TOP OF THE LIGHTHOUSE

 

By Wolff

 

©2006 Wolfwerks

 

 

 

She was obsessed with the old lighthouse. She did not know if it was its blatant phallic form or the white light on the top – now extinguished – or something else, but it held a siren call for her.

 

When she mentioned it would be nice to watch fireworks from it, he said with exasperation, “You want a lighthouse? I’ll GIVE you a lighthouse AND fireworks. Oh yes!”

 

Oh the Fourth of July, at dusk, he made her drive them to the lighthouse in her convertible. She was wearing a billowing gray skirt and a tight white latex corset. It took him an hour to lace it tightly. Tina’s mirrored shades defended her from occasional insulting stare at her elegant steel collar or her ringed boobs riding proud above it. She did not know what he had in mind, but, she knew it would be SOMETHING wicked and hot. He was moody as he often was.

 

She drove fast.

 

They arrived at the desolate promontory and he took her towards the lone stone finger, its whiteness sketched against the darkening sky. It was windy and cool. Walking across the grass in her high-heeled Manolos he made her wear was tricky.

 

They arrived at the fence and Tina stared at the sign:                             

 

 

DANGER

 

THIS SITE IS NOT SAFE

 

THE BUILDING IS UNDER RECONSTRUCTION

 

ABSOLUTELY NO VISITORS.

 

TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.

 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

 

 

A pang of fear ran through her body. Tina felt his hand grip her guts. ‘If it is unsafe, what are we…..?’

 

She saw him pocket his cell phone after a brief exchange and pull out a key. He opened the creaking gate and motioned her through.

 

As she passed him, he ripped off her skirt in one motion.  After all,  it was made to be ripped off. He stuffed it into a puffer bag and pulled out a latex arm binder and cuffs connected with a single, wide link.

 

Tina obediently offered her hands on her back. The clutch and antsy fear inside her stomach grew stronger. Once he cuffed her, he took his time lacing the arm binder. It went almost to shoulders and gripped her arms excruciatingly. Then he bent her arms at elbows, pulling her cuffed hands towards her head. He connected them to her collar and finally tied it all tightly, using extra laces to bind it to her corset. The arrangement pushed her heavily ringed tits even further out.

                                                                                                                                       

The boiling calm of the space enveloped her as he slapped her now very exposed ass, moving her towards the dark opening at the base of the lighthouse.

 

As she stared at the metal door, he blindfolded her, muttering: “And now let’s work towards the slut fireworks.”

 

She heard the grate of the door and fretfully moved in.

 

Somehow she FELT the tubular space rising above her. In her mind, it was vast and threateningly stifling at the same time. She imagined a wooden stairs hugging its sides, winding towards the top platform three stories away. They stairs must be following a row of narrow windows that she noticed before.

 

He pushed her on and she heard wood resound under her heels. She flinched as he gripped her ass cheek and yelped as he shoved a butt plug unceremoniously in her ass. It was unlubed.

 

“You will now earn every step of the way up. A bitch has to work for her way to the top.”

 

She heard the soft then sharp whisper of the flogger. It echoed in the lighthouse as it connected with her bareness.

 

“Move on, bitch. And keep moving.’

 

She moved.

 

She found her way up the stairs one torturous, stammering step at the time. The flogger mercilessly spurred her on. The rhythmical cadence of the echoing strikes was etched on her ever reddening ass.

 

After a few steps she tripped and felt his hand grip her shoulder steadying her.

 

“Careful little one. These stairs are old and in bad repair. Reach the top if you can.”

 

He went on with his job and she went on with hers. She imagined a lonely form of the bound woman casting a long shadow across the creaky stairs and bare walls towards the yawing hole in the middle. Unforgiving instrument of pain urged her on towards the unknown’s heights.

 

Her beaded pussy began to twitch insistently.

 

Suddenly her foot found an empty space instead of the step. She stumbled and this time he did not hold her and she fell heavily on the first landing.

 

His hand gripped the butt plug base, pulled it out, and rammed it back forcefully, pushing her across the old planks.

 

“MOVE BITCH! Crawl if you have to!”

 

She crawled. She heard creaking and thought she felt the platform move under her. Another, stronger pang of fear ran from her stomach to her curled toes and back.

