Tripping the Line
by Aylith
She was not used to this kind of treatment at all, she commented to the room, as
she threw down her bag and coat on the leather sofa. She dwelled on the evening
miserably as she slipped off her satin mule pumps and padded across the
apartment toward the kitchen. Her toes curling into the shag-pile carpet.
Clicking the switch on the kettle, her mind wandered away. Sure enough the man
she met for the date had been the "normal type", and that was the problem, she
thought to herself. Since HE had come into her life and turned it upside down.
Bringing her thoughts back to the present as the kettle clicked off, she poured
herself a cup of coffee, sauntered into the living room and curled herself up on
the sofa. As she flicked through the pages of a local paper, barely reading what
was printed, she took stock at what had been happening to herself since HE had
entered her life. She could remember every single detail of their first meeting,
the fine dinner at the top local restaurant. She had drunk too much wine to
notice her steady decline of self-control as he took her back to his place. What
happened after that still recurred every night in her dreams.
He had started to play some slow, sweet music, she knew as part of Beethoven 9th
symphony As HE took her through to what he called "The Master bedroom". With a
click of a switch, the music flowed into the room, her mind swimming away with
the high and lows of the beat as HE came to stand in front of her. HE had kissed
her, long and hard, his passions filling her mind as she'd pushed her body
wantonly toward him. She remembered how he'd brought his fingers up, and
slipping them along the buttons of the top she had been wearing. It had slipped
from her body as quickly as her bra had come undone under his skilful fingers.
All the while her eyes were taking in the room, the high ceiling covered in
heavy dark red patterns, her eyes following the movements of the patterns
downwards. She sucked in her breath as HE slipped down the zipper of her tight
pencil skirt, pushing it down her strong thighs.
Her eyes came to rest on the 4-poster bed, its pillars made of heavy old oak,
the headboard carved with patterns of something she couldn't quite make out, the
sheets and rugs the purest of white. Her eyes had closed as he'd hooked his
thumbs into the waistband of her panties and taken them to the floor. He took
her hands and led her to the bed, where he had laid her over his lap and spanked
the fullness of her buttocks with the palm of his hand, until she wept her tears
of pleasure. Her body had shaken from the sheer intensity of what his hand had
done to her body.
Even after that he had laid her down on her back and caressed her; she had
suddenly noticed he had never got undressed. The balance of power between them
had flooded her thoughts and made her ask the simple question of "How did you
know". He had waited, patiently, until she had opened her eyes before he spoke,
and in that instant she plainly saw her need reflect off him, untouched.
"I saw it in your eyes" had been his reply.
Slapping the magazine down on the polished table and running her fingers through
her silken hair she got up and walked toward the bedroom. Taking off her
eveningwear and looking longingly into the full-length mirror on the far side of
the bedroom wall, her eyes glazed of the marks that HE had left from his last
visit, the vivid red welts raised on her soft skin taunting her mercilessly. She
turned her eyes from the mirror, willing herself to stop seeing him. In her
heart she knew she had no chance. The nearest she got was dating these "normal
guys" and doing the dinner, small talk "thing", and most importantly, being the
new-age independent women they wanted her to be when it came to sex. They
thought the height of adventurism was handcuffs.
Even when she tried to open their minds to new ideas, they had all looked at her
and just dismissed it straight out. Or they would try it, but only
half-heartily. Sighing softly to herself as she got into her double bed, she
turned until she got into a comfortable position, because of her welts. Tried to
settle down to sleep, and knew it wasn't going to happen.
Her mind, still racing at thoughts of her last encounter with him, she ran a
single finger tip along the welt that ran across her thigh and her other hand
reached for the light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whenever she met with him it was always a battle of wills and self-control. With
all the battles they fought, she would ultimately lose and she knew it. Hours
must have passed by since he had made her stripped naked; glaring at her
jewellery pointedly and in low harsh tones stated that when he said naked he
meant like the day she was born. How she knew her cheeks had burned at that
statement. She moved her head slightly and rolled her shoulders to work out the
kinks that had developed since she had been bound tightly on her knees at his
hands.
