. Orgasm rose let a relentless tide, crashing again and again against the shores of her self.

Helpless to do otherwise, she bucked and convulsed against her restraints. Each involuntary spasm cinched her bonds tighter, biting into her flesh. Pain seeped into the landscape of her ecstasy, swirling it to greater heights.

His laugh and the driving rain on the windows were distant things now. She was being pushed back by sensation, overwhelmed, a prisoner to her need. With desperate effort, she peeled open her eyes and slurred inarticulate around the wet gag, beseeching him.

"More?" He posed, knowing her need, commanding it as his tool.

Relief at his mastery of her flesh, the anticipation of her lust, and the exciting fear of what more might come coalesced in her beautiful, meek eyes as she nodded slowly her confessed desire.

As she moaned around his gag, he whispered in her ear, "Just a start."

His grin was a wicked thing, primal and predatory, as he reached out and seized her by her bonds. His strength compelled her, and easily directed her around the bed. The ropes marked her flesh with constriction, and she release a muffled moan, though even she could not say if it were pain or pleasure wrenching it from her.

Her feet on the floor, he pulled her hands over the mattress and tied them to an anchor there. Face down and prone, she had never been so exposed, so raw, so wanton. His laughter was rolling thunder, and the soft nubuck tails of his flogger were rivulets of rainfall tracing the lines of her body. She shivered with sensation. And then it was gone.

Moments passed, as he watched her anticipation, her need growing ever more insistent. A tear rolled down her cheek as her body pleaded for release, any release. As she turned to search for him, the flogger fell, a short slap across the sensual curve of her ass. Twisting back, a rain of sharp but soft blows descended upon her. She blew her breath out and let his violence fill her. The flesh of her exposed ass sang with each blow. Every tremor became a deeper sensation, sharpness fading into a hot, numb sensation. She could feel the red glow growing from her cheeks. It left her saturated. She let herself slip into the sensation, thought becoming a distant thing.

His power over her was complete now. She knew this deeply as he whipped her with more brutal strikes. Her head reeled in his cruelty, and she was desperate for his mark. She wanted him on her flesh, to swell and ache with his presence. She looked back over her shoulder at his calm concentration, at his smile back at her. He reared back, gathering the straps together and driving them hard against the need of her flesh, then dropped the flogger at her feet and kissed her hard against the gag. The storm flashed outside, and she knew it was him. He was fury and violence. Yet he held her completely, controlled it entirely. He was both the tempest and the calm, against which her body broke. She shattered in orgasm.

-The End.