Their Unholy Love

Author's note: My thanks to my editor for her perceptive insights.

*****

- I've found the ideal spot darling.

She looked in his eyes and shivered. She hadn't been jesting when she told him she'd disobeyed him. But she was humouring him when she said that he'd have to beat her, before she'd tell him the details of her disobedience.

That had been weeks ago. Now his face had a hard edge she hadn't seen in a long time. She wanted to kiss him, love the hardness away, but it was impossible. Her mother couldn't see anything compromising. Which was why he had to find somewhere away from the house to do this to her.

- Darling mine. You really intend to hurt me?

She flinched at his expression.

- You told me I had to beat you.

- I did.

Too late now to tell him it had been a bit of online banter:

- When do you want to do this, master?

- Tonight. We can go for a walk after dinner, before it gets too dark. Looks like a fine evening.

- Yes.

He touched her shoulder lightly. She looked in his face again:

- I love you my darling master.

- As I love you, my soulmate, my slave. How do you feel about what we're going to do?

- Terrified.

- Good. This will be a new step for us. You know I have to push you, find your boundaries. -- he smiled -- If you have any that is. Your depraved needs are a bottomless pit.

- Every pit has a bottom.

- As my slave has. You know I love your arse.

She was nervy over dinner, but he seemed unfazed about what was about to happen; chatting in his usual way with her family. Presenting his lovely smile to her when their eyes met. He knew she was wet, with fear and excitement.

They touched sometimes, lightly, innocently, as they washed and dried the dinner dishes. Then there was no escape, no further procrastination. They kissed her family goodnight and walked into the sunset bush. She shivered as she considered the contents of his rucsac.

He'd found the clearing when he'd taken her bairns on an adventure walk earlier, whilst she was bent over her computer working. It was perfect. A single lightning-ravaged gum trunk, with one stout horizontal branch remaining a few feet above grassy ground. He'd tested the branch, it would take her suspended weight. Surrounded by dense brush: he didn't yet know the names of the plants. Or the names of the birds calling through the evening. He turned to her:

- Strip, slave.

She removed her tshirt and shorts. At least she'd obeyed him in this: she was naked beneath them. She looked in his lust-laden eyes:

- What's your pleasure master? Your slave is ready for anything.

He drew the coil of washing line from his rucsac:

- Back to the tree. Legs wide, arms wrapping the trunk behind you.

Jesus, he was so thorough. He'd probably measured the diameter of the trunk. She leaned back against it, watched as he worked the rope till she was bound. The trunk scraped her back. Her limbs were stretched hard. She knew that the less she moved, the less pain there would be. From the tree.

He stepped back to admire his handiwork, took some photographs of his bound slave:

- You asked for this. You told me I'd have to beat you before you admitted to your disobediences. Want to tell me now and save yourself a lot of pain?

She knew his need. And her own. Her cunt was awash.

- Beat me senseless. I won't tell you.

- I love a challenge.

He stripped. She'd never seen his erection so huge. It had been months since they'd fucked, longer since he'd seriously abused her. He drew the heavy leather belt from his shorts, hefted it. Stood before her, cock dribbling. The belt slapped her tits lightly, as he explored his range and stroke.

Then it began. Thuddy punishment. Shoulders, upper arms. He was being careful.

- Tell me. It'll hurt more where it won't show tomorrow.

She shook her head. Didn't know why she wanted this, but she did.

On her tits now, all round them, then directly on her nipples. Excruciating pain.

- Tell me slave. I'll brook no disobedience.

- No. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

He smiled. A most delicious scream:

- You're going to orgasm to the leather tonight darling.

- No... fuckjesusandmary...

He was striking her flanks now, then her belly. She watched his excitement growing through her tears. He'd almost lost it. She'd need long tshirts for a few days, the weals would show on her. Her impossible arousal grew as the lashes sought lower. Then the hardest yet on her cunt. She'd have crumpled in pain if the ropes hadn't held her up:

- Not... Fucking... Telling you...

The tears were dripping on her beautiful inflamed tits. He shifted position. Oh fuck, underhand blows now, belt swinging up to caress her cunt... His strikes weren't as forceful from below. But the leather bit her clit every time. Cunt adored by leather. Lashing lovestrikes. She felt it rising in her. Felt his eyes on hers in the pauses between aiming and striking. They understood each other so well in their unholy love. She'd orgasm to the leather. He stopped striking her, picked up his camera. Everything recorded. Put it down and felt her cunt. Wiped wet fingers over her face:

- I think this will be the first time you've orgasmed to leather?

- Not telling you anything. Even a slave has secrets.

- Maybe your cunt, my cunt, needs the buckle end?

She flinched. Only once before, when he was out of his mind, had her cunt felt the bite of the buckle.

- You won't be able to fuck your cunt if you do that.

He shrugged:

- You have other holes.

But his eyes wavered. She'd got through to him:

- Your cunt needs leather master, not steel.

- Leather my cunt will get.

Carefully-placed strokes. He watched her eyes rolling up, the flush spreading down, face, neck, tits. Leather teasing her cunt, his cunt.

She exploded.

He knelt and breathed her stink. Lapped into her. Tugged her clit with his teeth, fingers seeking her abused nipples. She buckled against the restraints: another most beautiful orgasm. He untied her, took her in his arms:

- My sweet slave. I love you beyond words.

She couldn't ever remember a kiss as sweet, felt him wet and hard against her belly. She drew back, smiled at him in her post-orgasmic beauty:

- As I love you darling.

- Tell me now sweetness. Your disobediences?

She twisted from him, drew back:

- I told you. You have to beat the admissions from me.

He was amazed by her thrawnness. Grabbed her hair, dragged her to the horizontal branch. Lifted her onto it. She didn't resist. Tied her, wrists to ankles, legs wide apart, on her belly. Then secured each wrist/ankle combination with long steel tentpegs, at an angle so her movements couldn't rip them out. There was just enough light left to do it without the torch. Her arse and cunt were splayed open for him. Her limbs just touched the ground: the weight on the branch.

- Tell me. Please.

She smiled through her discomfort. 'Please' meant he was getting uneasy.

- Fuck off. I love you but you're no master.

He cracked. No longer cared about the consequences of his actions. Jesus, she'd have it now. A bottomless pit indeed. The leather slashed her as he moved round the branch. Shoulders, back, flanks, arse, a lattice of red weals rising. But he couldn't take it any more. He knelt and licked, cunt and arse open for him, absorbing the her-ness he adored. He had to fuck, animal need screaming through his body.

No preliminaries. He dragged her helpless arse-cheeks wide and thrust into her greasiness. Reached over and grabbed her dangling hair, wrenched her head up as far as the restraints allowed:

- I... fucking... love you... darling...

As his spunk surged in her, he knew the writhings and sounds of her orgasm.

He needed the head-torch to free her:

- For fuck's sake, tell me now.

- Nope. Not telling.

- We'll have to come back then, won't we?

- Tomorrow?