 

He pushed her on. She crawled until her trembling hands found the first step of the next flight of stairs. She felt his arm around her torso, enveloping her, grabbing her throat, pulling her face upwards. Her open, trembling lips rose in an inarticulate plea.

 

“The next rate of the payment!” she heard him whisper throatily.

 

The painful tugging spread from her nipples. He had attached the connecting chain to her heavy nipple rings. She knew he was linking the leash to it. He threw it over her shoulder and looped it through the link connecting her cuffs and drew it tight.

 

He pushed her onwards and the leashes tightened. Tina’s tits screamed. She tottered on her feet feeling its very presence steadying her.

 

The familiar whizzing whistle preceded the sharp cut of pain on her plugged bottom. The cane was to goad her on the next level.

 

She moved on, leaning far forward, leaning on the tight leash, her pulled boobs paying the price of security. The empty lighthouse acted as acoustic torture chamber. Amplified and multiplied THWACKS on her ass and buttock carried more weight that the pain itself. It propelled her upwards along the shaky stairway.

 

The creaking gave her repeated jitters. Tina moved from side to side. She would brush the walls feeling the powdered mortar falling on her and then she would slide to the other side, imagining the stairs leaning toward the empty space, the spine of the now dreadful lighthouse.

 

Tina always thought the stories about sluts slipping in their own juice were just a fantasy. She was not sure about that anymore. Her inner thighs were slick with her juice and sweat. Her feet were slipping and sliding in her moisture-filled Manolos.

                                                                                                                                       

She was moving deeper and deeper into uncharted regions of subspace. Tina felt tightly packed and enclosed in scratchy cotton – yet horribly free. The humiliating throb of her pussy was triggered by increasing waves of pain and fear. It pushed her into a no-think zone.

 

Tina could feel and hear the stairs dangerously moving and swaying. She felt herself tottering on their very edge, certain there was no railing. She held back from the kiss of the abyss only by his strong hold on her leash - hoping that he will not let her fall. Surprisingly she was not certain of it any more.

 

Her mind flashed the black and white image: an armless woman leaning deeply forward, almost crawling, held onto the leash by the man swinging the cane viciously. In the back-lighted halo of light his hair was flying wildly. His heavy breathing and laughter were echoing in starkly lit vertical space.

 

Their huge shadows stretched expressionistically on the walls, following them like a ghost of old black and white horrors.

 

She knew that the abyss they were circling was bottomless. It’s ravenousness was unquenchable. No amount of her cunt juice could fill it. She had an absurd vision of a flock of bats rising from it, circling the pair, screeching in mad hilarity. They left towards the top. , their fluttering shadows chased them on the stone walls.

 

 Tina flopped on the second landing, rough planks rousing her briefly from the vision.

 

Her ravaged bottom screeched, too, joining her tortured tits. Her trembling, cane-marked legs trashed as he mercilessly pulled her up with the leash. She was whimpering loudly, tears streaming under her blindfold

 

Grabbing her from behind, his hands traveled her body. He did not refrain from molding her hurting breasts to his hand. Suddenly he slammed her against the wall. She shrieked. Her bound hands seemed torn.

 

His hand crushed her sappy pussy lips. His fingers slipped in, almost lost in the liquid volcano. Gripped tightly the betraying flesh he pulled it apart viciously.

 

She felt the rings tugged as he threaded the leashes through them.

 

The leather strip from her pussy rings was slipped over her hips. Knowing he was gathering all reins in one hand, she took one tentative step forward and lost her footing. Her ruined Manolos flew away, clattered on the wood and disappeared. She pictured it falling, slowly turning as it went towards the peace of abyss still denied to her.

 

Tina was almost hanging by the leashes attached to rings piercing her tender flesh. A searing pain enveloped her as her tits were pulled upwards and her pussy lips spread more than she thought possible.

 

He moved sideways letting her regain her footing, then, flashed the cat sharply between her open legs. She gasped, bit her tongue, and jerked forward.

 

“The payment for the last leg is due, bitch. The end of stairways to heaven gate is in sight.”

 

The last circle along the creaking stairs was a journey through the red fog. The seven tongued cat played its fiery dance all over her body, and whenever he legs moved, apart it kissed her leashed pussy.