She shuddered. Then and there she knew he was back, not close enough to touch
but enough to feel his presence flood the room. Most strong-minded people she
knew had a warming and confident presence but not His. His presence was one of
confidence maybe but it was ice cold and arrogant (not that it wasn't justified)
that was part of what made her come back for more. Him in his button down shirts
and smart trousers, Him and his predatory smile that could melt her within
seconds and his sharp mind that seemed to twist her every word. Above all to her
he was always a shock to the senses and just now the only thing HE radiated was
sheer menace.
Her heart was beating so hard against her rib cage she felt like she was ready
to shatter as he crouched at her side. She knew better than to rise her eyes to
his, even when he tip her chin up so he could get a better look at her face.
"Has your wait humbled your manners?" he asked casually. In her mind she found
herself responding with the right words to the questions that followed one after
another.
The simple questions allowed her the space to ask herself some…why was she here?
Why did she tolerate this treatment? To her increased despondency she could find
no answers only the desire for more.
"Well?" he demanded. Her train of thought came to a sudden Holt as the air
around them hung with suspense. As her mind raced to figure out what HE had
asked of herself, his hand came up and with a solid crack to her left cheek,
sending her face flying against his other hand, to which it cushion the blow
against her cheek. He moved his hand and took a firm grip of the length of her
hair and pulled himself up taking her with him. She bit down on her lower lip;
refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the discomfit he was causing
her.
Bring his body round in front of her own he took his fingers and dug them in
into her jaw and held her tight. Even than she knew better than to dare rise her
eyes. "I ask again of you, No boredom while you waited for my return?" Her reply
was quick "No Sir". He brought their faces closer together, enough for her to
smell the faint scent of peppermint on his breath.
"You realise that if it was my desire to keep you bound up all night than
nothing should give greater pleasure". He let go of her chin. "I want to be with
you," she cried out at him, almost with some force behind it. With a sudden
movement, his fingers were within her hair and pulling her head back making her
eyes met with his own. His eyes bored into her hers as he shook his grip lose
making her head fall down. Her eyes came to rest on the crotch of his trousers,
noticing the slight bulge that pushed against the front of them. At that point,
a desire so fierce and raw with fury that it threaten to consume her need for
him. Wanting to break him, worship him and over power him with the fury of her
desire for him.
He must of felt what she was feeling because he crushed his lips against her own
and she responded to his need. She tried to make the kiss more personal but when
she pushed out her tongue, he broke the kiss as if something had stung him. He
back off and looked a little off balanced but as soon as she blinked it was
gone. "Whore" he smirked at her, as he walk across to the other side of the wall
and took hold of a carefully crafted stock whip, his favourite toy.
"I am going to whip that wilful bottom of yours now." he stated matter-of
factly, as HE moved round her. Taking her cuffed hands and hooking them to the
chain hanging from the ceiling making her push up on her tiptoes. He was still
behind her and with one hand pushed slightly down on the base of her back making
her bottom thrust out in wanton manner. She breathed in deeply as he paced about
her but never coming into her line of sight.
He made her wait, cracking the whip everywhere but against her skin. Than and
there she hated him, despised him and wanted him all in the same space of time
and thought and than it happen, the whip struck at her. The first cut, a fine
line of fire across her buttocks. The next strike made her sing with lust and
than the following strikes after that made her body and mind fly as the pleasure
and pain mixed together, until she thought she couldn't take the pain or
withstand pleasure anymore.
The next thing she knew through the tears she had cried for his pleasure, the
whip had stop hitting her now tender skin. She breath in deeply, collecting her
thoughts together when she felt his body pressed up against her burning back.
She flinched. "Touch me, please," she whispered. She brought a growl from deep
within his throat. His voice gruffly told her "I will say and will touch you
when it pleases me"; as he ran the palm of his right hand down to cup her wet
mound. "Little whore" he laughed as he slides a finger tip over her clit that
was pouting between her shaven sex lips.
