Blindfold

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She's blindfolded and not allowed to speak.
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The blindfold slips over her eyes and her breath quickens. She closes her eyes as he tightens it to not let in any light or have the fabric against her eyes. Without her sight, she's unanchored in the room, directionally disoriented. Her breath hitches in excitement. She likes being adrift, with him her North Star in endless night. He touches the side of her neck, gently, gently, and she leans her head into his hand.

It's impossible to respond in any other way: her hands are cuffed in front of her and she's kneeling naked on the floor. She's been told not to speak, which is as effective a gag as anything actually blocking her mouth. She'll do exactly as he asks, because she likes how that feels. His hand leaves her neck, and she kneels there in an endless shapeless pause. Her ears try to discern his movements, and her eyes blindly follow where she supposes him to be. The bedroom is filled with the scent of his deodorant, his aftershave, and her own rising arousal.

A soft step to the side, and then the softest of touches, tracing along her collar bone. He's always liked her collar bone. Too light and cool to be his fingers, it traces her collarbone out to her shoulder and down the outer curve of her arm. As the object - a feather, she's fairly sure now - strokes down her wrist, flicks over to caress the sensitive pulse point, then traces across the handcuffs, causing them to shift infinitesimally on her wrists. He runs the feather up her other arm, then down the outer curve of her waist. He limns her in light touches before stroking the feather down her sternum and tracing the curve of her breast in diminishing spirals until the very tip flicks delicately over her peaked nipple. A gasp boils up in her throat, but she bites her lip to keep it in. No noise. The sound rattles around inside her, intensifying every other sensation. She shivers.

He chuckles, a low rich sound, and turns his attentions to the other breast. He outlines her side, the curve of her hip, down to where her knee touches the wood floor. Then up the front of her thigh, making the muscles there quiver as he passes close, so close, to where she wants his attention now. Everything is achingly slow. She can feel his warm exhalations on her cheek from where he kneels in front of her, close enough to touch if she were permitted. She's not, so she holds herself still and shivers. He traces the outer curve of her arm down, the point of the feather now on her abdomen, then on the smoothly shaved skin lower, taunting her. He traces the outline of her labia, and her breath comes faster. She doesn't want this light sensation, she wants him, taking her hard and fast and letting her shatter around him. The wanting rises up uncontrollably fast, manifesting itself as a small high noise in her throat.

The feather pauses, falls away. She freezes, dreading and anticipating his reaction. Maybe he hasn't noticed her make noise? But he always does, and she knows he has this time when he grips her hair just hard enough to start to hurt. "Do you know what's going to happen now, pet?"

Her breath ratchets up, and her lungs refuse to draw air properly. She can feel her slick arousal dampening her inner thighs. "You'll punish me, sir, for making noise when you told me not to."

"Correct." He kisses her hard. Her surrender is almost a physical thing flowing from her to him. He doesn't want her controlling herself anymore: it's his, all his, and she melts into him at the relief and freedom of it. He bites her lip, and she shivers at the sensation. Her cuffed hands are trapped between their bodies, or she'd be running them over every inch of him she could reach.

He grips her nipple abruptly, twists it just past the point of pain, and she moans into his mouth. Her spine arches toward him to bring her breasts more to his attention without any conscious thought. He releases her nipple and her hair and stands abruptly, the passage of cool air in his wake leaving her feeling bereft until he yanks sharply on the chain connecting her cuffs. She follows him on her knees until she bumps into something hard and wooden - the table. She stands, and he tugs lightly until she bends over, her arms resting on the table, ass in the air.

He leaves her that way for a moment. The moment stretches until she hears his bare feet, nearly silent on the wood, approaching her from behind. She twitches involuntarily in anticipation. The characteristic whoosh of the paddle with the slot in it fills the air, and then her ass is on fire. "Oh!"

Each subsequent stroke draws gasping cries from her. The pain drives out conscious thought, leaving dark clear space where everything is okay. Tears streak down her face at the fifth blow, and she moans. The blows heat her buttocks and send that heat spiraling all through her. She can smell his arousal now. He continues until she's nearly wild, needing some peak, some pinnacle to her torment so that she can come.

At ten, he stops, bends over her, and whispers heatedly in her ear, "Do you want me in you now?"

She shudders beneath him and nods frantically. "Yes. Yes, please. Oh, please."

The faint crinkling of cellophane reaches her ears, a nearly sensual stroke on its own because she knows what it means. An insistent nudge at the entrance of her dripping sex and she arches back towards him. He slides in on one smooth long thrust, and she spasms around him. He slides out, thrusts in hard, and her world shatters. The blindfold still pressing lightly on her lids, the sensations, the discipline, the sensitized skin of her ass smacking against his hips, all spiral inside her and tauten, drawing tension like a bowstring up the center of body until it breaks. She comes hard around him, clamping down on him with slick inner muscles.

He rocks in her, unrelenting, riding her through her orgasm. He takes her quick and hard until he's shuddering over her and his cock is twitching inside her and then he braces himself, spent, on the edge of the table.

After a moment he throws away the condom and unlocks her cuffs, cuing the end of their scene. She leans against him, making a happy noise in her throat, and doesn't bother to take off the blindfold. He leads her to the bed, and they lie down together, entwined.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 13 years ago
wow...

at first I was going to say...I may as well quit wrting cuz this...is as good as it gets! but P.K. ... instead I am inspired...inspired by you heat & passion to write what I feel...unedited! Congrats on one of the hotten pieces I have ever read.

signed Kate, of AGWC

your partener on "Snow White"

wow!

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