Don't Play With Me

I let myself in, as I usually do; you gave me a key. I can hear you in the kitchen, you probably got started on dinner for us, because you're thoughtful that way. Walking up behind you, I run my hands all over your fine ass in their perfectly fitting jeans, while biting the sweet spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Walk my fingers across your lower stomach, while wrapping a leg around yours from behind, so that when your hand drops to the top of my thigh, you can feel the garter clip & know what's going on underneath my skirt. Pull my leg back once I know you've felt the clip. A little teasing is good for you, you know. Keeps the blood pumping.

I distract you for the moment by running my hand back across your lower stomach, but this time trailing a finger inside the waistband of your jeans. I can feel the muscles that lead to your groin twitch; I know what's happening in there; they're all waking up on high alert, and your cock will be getting hard in our pants. Doing my level best to grind my pelvis on your ass, I dodge your hands reaching behind you to grab me. Laughing as I slip out from your grip.

I've got a hand on your hip as I move behind you. That's my mistake. Suddenly your left hand snaps to your hip, and you have my left wrist in your left hand. I'm trying to pull free, but you have a good grip. I relax and stop fighting; I need to think about how to work free, but then you start to turn. Passing my wrist from your left to your right hand as you turn, so you can keep a solid grip on me. I try to take advantage of the weakening of the grip as you pass me from one hand to the other, but you're wise to the game. You squeeze with your right to let me know you've got me. It hurts for just a second before you loosen your grip fractionally; a warning.

You put my left hand into the small of my back, my wrist still gripped tight in your fist, and bend to whisper in my ear "my turn". I go very, very still. The combination of your warm breath in my ear, your extreme closeness, and the slight aura of menace makes my nerves hum and my nipples pucker. I'm getting a little wet, I can feel it.

With my wrist in your hand still in the small of my back, you step toward me, which pushes me back. Step after step, I'm being steered backwards. I can only see where I've been, and the look in your eyes is so intense I can't bring myself to look away and try to turn around.

Your eyes flick over my shoulder to look at something. With the eye contact broken, I try to turn my head to see what happening & where we are. The slight movement gets your attention; your left hand grips my face, forcing my attention squarely back on you. You don't say anything, just shake your head. The rush of adrenaline I get in the moment causes my vision to blur at the edges a little. My attention is immovably fixed on your eyes, and the look they hold.

Another few steps back, and my heel bumps into something, a low platform. You push me back, so that I step up. I suspected when I first bumped the wood with my heel, but the feeling against my back confirms it. I'm up against the St. Andrew's Cross. I've clearly awoken the ferocity in you; this won't be easy...

Being up on the platform means it's easier to look into your eyes, but it also makes me feel like I'm pinned in place by the intensity of your direct gaze. And platform or no, I still have to look up at you.

More threatening than any shout or snarl could be, you lean in and speak softly next to my ear: "In ten seconds you will be attached to that cross. If your shirt, skirt and bra aren't off by then, I won't be responsible for how they're removed from you body after that. If you want to wear those clothes ever again, they come off now." Adrenaline crashes through me like a drug in my veins, and my legs start to shudder under me, but I don't have time to indulge in a fear response. I manage to get my shirt over my head and my skirt unzipped, throwing them to the floor next to the platform. When my fingers can't manage the clasp of my bra, you reach around my body and unsnap it for me. As I slide it down my arms, I whisper "Th-thank you", and it joins the rest of my clothes in the floor.

First my right wrist, then my left wrist is secured in the cuffs on the Cross. I'm still facing outward, but as you've had to step up onto the platform to fasten the cuffs, I have to tip my face up to look into your eyes. The cuffs hold me up, and the knowledge that I can't move serves to quiet some of my shaking. Flight is not an option. Fight is futile. Acceptance is all there is left. You step back and down off the platform. I'm in panties, over a garter belt and stockings, black heels, and nothing else.

You stand there, looking at me for what could be an eternity or thirty seconds. Time becomes a concept for other people. You run your fingertips from my collarbone straight down over the slope of breast to my nipple, which you grip and twist gently between two fingertips. Then the same on the other side, a little harder. A small whine escapes the back of my throat, and you look at me with a finger to your lips. "Sssshh."

