A Place to Stay

I nodded, but my eyes stayed cemented on the slow slither of leather through her pant loops. She pulled the belt out and, once again, twisted it between her hands.

"I share your faith, sweet pea. That's the reason you've got your fire, your bed, your roof. I believe in the kindness of strangers, and I could tell the moment I heard your angel's voice that you are as kind as you are strange."

She could fit both of my wrists in the palm of her hand. As gentle as such a process could be done, she tied my wrists together with her belt.

"That's how I know that you're gonna be good to my faith, too."

The binds were snug, but livable. Her expert hand ensured that I wouldn't escape them, not that I would have tried. The ties were my escape; they rescued me from every danger and worry that lurked, peering perversely through the windows to see me free. I smiled at her as she tugged up on my lead to seat me upright. Lola, my liberator. My hero. Why would I ever run from someone who loved me like she did?

She let the smooth leather glide through her fingers as she stepped back to drink in the sight of me: perfect, precious, waiting. She had me waiting just for her, and for the thumb circling slow around the button of her pants. I was clawing at my thigh for it, digging my heels into the mattress for it, begging with my prettiest eyes for it. All the time it matched my stare, and endured. I could feel Lola's gaze envelop me as her slow circles dragged me deeper and deeper into hypnosis. The world was her and me and that stubborn button; the rest was noise, fading out.

She could've kept me there for hours. Trapped in the thick of the anticipation, it felt like she had. In reality though, Lola was far too merciful, or maybe she was just as eager as I was to see what would happen next. The immovable button slipped with ease through the hole, and Lola's pants cascaded down her hips to reveal the defined musculature of her tree trunk legs. She lifted their roots from the floor once and twice and climbed onto the bed. With one of her gentle giant hands, she held my bound wrists down in my lap and sat atop them, resting her trunks on either side of me. Pinned between my hips and hers, my hands were rendered immobile, useless except to check the dampening of the faded floral prints she was wearing. Lola adjusted herself, cooing as she moved against my captive hands, and began to go for the buttons of her shirt.

Pop after pop brought me the same wonder I had felt when her pants had come off. Glorious sunlight was breaking through the clouds, button by button, until finally her bare breasts were heaving inches from my face. I gawked at them for a long while, then my senses and manners crashed back into the forefront of my mind. I gazed up at Lola, tilting my head as far back as I could to see the full amusement of her face.

After a few attempts, I managed to ask, "may I kiss them? Please?"

I felt the warmth gleam off of her firelit smile. She cupped her hand behind my head and brought me into her chest, guiding me to the nipple on her left breast. It must have surprised her when my lips brushed up on her skin and revealed the rabid drooling she had caused; I registered the slightest tensing of her fingers in my hair and a small shiver through the coating of saliva. I pinched my lips down against her nipple, awestruck by the notion that my touch could have an effect on this powerful figure. Sure enough, as I gnawed softly on her, the shivers continued. I held them in my mouth, and they held me in hand, between thighs, under appreciative vulva.

Then the belt tightened around my neck once more, forcing me to follow its lead to Lola's other breast. She kept a steady hold on it this time, rationing my air as I adorned her breast with rows and rows of kisses. I thought the affection would placate her, but the gradual cinching only intensified, until my mouth was gasping useless against her flesh. My struggles became blatant; my fingers curled and clenched as much as they could beneath her, but their panicked movements seemed to only please her more. She started moving her hips against them, letting the writhing fingers tease her over her underwear.

Lola sang her pleasure alone; I had no air left to make a sound.

The belt beckoned me upward now, relenting just enough to let me inhale. Lola stared down at me, devoid of a smile.

She warned, "if that's the longest you can hold your breath for, you're gonna have a rough time with what I use you for next."

Back I went to her breast. My tongue painted diligent circles around her nipple, moving fervorously to regain her favor. The last thing I wanted was another wave of suffocation to pull me under, which meant keeping my keeper as happy as possible. It meant curling my fingers on purpose now, stroking the fabric that had only gotten wetter as my suffering had continued. Her noise came out only as rhythmic grunts, but the resumed grinding of her hips affirmed my stroking. I pursed my lips around her nipple and sucked hard; my fingers pushed back against the sopping mess in a hopeless effort to feel what lay beneath. Just one touch, just a glancing brush of her wet skin, I would die for any of it.

