New Orleans

Before she can adjust to the feel, his thumb shoves its way inside her. Makes her squirm and squeal with the suddenness of its invasion. She can feel it pressing within her and just as she begins to move with it and against it, to try and take it further inside, he pulls away and swats her bare bottom. Hard and sharp. The sting brings tears to her eyes, though she steels herself not to cry. Another stinging slap. And another.

She braces herself for still another spank that never comes. As she takes a deep breath, though, his hand clasps her ankle, wraps a soft tie around it, strips off the thin piece of soaked silk and pulls it wide. Before she can properly struggle, the other ankle receives the same treatment and suddenly she is tied, spreadlegged, face to the door. Her mind reels. Fear and apprehension take over. She's panting heavily and about to panic when his thumb once more shoves itself in through her wetness, right to the hilt of his palm. She realizes how excited she is only when he pumps his hand back and forth, banging into her open, drenched lips, his palm smacking into her clit with every push. She squirms and struggles, openly throwing her reserves out. Her body forces moans and whimpers from her even as her mind cries out "No!"

She is separated; mind and body. Struggling to tell him no more, yet squirming in pleasure and inches from begging him for all of it. Her body is no longer hers. Traitor, it's gone over to his camp. He has become not just propietor, but sole owner of her reflexes and senses. He stopped his ministrations, but when, she can't say. She tries to look around when the leather strap lands across her buttocks. A clean snap directly over the middle of the mounds. The sound grabs her attention and she thinks there should be pain. A stinging sensation, at least. There is only the flooding in her groin and the trickle on her thighs.

She thinks if he reaches back and smacks her as hard as he can, there will be juices flying with every slap. Her ass will turn red and redder with every stroke, it might even blister, but the sensation of being hurt will be missing. It'll all be about the way she needs him to take her. The feel of his smooth hardness is poking into the side of her thigh and his heavy breathing makes her crave more blows and more contact. The gasps from his chest as he feels the leather connect with her flesh and hears her whimpers stabbing at his depths.

The spanking was over too soon. She had so little time to get used to the way she feels nothing but need and desire. Her pussy overflows with liquid and her thighs are cooling from the splattering. She can't believe he would stop when her moans are driving him on, but his hands grab her heated globes and push upward. Before she can cry out, his mouth grasps her stiff clit and sucks it in. The electricity jolts a scream from her.

His lips and tongue work over her hypersensitive nub until she can barely manage a babble of moans. Choking and gasping her pleasure, she tries to move her legs, adjust them to keep him from the very center of her being. From overpowering her. She can do little more than shift her hips and he easily keeps her from twisting out of his grasp with just his fingers digging in. She feels helpless. Worse, the more helpless she feels, the more apprehension, the more aroused she feels him getting. The more excited she is.

She can feel her sex open and grasping and she thinks she will cum if he only pushes his thumb back in or keeps sucking at her clit for just a second more. As the feeling grows and her climax nears, her legs shake as they never had before and her back arches. Her breasts ache, her head swims and a liquid glow spreads through her heart. She cries out in anguish when he stops. A gut wrenching cry. Her insides torn and shaking, her knees unable to keep her standing.

The bindings on her wrists hold her upright as she shakes and trembles. There is an ache that goes completely through her insides as the shivering subsides and her legs are barely kept from turning to water. She's never had such a feeling run through her body and she moans in desperation of more.

It's minutes or maybe hours before she realizes he's stopped all contact with her. There are tremors yet trickling their way out through her skin after spending themselves in waves upon her muscles. As the agony subsides, she can finally lift her head and gasp for air again. She wondered where he was and moved her head back and forth hoping to turn enough to see him.

"Are you back now?" His voice tickles at her ear and startles her so badly she lets out a shriek. At the same time his hand reaches around and pinches her nipple. Not hard enough to hurt, but more than enough to gain her full attention. Her knees shake at the sharp jolt.

She mouths without completing words. Tries to give sound to sensation, but all her attempts fall short. There's a whirlwind of color to tell him about, a myriad of noise to show him, yet she has only gasps and moans for his ears. He seems to understand, however, and to believe her.

"I won't make you tell me," he says. Then he lowers his voice to a whisper. "I'm going to take you. I'm going to enter your dripping hole and pound that sweet little pussy." His voice holds promise and menace in equal parts and she feels herself quiver. "Oh, but we have so far to go first." Her thighs shake and she knows she will cum if he but presses into her a little more.

There are jolts to her nerves. Stabs of sharp anguish where his fingers pinch or nip at sensitive places; her nipples, her inner elbows, her ribs, her clit. They are nothing to the delirious feelings his lips upon her neck give. They're playing along her muscles, singing and dancing on her skin. Her entire body becomes so enflamed that an orgasm now is out of the question. She's too far enrapt. His lips are at her hairline, his teeth pressing against the tender covering; now they're at her shoulders and his jaw presses into the delicate sinews.

And always, there is the feel of the wood on her chest, the chafing of bindings around her wrists, the discomfort of ties on her ankles. She wonders briefly what people will say if they notice the markings. Imagines herself exhbiting them proudly, looking to see who knows what they signify.