As you stroke your hands down either side of my ribcage, you lean in and softly kiss the corner of my mouth. That whole side of my face blossoms with the heat of that touch. Your fingers reach my hips, and you gently run a finger along my lower abdomen, inside the waistband of my panties, mimicking what I did earlier to you.

You run your finger the other way, a little bit lower, and my pelvis tilts of its own accord, reaching for the finger. You withdraw your hand before contact can be made by my greedy pussy, but run a fingernail up my slit, on the outside of my panties. The sensation of the nail trailing up sets every nerve in my body on fire. I can't help but start making noises in the back of my throat, whimpering my need.

You slap my cheek with an open hand, lightly. No harm, no venom. Just a sharp reminder. I quiet immediately. You trail the backs of your fingers over that same cheek, and I turn my face into your hand.

Your fingers go back to the waistband of my panties, but this time you hook your fingers in on either side. You know that I wear my lingerie the 'right ' way. Garter belt & stockings first, panties on over top. You slide my panties down my legs, leaving the stockings intact on my legs. I step out, and the panties join the rest of my clothes in the pile on the floor.

Again, you step back and...just look. My body can't decide if it feels hot or cold. Desperate to remain quiet, as ordered, I struggle to control my breathing, to slow it down. You smile a little; you can see my struggle. Your hand reaches out to cup my pussy, the lips fitting into your palm and your fingertips skating over the opening. I grit my teeth against sound, and your voice caresses my ear, "you're so wet for me, baby." I nod quickly, desperate to communicate my need in whatever manner possible.

You reach up, and unclip the cuffs from the cross, before turning me around and reattaching them. I'm now facing the cross, with my back to you. I know you have all your implements nicely arrayed in the wall, but before I can take inventory and see if you've taken anything down already, a blindfold slides over my eyes.

Now I hear every movement in sharp detail, but the adrenaline and the sound of my heart beating distort things just enough that I can't quite identify what's happening as you move around behind me. I suddenly feel warmth down my left side; you're standing right next to me, and your body is like the sun, warming the side of me closest to you. You run your fingernails down my spine, and I arch my back in pleasure, my bottom pushing out as you reach the small of my back. My nerves are still tingling from that sensation as your hand cracks hard across my bottom.

My eyes snap open under the blindfold, but all I get is inky dark. Again, your hand cracks down, on the other side of my bottom. You do this for a while, alternating sides, sometimes harder, sometimes softer. I get into the rhythm; it's almost like a painful dance. I feel the blood rushing into the area, and my skin heats up. Again, like the sweetest caress, the warmth of your breath skates across my ear: "You're so pink, baby, and we're not done yet. "

You step away, and I relax into the cuffs, letting them hold me up as I sink into the feelings in my body. I'm listening for your movements, but between the cuffs and the blindfold, I have no control. I can only let the sounds wash over me without analysis or examination, like the sea.

The rush of something cutting through the air suddenly begins, and the swirling impact of the flogger hits me. All the pink and tender places on my bottom tingle and twitch, as they come to terms with the new feeling. The flogger kisses more of my body, catching my upper thighs and the middle of my back. My skin feels so alive, and every time the flogger makes contact, alarm bells of sensation are going going off. It's like a stinging rain, a hailstorm in the summer. Like a summer storm, it stops as suddenly as it began. I can hear air moving, and my heart beating. With my cheek against the cross, I can smell the sweet goodness of wood and my shampoo, magnified by the heat radiating from my body.

The heat of the sun is back; you're right there, standing behind me, the full length of your body pressed against mine. Your jeans are still on, but you're shirtless. The sensation of your torso on my back, all warm skin and silky hair, is the most completely perfect thing I have ever felt. Somehow, you manage to be comfort and menace, all in one.

You run your nails over my pink and tender bottom as you begin to speak: "You seemed to be having a awful lot of fun earlier. " I nod. "You seemed to think I was a good person to tease. To wiggle your body at me, and then snatch it away." I go still. His voice is all silky menace. I can't think of an answer that won't make it worse. "Am I a puppy that you play with? Answer me." I shake my head, words withering in my mouth. "Am I a child, that you play childish playground games with me?" I don't want to say anything to make it worse, but when you grab my ass, and dig your nails in, I shake my head again.