Lola raised her hips. I got out a pained "no" before my words were cut off again. I found myself caught beneath the wave of suffocation, gazing up pitifully as Lola rose taller and further above me. While I choked, she caught her breath, panting and grinning at the same time. She rolled over and sprawled on her back, then pulled my leash to bring me over to her. My bound hands were practically useless as I shimmied like a worm to her side. I tried snuggling back into the crease of her arm, but she tugged down on my leash and made her wishes known.

"Reward me, sweet pea," she whispered, breath still heavy.

Her free hand reached down ahead of me and peeled off the tarnished underwear. Her other hand continued to lead, slower now so as to permit my trailing kisses along her stomach.

Each prolonged peck planted a silent prayer in her flesh.

"I want you, Lola."

"I want to make you happy, Lola."

"I want to please you, Lola."

"I want to know what you taste like, Lola."

"I want to know what your convulsions taste like, Lola."

"I want to know what you taste like when you..."

I was back on the outskirts of the forest, lips twitching a hair's breadth from the dark hairs twirling out every which way. In that moment of hesitation, I finally noticed that Lola's body had stiffened completely, hanging on the edge of a grand release. She longed for the one touch, the glancing brush just as badly as I did. It would've been easy for her to pull me down and take it from me, but the belt never cinched around my neck. Lola let me draw it out, subjecting herself to torture by anticipation the same way she subjected me.

I scrambled gracelessly over her leg into the space she had made for me between her thighs. My eyes locked with hers and saw that, for these few fleeting seconds at least, we were on equal ground. The lust was boiling over in both of us, the tips of our tongues weighed down with desperate words we refused to admit. I knew she saw what I saw because she broke into a laugh and rested her head back on the pillow. My eyes traveled down her body, over the instability of her abdomen, and by the time I reached the beautiful sight of her shining vulva I was under her spell again.

It was more than a glancing brush. It was an arrow sunk deep into the heart of a tree, bursting through in a plume of splinters. My mouth against her wet lips was a seismic event that rattled through Lola's frame to the point where she had steady herself with a heavy leg laid across my back. I was pinned in place now, my bound arms useless to resist the weight of just one of her limbs. Even if I had tried to resist, Lola still had her hand on my lead and a clear willingness to use it against me. This predicament had been constructed to leave me only one way out: her way. This is how she wanted it; this is how she wanted me.

I wondered if she could feel my smile curling against her flesh.

"Oh, you're an angel," she murmured, either to me or to the tongue now inching its way along the pink folds of her vulva.

At the first real taste of her, my cheeks flared with hot, rushing blood. Her wetness submerged my every taste bud and flooded me with a dulcet flavor that seemed to tingle with its own life. The slow crawl upward allowed me to live in it, to let it in my mouth and down my throat and up into my brain where flowers grew out of the puddles it formed. My cheeks burned hotter as I reached the small nerve bundle at the top of her vulva and felt the world shake around me. The belt tightened around my neck again, but I knew it was a sign of deep approval from my host.

Her joy was my joy. The tongue tip grazing along the remotest atoms of her clitoris was my way of galvanizing that joy. Beneath her trembling leg, it churned molten inside me. The heat of it made me sweat, made me work with fervent pace like an engine bursting with steam. Lola's voice came through in waves as the writhing of her thighs pressed into and off of my ears. Whenever I was blessed enough to hear a gasp, a sigh, a stretching moan paired with the sound and sensation of croaking leather, it provoked me further. I pushed my tongue flat against her vulva and lapped, lapped, lapped. I chose licking over breathing to the point where I barely noticed when my lead would tighten. All that mattered was Lola's joy. Our joy.

When Lola found me, I was frozen and exhausted. Her body brought me warmth and her spirit brought me energy, but I hadn't accounted for the energy her body would demand in return. The more her moans and convulsions provoked me, the more I expended to keep her satisfied. The tight twirls around her clit strained my tongue; the pressing and pursing of my lips withered the muscles in my jaw. Lola's strength had imbued me with awe and love, but the price it commanded was met with weakness on my part. I was struggling to fight the physical toll of my servitude while pushing back against the nagging, proliferating doubt that I was not enough for her.