She glowed with pleasure as she heard the metal rasp of his zipper and felt his
cock touching her fiery buttocks. She had driven him to the brink of losing that
mask of coldness Knowing that he was trying to gather his self-control together
to make her wait, to beg and to plead for his attention. "I love you," she
cried. Part of her meant it and the other only wanting to drive the emotions
within him to the edge, as he positioned himself so that the head of his cock
touch her wetness. "But I know you only love me for what I am too you" she said,
also daring him to do his worse, knowing it would push passed the brink to which
had been holding him back. "You are to me nothing, but what I desire you to be"
and he thrust deep into her
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He wasn't always like this, not in the beginning when they first met. There was
a time when the pain was an erotic prelude to the pleasures that would follow.
Now through it was if he was making her purely suffer for his pleasure, taking
pleasure within her in own misery.
Weaving her way through the crowd of people who had gathered to hear the guest
speaker. Some talk about "Sub/Dom interaction" she had over-heard from the
couple of leather dykes just to the right of her. She had started coming to
these sorts of meeting and events to be with people who considered her ideas to
be the "normal". So she felt like she belongs to something, even if she didn't
hang on every single word that they believe to be the right way to do something.
The soft humming of voices started to decline as the guest speaker wandered
quickly upon the stage. Taking a seat in one of the middle rows, blending into
the sea of people, she tried her hardest to listen to the statements being made
and the barrage of questions being asked by the scene community. The speaker
when through the questions with the greatest of easy but soon in her mind
questions and answers were being blurred.
HE never came to these sort of planned events by the scene community. He found
then to be repetitive and largely populated with people who only use these sorts
of activities within the bedroom and only at the weekend. A simple smile played
across her soft lips, thinking back to when he had taken her away for the
weekend to a hotel somewhere. At this point their relationship was one of just
"playing in the bedroom". The activities were only for their mutual pleasure.
The pain he had given her back than was never anything but erotic. Now she knew
that it had only been to break her in, and than after that to mould her into his
greatest masterpiece.
After the fine meal she was becoming accustomed to in his presence. He had taken
her by the crook of her elbow and led her to the room he had booked for the
night. She had been ordered to close her eyes, as he wiped the plastic card
through the door to open it. With a soft tug he had guided her inside. A smell
of lavender and primrose oils met her nose when he had closed the door behind
her. Still he had made her keep her pretty eyes closed and brought her across
room. He turned her at that point and with a sudden force, had pushed her
backward. She had landed on the soft bed that had broken her fall. His sudden
request that she should open her eyes now, knock her back to what he was
planning. She had opened her eyes with deliberate slowness to make him wait this
time but when she had them fully open she couldn't have suppress the gasp of
enticement.
The room was alight with white candles, the flames throwing strange patterns
against the four walls. The chilled bucket of ice containing a bottle of
Bollinger '74, stood next to the king-size bed that partially took over the
entire room. Her eyes had come to settle upon the matching pair of clover clamps
resting on top of the pillow. He still hadn't moved from his position near the
doorway, as his unrelenting gaze travelled along her slender body, his eyes were
almost questioning.
HE had started moving toward her, his eyes serious, his face sombre. The closer
he got to her the more she had tried not to edge away, knowing it would have
only made matters worse for herself. He didn't touch her. Not even once, with
those expressive hands of his but he had gone for the clover clamps upon the
pillow next to her. He had brought them close to her pale lips; the cold metal
was the only contact between them, as he had moved one of them across her right
cheek. With out a single word utter between them she had instantly known that he
wanted her undressed. He had taken the clamps away from her face and turned on
his heel and walk across the room floor. His hand taking out the plastic card
and once again ran it through, locking the door.
He had turned back to her, his gaze meeting her own. She remembered how back
than, this was their little battle of wills but always she would be the first to
lower her gaze. With a single word from his mouth, the shift in the balance of
power between them became within his favour.
"Strip" and so she did and quickly
Her garments had come off her nimble body with quickly sure movements of her
hands as clothes landing in a pile at the bottom of her feet. She quickly
adjusted her position so that her body was straight and her breasts had firmly
jutted out. His eye candy, or so she told herself to give herself the boost of
confidence she needed. She was sure that his smile had grown with every passing
moment. The air around them charged with power she had waited but for what? His
pleasure?
Again she received no response, but it was his choice because he had choices and
she didn't. That was part of this game? He covered the distance between and was
inches from her, when her heart had climbed to a higher beat. Once again the
clover clamps came up but this time touch her nipples, making them spring to
attention. He had a knowing smirk as he had circled the end of the clamp against
her nipples. She had known what was coming next, as the jaws of the twin clamps
opened to engulf her hardened nipples. Her mind closed up with the bittersweet
pleasure than coursed through them extended into the rest of her body.