She only realizes that he's unbuttoned her blouse when the cool air breezes across the exposed areas. Her bra follows quickly behind, released and hanging open now, dangling on her arms. Her skirt still tucked in the waistband, the bare skin of her ass pimpled with goosebumps. She expects a pinch on her nipple (such an obvious object, standing hard and tall since meeting the open air), so the belt across the cheeks of her behind comes as a complete shock. She gasps so loud and hard, she thinks surely someone will hear and call the police. More excitement floods from her and she thinks she might dry up before she gets his hard length inside.

More swats follow that first. Four, five, six, she isn't certain how many, but the warmth that suffuses her begins and ends there, on her rear, and her mind is flooded when the breeze plays over the cheeks once again. She hears the rustling of clothing and imagines him undressing. She closes her eyes lightly in both hope and need. And she realizes that she wants him more than anything she's ever wanted before. At the same time, she wants more of this. She doesn't want it to end.

She feels the smooth hardness pressing up against her slit as she considers her chagrin that the sex act will signal the end of her ordeal. And delight. Such an exquisite pleasure for her never to have known! The feel of the bindings and the helplessness with the knowledge of his mastery and possession. His gentle, sweet touches and his brutally base grabs. The way he so easily strokes the very heart of her sensation. The way he claims her physical self with his fingers. She thinks of it all as over when he penetrates her. Consummates his taking of her. Yet does she want it more than she has ever thought she might need anything in her life.

She sighs and pushes into the staid pole. And receives a pinch. The one to her nipple she had braced for moments ago (or was it ages). This one takes her completely unaware and she screams. She cuts it off just as fast, not intending to and not wanting to give him more tools to use on her, the knowledge of how he touches her so deeply. With her squirming, the hardness between her legs jerks and pokes at her. She feels the moistness. Her moistness dripping from the smooth warm cover. She sighs into the sensation.

His fingers move onto her back and bring waves of delight. She hums with the motions he makes. Pokes and prods at the muscles, then soothes and strokes over the skin. She's moaning steadily as his palms roll circles over her flesh and the sides of his hands press the bulky points flat. His thumbs make tiny rings down the sides of her spine, then the fingertips make long runnels of pleasure back up across her ribs.

His pole becomes more insistent, toying with her outer labia and focusing all her attention to the steady drizzling of fluid coming from her inner self. She sees it as her core melting and flowing out her body to bathe his penis. Her mouth waters at the image and she wants nothing more than to take him between her lips and gorge herself. She pictures his moans, his cock growing harder and harder and his movements crescending until he loses all control. She gives a half conscious wriggle of her bared ass, feels the slip of her sopping wet center wrap and slide over his hard pole.

He jerks it away from her suddenly and swats her again. And again. And again. Until she feels the heat coming off her in blaring undulations. His lips trail up her back, move to the base of her neck and leave a trail of chilled flesh. As his lips nibble and scrapes of his teeth thrill her, he grabs handfuls of her ass muscles, lifts her hips and jabs into her. A fluid, sudden motion that makes her cry out with the feeling of beauty and mastery and the depth of connection! She feels a shuddering at her core that leaves her in trembles with each smooth stroke out and claimant joust in. He's taking her as his own.

She feels a blossoming inside her, a bubble pressing up to bursting, but with a huge yank, he lets her collapse into the door; open and grasping and leaking juices down her thighs. Her knees give out. Her wrists strain to hold her weight, her thigh muscles shake so furiously that she worries they might not stop. The spasms themselves threaten to force her to orgasm when he pinches her clit between his thumb and forefinger. Her breath leaves her with the rest of her strength and he presses against her back to keep her upright. She feels his hardness pulse with excitement and she imagines a droplet squeezing from the tip. She knows his need. Feels it like a palpable creature and her reaction to it threatens to overwhelm her.

Her arms begin to quiver from the strain and she has tears welling, filling her vision. His body presses closer, holding her to the door, on her feet by sheer force. She feels him reach along her arms, stroke the backs of her hands and she's suddenly released. Her arms float away upward and her legs lift from the floor. She's flying. Confused, she registers that, no, he's picked her up. He carries her to the bed as she lets her head loll onto his shoulder, sinks her cheek into his warm, firm chest.

The penetration is full and insistent. It fills her with liquid heat and spreading need. Radiates from her inner self in waves. Threatens to wash her away. She feels like a beach with the water moving inexorably toward her. A wave that washes up, replaced by another before the first has receded, but it's moved closer; and the next one comes even closer. He's thrusting and humping into her, shoving the waves before him. Her entire being ensnared with his pulsating member.

The wave closes in on her and begins to take her up. He stops. Now she grabs at him. Her reaction is near violent. She grabs and grunts, tries to get up and is held there by his body position. She hears her groans of frustration and can hardly believe they are from her. Growls and half roars of fury. She feels them in her chest and throat, but they come from far away. She pushes at his immutable leg, gets nowhere, then shoves with her forearms in his chest.

He holds her there. Knee between her legs, one hand under her hip, one on her shoulder. She doesn't feel a pressure and should be able to just throw him off, but her muscles won't work or he's too strong (and she thinks it's probably both). Finally she is gasping and drenched in the sweat of her exertion, collapsed before him.