Lola caught me pausing. It was only for a second, just a blink of a moment where I could catch my breath and continue to please her. In that moment though, my weakness was exposed. She could feel her servant failing her, and the sharp yank of my lead heralded her disapproval.

"I would've thought a young thing like you would have a little more zeal than that," she admonished. "You don't wanna get thrown back out into the cold, now do you?"

Bound hands clutching at the belt around my neck, I desperately shook my head in the negative. She was threatening me with death, so soon after gifting me life. My eyes were nearly tearing as they pleaded with the glowering eyes that matched them. Lola released the lead, and I collapsed against her leg. She pulled the other leg from off my back and nudged me harshly to the side. I lay there in shambles, panting as she stood from the bed and returned to the row of belts on the wall. The one she selected was particularly weathered; its poor condition was quickly explained when Lola unleashed a startling crack against the bed. Even though the blanket wasn't made of skin, I could've sworn I heard it scream in pain. Or maybe it was just me.

"I would really love to cum tonight," Lola told me. "You want that same thing because, trust me, you won't enjoy the alternative."

The world beneath me trembled as Lola climbed back onto the bed. With just one hand, she grabbed me by the thigh and spun me around so my butt was directly in her warpath.

I cried out, "Lola please, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be sorry, sweet pea. Just be better."

Scared as I was, I couldn't stop the blissful moan that came when she dug her fingers into my fleshy backside. Undoubtedly, this was the prelude to a well-deserved beating, but I still knew no better heaven than the one under her thumb. My body belonged beneath her, and as she continued to squeeze and massage my ass, tranquility washed over me again.

That was Lola's intention.

"Ow, God!"

A thunderous sound and a thundering pain. Tranquility desertified, agony bubbling up through the parched cracks. Lola gave me little time to dwell on it; she resumed her original position and pulled my lead so my head was nearly upside down between her thighs. It was not a comfortable position: my forearms were pressed against her stomach, my knees were planted in the bed, my ass was precariously vulnerable up in the air. To cement my understanding, Lola brushed the coarse leather against the red mark, still smoldering. I was within range, and if she caught me slacking, she would reignite my enthusiasm without mercy.

I didn't wait for a signal. The wetness welcomed me as I dove back in, my lips groping about as I labored to reclaim my bearings. I grabbed onto anything, everything I could; the savage smacking sound of my mouth on her vulva filled me with a revolted shame. I was eating the way an animal eats, reduced to brutality and mindlessness. Every fanatical kiss sloshed more of the sloppy mess across my face. It spelled out Lola's claim to me, and overwrote any claim I had to myself.

Lola loved her mindless animal. I could hear the joy returning to her voice; squeals and wails of ecstasy erupted with the same mania with which I served her. That was all it took to dissolve the shame in my gut. Lola loved my unbridled messiness, my most zealous worship. My lips popped loudly off of her folds, and I licked them clean with a giggle. The sword of Damocles was hardly necessary at this point; the adrenaline borne from the fear of punishment paled in comparison to the rush I felt hearing Lola sing.

Evidently, she disagreed, and my spirited rounding of her clit was halted with the sudden crack of the belt against my skin. I screamed again, to which she laughed and seamlessly shifted that laughter into an order to resume. My whole body was quivering, tongue included. I was terrified at the thought that the next hit might cause my jaw to snap shut and sever it.

Fearful adrenaline turned out to be a much more powerful motivator than I had originally estimated. Once more, I found myself choosing licking over breathing, but it was no longer my choice to make. Every time I opened my mouth, I drowned in Lola again. The lead ensured I wouldn't be able to pull away for air; even if I could have, the other belt in Lola's hands would sour that precious air into pained wails. My savior had grown impatient with me, and now she demanded repentance for it. My whimpers threaded themselves through the sizzling slurp sounds against her flesh, desperate to appease her need for my suffering. I wanted to make myself pathetic for her, an object fit for pity. Her pity was how I had survived before, and I wasn't sure I knew how to survive without it.