He had the decency to let her become accustomed to the bite of the clamps, as he
glanced over her shoulder toward the bed, turning his mirrored eyes back to
hers, as she knew what he meant. She remembered gingerly seating herself down at
the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb the clamps biting her nipples. Using
her imagination at the time, she had rolled over upon her hands and knees
presenting him with what he controlled so easily. Yet again no respond came from
him.
She had kept her eyes upon the pillow as she had felt his movements about her
body. What came next had knocked her breath from her. She knew now why he had
brought the chilled bottle of champagne, as she had felt the shocking caress of
one of the ice cube making it way long the back of her right calf toward her
knee cap. She had tired her hardest not to move as the ice cube made it way
across her kneecap and tracing a path up to toward her buttocks, but it had
proved very hard indeed.
As the minutes had passed by she had been writhing about upon the bed, the cube
teased and torment her back, belly and buttocks. At one point he even pushed a
single ice cube against her puckered hole. She had clamped down her walls
against the cube, but weakened when his right hand had made contact with her
right buttock. The spanking continued until she had given up and allowed him to
push the ice into her hole and felt the ice melt within her tunnel.
Her body had been sweating as HE had kept up his torment of her body, replacing
the ice cubes with the hot wax. Her mind and body were awash with pleasure that
could only come at his hands. Her mind not working on anything but the
pleasurable feeling and the bittersweet pain he caused her to endure for his own
perverse pleasure.
What surprised her next was HIS sheer quickness as he splayed his hand across
her belly and made her lift her buttocks higher. She had felt her body trembling
at this unsuspected touch, even in this open position he had placed her in. She
had felt the burning sensation of the wax being drip upon her exposed hole,
dripping down upon her swollen sex and cooling at the base of her clit. Her head
had been thrashing violently when the wax hit her cool skin; teasing out what
little composure she had left.
Than all within the space of a second passing he stop his erotic torture. Her
body trembled more so than, than when she was being caresses by his chosen
weapons of pleasure. she had to lift her head up slightly to finally notice he
was standing next to the bed, naked for her own eyes to drink in his body. He
had overwhelmed her mind and when she had tried to reach out her hand to touch
his naked body, he had turn away from her. Her eyes had closed and she waited,
as the bed move under herself as he moves himself behind her.
In that space, she knew she had lost the battle to him, as he had opened her sex
lips with fingers and pushed his length into her wetness. He rode her with sure,
long penetrating stokes, and she cried tears of frustration as he continued this
delicious but frustrating pace. His hands had held her tightly against him as he
had moved deep within her body. She had matched his pace as the tears had
flooded down her face. He had mastered her mind and body with only gestures and
erotic pain and she herself had let him tame her spirit but he had never broken
it. Her body had been kept on the edge of pleasure for his only own. Oh how she
had cried for her release, how she beg for his mercy and lastly sobbed for his
judgment.
As he had rocked her to the beginning of what she would know to be an exploitive
climax(s) Her mind had started to cave in to the force of what he had done to
her body. He had moved his hands from holding her hips and moved them down along
her belly, making her shudder under his body as he lean into her back. His long
thrusts of his length had started to grow faster and she remembers how her inner
walls had griped his length and started to caresses him.
His thrusts became faster and harder as he rode her, the only sound he had was
the soft growling from deep within his throat that showed his pleasure. Her mind
had burst with pleasure and she clamp down tightly on his moving length as she
felt a tight ring of pleasure gripping at her body. She had felt his length
throbbing deep with her, as the first waves of pleasure pulse through her
trembling body, his fingers had grip the clover clamps and snap them open.
Her whole world shimmered with blissful sweet pleasure and pain, her body and
mind had black- out with the sheer power of the blood rushing back to her
nipples that the last thing she heard was HIM crying out as he came deep within
her hot tunnel.
By the end of the weekend, the games they had been playing were over And the
reality of what he was asking of her came to light.
He asked if she was ready and foolishly she had replied
"Yes".