 

The pain impulses merged with the wild swaying of the stairwell. She was like a ship in the blinding storm – the lighthouse beckoned to her too. He spurred on his double leashed bitch mercilessly upwards. Her spread, yet empty cunt sang a siren song to him. They were enveloped in it’s emanations and their intermingled sweat.

 

The fear that the stairs will give and send them crashing down and that he did not CARE, became almost comfortable. The corridor of her mind she was traveling was narrowing.

 

The night is darkest just before the dawn.

 

Tina did not even realize they were on the final landing.  She was still trying to crawl forward feebly. Although exhausted and her mind was in the grip of pain – she only wanted to crawl on forever. As long as he held her reins this was the tortuous heaven she wanted to be submitted to. It was the top for her.

 

She felt him lifting her. Hanging limp on his arm she though she heard the door opening, felt him kick away her remaining shoe and push her forward. 

 

A sudden gust of cold evening breeze told her they had reached the top.

 

He carried her forward. Then put her down, letting her walk the last few steps on her bare feet. As she had felt the enclosed space of the inside she now felt the open space of the outside.  She was on the circular platform below the light source itself.

 

Her lower chest encountered the metal railing and she leaned over it, her heaving breast hanging in the empty space. He pulled her leashes back.

 

Tina felt his hand his hand gripping the base of her buttplug. He ripped it out of her ass and snatched away her blindfold at the same time. 

 

The space yawned in front of her and the vertigo gripped her. The sky was almost dark; the little bit of light on the other side of the bay seemed tiny and distant.

 

The dry cracks of the first fireworks and accompanying music also seemed distant.

 

The multicolored light flowered into the sky, showering towards the water and their smudged reflections.

 

His cock shot in her ass insistently.

 

His knees bent slightly and his torso moved backwards. He gripped her legs and lifted them off the ground, securing them at the small of his back, above his ass. Instinctively, she tightened her calf muscles, hugging him with her legs.

 

She was spread like a starfish on his body, his ravaging cock her only support.

 

His bitch began to yelp and pant as he pumped her asshole furiously. Each stroke seemed deeper and he would wait for a second, gripping her by shoulders, drawing her closer, crushing her bound hands in his heaving chest. Then he almost ripped it out of her screaming anus and slammed it in even deeper.

 

The swirling fireworks paled and disappeared. She exploded into her own fireworks, riding into the dark on the rocked of her orgasm.

 

The various pains and restraints sublimed into one mighty hand pushing her into ecstasy. Only his insistent cock remained. Then, it too disappeared.

 

Wave upon wave of cum took her.

 

As the orgasmic waves receded, she felt his body turned sideways. His hand gripped her head and tuned it back and upwards. She stared uncomprehendingly.  She did not want to understand anything, anyway.

 

Suddenly the beacon light came to life, in obvious synchronization with the fireworks. It was Independence Day after all.

 

The blinding white light triggered something in her. She moved from the howling darkness area into a howling light. The cum wave rose again and carried her away into the brightness.

 

He plowed in her ass again. He was exploring the eternal mystery: how many times a submissive can be made to cum with such simple act as assfucking?

 

 

Later, he let her kneel on her haunches and stare across the bay at the sky, now dark again. The fireworks were appropriately over. The beacon light was turning silently. The railing resembled vertical cage bars. That was appropriate too.

 

He was breathing heavily, no need to say that was even more appropriate. His hand was gliding softly over her damp hair.

 

Then he picked her up and led her, holding her leashes lightly back to the door leading into lighthouse insides.

 

Her eyes widened as she beheld the brightly lit interior.

 

The winding stairs were brand new and freshly painted, as was steel railing.  Even the smell of fresh pain was distinct in the air. It was laced with their sweat and her pussy juice.

 

He smiled gently but his eyes remained dark and their glint was mercilessly mischievous.

 

“It took some effort to synchronize our visit with the end of repairs. The mind is the most intensive playground and dungeon of them all, don’t you think?’

 

 

 

END?

 

 

He pulled out his notebook and crossed the lighthouse just below the gallery.

 

Next on the list were Maxim’s and the zoo.

 

“The ZOO will take several visits at least,” he muttered. “I think I will finally cum there.’