"Are you going to PLEASE fuck me now?" She can't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She can't believe she is this close to begging. It doesn't matter to her how many times he'd told her he will have her beg, it was exciting to her to hear it from him even as she knew he could never bring her to it in reality. Her fantasies are many and wild, but truth is a bald and routine master.

"Oh?" His tone is lilting and teasing. "Are you tired of the foreplay? Have you gotten what you wanted?"

She is struck with a deep chord of truth in his voice. A shiver of bare reality that slips into her being. She feels a physical ache in her groin, fatigue in her joints, an edge of desperation in her psyche. She wants him to take her. Make her suffer all the things he's told her he will. She's afraid he will go too far. Maybe already has. She may lock up and be unable to cum or to do what he wants. Tears well up inside her again.

His voice is as soft, tender and sweet as his touch to her face. "I'm going to help you get what you need."

She struggles not to show how close to tears she is. "Sometimes if I can't finish I can't have an orgasm at all."

"We have time for you to relax and try again. I'm going to help you through this." His voice is soothing and she can feel the tremors relaxing.

His voice moves lower again and seems more threatening, "You're going to cum when you can beg for it. Now turn over or I will do it for you." His fingers are in her hair and she closes her eyes to the sensation, considering whether she will resist him or not. She decides to submit after debating his response. As she turns, she feels how thoroughly wet she is, her juices flowing out onto her thigh and a growing puddle beneath.

Trepidation fills her as she lies with her back to him. A vague sense of unease that makes her skin cringe. He secures her wrists, still tied together, to the head of the bed. His fingers move to her shoulders and press into the muscles bunched there as his knees separate her legs and hold her there. The feel of his hands massaging her back does little to assuage her fears, vague as they are.

The massage goes on, though, and she relaxes into it. She can't help herself. A warmth takes her over and spreads through her. He knows her, moves inside her with his fingers. They easily smooth aside the muscles and slip into her heart. She can feel her body calming on the surface, though an edginess remains deep within her. A blade of steel stuck far inside her softness. She feels the contrast like a mass of heated coals under a thin sand covering.

His hands are circling her back, forcing moans from her. Throaty groans of pleasure. Passionate growls. The fight squeezes out of her and leaves her aimless. Without will or desire for anything but him. His hands are as steady as the tide itself and continue their march to her bottom, the coals flaring as he moves closer. Each push of his wrists send coos of pleasure over her tongue and she writhes sinuously to tempt him.

The slap on her ass is hard and stinging. Burning places already tender from his belt. Before she can register the difference in his position, he has one of her legs and is tying it firmly to the foot of the bed. She makes a half hearted attempt to stop him from tying the other one, but knows this is a lost cause and submits without any real struggling.

She tests the bindings and finds them tight. Too tight. She feels him watching her and starts to turn her head when his hands take her by the cheeks and pull her forward onto his purpled head. Surprised, she can do little but swallow, then as her moans overwhelm her, she tries to lick and taste it. She wants it. Wants it all and he obliges by shoving it hard to her throat.

Between gasps and groans, she swirls her tongue over the smooth rod and gets a warm flush of satisfaction from his deep groan. It makes her push her mouth back at him. Bob her head and suck at it. She can feel his excitement throbbing and taste his delight. She thinks she might cum when he does and feels it rising inside the shaft. His balls draw up and she gasps at the impending spray, but he yanks her hair back. She feels like a fish mouthing at open air, readies herself for a geyser on her face, but somehow he holds it back with a wrenching groan.

Without invitation, without her permission, her body stretches forth from deep inside her and moans "Please" out into the air. A pleading tone that her throat has never felt before and it accompanies a shaking loose; a torrent of emotion pouring forth from her very soul. "Please."

She's conscious of a puddle beneath her as he sets himself between her knees and grabs her ass. In one fluid motion he lifts it into the air and slams into her to the hilt. If she had breath she would scream. He yanks back and rams in her again. And again. She feels her entire body, her entire self flow around his shaft and hem it in, squeeze it. It's driving to the very heart of her and she feels it thrusting against her cartilage, bruising and bumping her as it plumbs her depths and without warning, she explodes in a shaking mass of nerve.

She has nothing in her experience to compare this feeling of being out of control to. It leaps upon her and shakes her like a ravenous beast, leaving her unable to even cry out. She knows now all the things he's done to this point were all leading up to this.

Before she can turn and tell him, she cums again. This time she cries out. A long, ragged cry. Anguished. Like her orgasm. Drawn out and beyond her ability to keep inside. And again it takes her. Through it all, his relentless pounding maintains a hold on her senses. Drives her to another plane.

He stops and unties her ankles, but she is limp to him. Allowing him to take her how he will and do what he wants and she knows it's what she wants and needs too. He turns her over and with a gentleness to rival any lover's, he slips into her heart and soul. Takes her by the head as she wraps her legs around his hips and slides softly in and back. Testing and teasing. Plumbing her depths. She wants it to go on forever.

Night never falls quickly enough on New Orleans and tonight, and now she hopes the dawn will take even longer to rise.