Lola was unmoved. In fact, the only part of her that moved was her thick leg, curling around the back of my neck to smother me against her pussy. My hands still bound and pinned, there was no way for me to pull myself from the prison she locked me in. No amount of impotent thrashing could phase Lola; calm as the still night outside the cabin, she coiled tighter. Tighter. Tight enough to fracture my skull into pieces, to turn me into a mess worse than the one I wore across my scarlet face.

From the brink of my coveted, ultimate slumber, Lola grabbed my lead and pulled me from between her thighs. I found myself laid out on my back, sucking wind beside the woman who had rescued me from drowning. Once again, I owed Lola my life. Her fingers snared themselves in my matted hair as she swung a big leg off to the side of my head. Her scent resumed within the breaths I pulled into my shriveled lungs, growing ever stronger as she began to lower. There was no resistance from me. Down Lola came to take with authority what was owed to her.

Muffled, I heard her lament, "I was gonna be so sweet to you, darlin'. I didn't wanna have to do this to that pretty face of yours."

But she did it anyway.

Close as I was to her - practically unified into a singular organism, at this point - I found myself slipping far away. My mind was going, I could feel it. Empathy was absent within the force of her raging hips; my survival was tertiary to her lust for satisfaction and her edict for proper retribution from my failure. The emotion laced in her physicality pushed me down further and further until the bottom fell out, and I was gone.

It was all instinct at that point, and my instinct said, "serve." My mouth continued to push back against the pulverizing vulva, offering a plush cushion as my desecration progressed. Behind that, however, was nothing. The vacuous space where my brain typically worked and overworked filled me with weightlessness. I was adrift in the void now, floating along an endless river. It was frightening at first, but then the warmth of the nothingness began to blanket itself around me. It was a luxury to not have to think, to be totally free from worry. I had spent the whole night worrying, but now...

Nothing.

I couldn't feel tired. I couldn't feel cold. I couldn't feel anything beyond the warm embrace of this strange new plane of existence. Somewhere outside the outer limits of this dark place, Lola was moaning. Finally, she was getting the pleasure she deserved. No, she was taking it. She could take it all from me, I didn't need anything now.

I was home.

"That's it, sweet pea," Lola cooed. "Give in to me. Be my angel. Be my slave."

The scene in the bedroom must have been apocalyptic. Lola must have been gleaming golden as the sweat sticking to her skin snatched the firelight out of the air. The music of creaky wooden bed frames and Lola's ardent, flourishing cries must have swelled beyond the walls of the tiny cabin. The serenity of the winter wonderland outside must have been perforated with the stench and rage of sex. The whole world must have felt the nuclear energy that boiled and bubbled over as momentum took over for Lola. I could certainly feel it, despite the distance between my mind and our singular body.

The way the hips moved against the mouth told me her mind was going, too. Rhythm was fissuring into discord. Pleasure usurped rationality to seize the reins of the singular body and pilot it toward the blazing Sun. I wondered if I would find Lola on the endless river, or if there was a different place for people like her to drift away to. I wanted desperately to reach a hand out into the void to grab at everything and nothing and see what would grab back. A beautiful moment was coming, and I wanted to feel Lola closer than ever when it happened.

But we were so far away.

The body cried out as the hips bucked with punctuation. The legs cradled the head tightly on the last dot, and the singular body decelerated to a stop. The river, once endless, fed out to the drain and poured me back into my head. When I returned, my tongue was still dipping in and out of her as if to drink the entire ocean. Even when Lola returned to her body and rolled herself into a heap on the other side of the bed, my tongue continued to reach toward the sky. It refused to heed my call to rest, so conditioned now toward ceaseless diligence.

Lola, finally noticing that her toy had been left on, declared, "we're done."

My tongue slinked back into my mouth. I turned my head to look at her, glistening with fire the way I'd seen in my distant dreams. I couldn't tell what she saw when she looked at me. Neither of us spoke; we just stared and breathed. Eventually, Lola reached over to undo my belts. She hung them back on the wall, and then fished through the pockets of the jacket beside them. When she fell back into bed, she pinched her lips down on the end of another blunt and flicked on the flame of a smudged silver lighter. Once lit, Lola let her arms fall down to her sides and continued to breathe.