"That was a childish game." you say. "And childish games should have childish consequences." You're never casual or idle in your comments. I'm missing something here. It's a hint. "Children who misbehaved used to get the belt. I think that's an appropriate consequence here, don't you?" Shitshitshitshit. The belt. Lines of fire, the crack of the impact tells you exactly how much it hurts. I don't say anything. I can't. My mouth is dry, and my breath is gone. "Do. You. Think. That's. An. Appropriate. Consequence?" I nod, once. It's enough.

"Ten. Count them. "

I count each one out, breathing through the sting. You hit hard enough to make a point, but I can feel the care behind it. Even as it hurts, there's no venom, no malice here. It skates the line skilfully between pain for pleasure and pain for pain's sake.

After I count out the tenth, you stop. Everything stops. My world has shrunk behind the blindfold to the wave-like quality of the pain in each stroke, crashing over me then rolling back into the depths, only to crash again a few moments later.

As the cumulative sting gives way to a deep burning, you surround me again. Your hands over mine, as your fingers unbuckle the cuffs. I turn to you, and wrap my arms around your neck. You gather me into your arms and carry me to an armchair, where we sit together while my legs stop shaking and my brain reconnects to the world around us.

I open my eyes, and push off the blindfold to smile at you. The aftermath of that experience has made me cat-like, all heavy limbs and soft muscles. I nuzzle my face into the side of your neck, breathing in deep the smell of your skin and sweat. It's the smell of everything I've ever wanted.

You, though, are still carrying the tension of the exchange, in your shoulders, your neck and your arms. That won't do at all. I stand, take your hand, and lead you to your bed. I have you take off your jeans and underpants and lie down, while I retrieve massage oil from my bag. Still in only my garter belt and stockings, I kick off my shoes and straddle your body, sitting on your bottom. I warm some oil in my palms, and begin to massage the tension out of your shoulders and back.

You took such good care of my body, now I want to take care of yours. I massage all the way up and down your back; I knead your arms, and work the muscles in your neck. I can feel your body relax under my hands; it's such a pleasure to do this for you. As I'm doing this, my pelvis is tipping back and forth against your ass, massaging it with my pussy. We both can feel it. And as good as this massage feels to you, there's unfinished business here.

You tip your body to one side, dumping me onto your bed, and move to cover my body with your own. You kiss me, deeply this time, and we take a moment to enjoy that feeling of lips and tongues, twisting together, touching and tasting.

You kneel up, and I follow you, sitting up. With this change of position, you kneeling between my thighs, I can keep kissing you, but also stroke your cock while I'm doing so. One hand sliding up the shaft, to stroke with fingertips all around the crown, while the other cups and strokes your balls. A drop of pre-cum seeps out, and I use it to lubricate the tip as I continue to stroke your cock.

You reach down and grab my ankles, lifting them up and tipping me back on the bed. You place one ankle on each shoulder, giving you free and clear access to my pussy, while also allowing you to stroke my legs in their stockings at the same time. You lean forward, and in one smooth movement, slide deep inside me, not stopping until you can go no further. You start sliding in and out, gently and smoothly at first, but getting harder and rougher as the sensations get deeper.

As you run your hands up and down my thighs, you're thrusting into me faster and faster. I take my ankles off your shoulders, and we roll over, so I'm on top. As I ride you, you alternately stroke my thighs and pinch my nipples. I tip my pelvis so that you're hitting my G-spot in just the way I need you to. We continue like this, getting faster and deeper, until finally the tension builds to a breaking point. The constant stimulation of my G-spot causes me to have my own gushing climax, soaking you and the sheets in either side of you. Meanwhile you cum hard inside me, fingers digging into my hips. In addition to the marks across my bottom, I'll have your fingers prints on my hips, marking the spot where you held me so tight.

I collapse onto your chest, and we drift to sleep in a tangle of exhausted limbs. Having fucked each other, mind and body, I don't have anything left to give, and neither do you. All we have left is the memory of our rolling bodies, and that memory rocks us to sleep.