Writing

“You haven’t been writing,” he says as we sit in the kitchen drinking our tea.  What?  I say, I’ve been writing.  I write every day.  “No. You haven’t written any scenes.”  He looks at me with that wide-open expression of his.  “How am I supposed to help you if you if don’t share what you want?”  I groan.  How I am I supposed to know what I want if I’ve never experienced this before?  I have no idea what it feels like.  This has always been my fear … that what the mind imagines, the body does not like.  And yet, I have been thinking about these possibilities in the abstract for years.  So, how the fuck am I supposed to write about it knowing that it could very possibly become real?  This is my conundrum.  And truth be told, just thinking about this my breath is quickening and I can feel that nervous, excited swirl in the pit of my stomach.

       “You’ve placed me in quite the predicament.”  He has my attention again.  “So I think that turn-around is fair.  You’ve placed me in a predicament, so it’s only fair that I place you in a predicament.”  I have no idea what he is talking about.  He’s smiling as he shares this information with me.  “My predicament is that I don’t know what you’re thinking.  I don’t know what you like or how to help you.  I think once we’ve had our session today you’ll have the motivation to write more.”  It’s all good, I’m thinking … it all sounds good.

       We finish our tea and walk into the living room.  “I want you to take off your clothes and place them over there.”  He stands behind me as I get undressed.  He’s never done this before, stand there and watch as I undress.  Already I am becoming aware of my body and it’s arousal.  I like the attention.  I never used to like being watched, but there is something ….. He moves around me, opens the door to the room and beckons me inside.

There is an item that looks like a sawhorse in the middle of the room, although the top is wider and has padded leather on top.  What the fuck is this I’m thinking to myself.  “Welcome to your predicament.”  I laugh.  What is this?  “I’d like you to kneel on those ledges and place your belly on the leather portion of the horse,” he tells me.  I can see that there is a place for me to put my knees that spreads my legs wide, and allows me to kneel and bend over so that my torso rests on the leather.  The leather pad is narrow enough that my breasts are hanging to either side.  “Put your forearms on those ledges.”  I am now kneeling over the horse. “Good girl,” I hear him say.  “Don’t move. I’m going to tie you to this horse.  I like rope, so this is for me, since I don’t know what you want.”  I’ve been writing I say.  I’ve been sharing.  “Not enough.  Not enough.”  I like rope I say.  I think I really like bondage, I say.  Being tied down with rope or leather cuffs … oh yes, I say … I think I really like that.  So this is good I say.  He smiles at me with that not-so-innocent expression of his.  “Good, then maybe you will enjoy this. Maybe.”  I sigh and settle into the horse.  He ties my legs to the horse at a point just above my knees and at the ankles.  I really like the feeling of him tying me to this horse.  My legs are spread wide.  “Easy access,” he says as he’s tying me to horse.  He stops and strokes my pussy a few times.  Ahh I’m thinking as I squirm and try to fuck his hand.  I like this … I really like this.  “Your moving,” he says, “I told you not to move.”  I stop my squirming.  But it feels so good.  You feel so good.  Of course I want to move.  I say to him. “Well, I’ll just have to help you stay still.”  He ties my arms to the ledges on the horse. My arms are stretched in front of me slightly.  It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not totally comfortable either.  This isn’t so bad I’m thinking to myself.  Being bound like this and his attention is really turning me on.  I start squirming again.  I can move my body a little bit, but my legs and arms are bound tight to the horse.  Mr. starts rubbing my pussy again.  Goddess I could stay like this forever, it feels so good.  “I thought I told you not to move?” I can hear him smiling as he says these words.  I like this I say.  I’ll write about this.  “That’s good.  But now, it time for you to be in a predicament.  I want you to know what it feels like.”

       

I see some evil looking clamps in his hand.  He grabs my right tit and squeezes. Oh this feels good.  Then the clamp goes on, arrrgggghhhh.  I breathe through the pain and it lessens.  He does the same to my left tit.  Breathe, breathe, breathe.  He rubs my pussy again and I start moving.  “Enjoy it now, in a moment it will be a little bit different.”   Out of the corner of my eye I can see him taking out two pieces of twine.  He ties one piece of twine to my left tit and the other piece of twine to my right tit.  He pulls each piece of twine forward and ties them to small eyebolts on the front legs of the horse.  It’s not uncomfortable when I stay still, but if I move ohhh mammmma there is a bit of tug and pain.  He rubs his hands over my back and my legs and down my arms, rubbing, scratching, light patting.  He even uses a piece of fur.  “So tell me what you like.  Since you haven’t written the scene, I need you to do it now.”  Oh god, I like these sensations.  I like these feelings.  I’m a sensation whore I say.  I really like lots of sensation.  This is really nice.  “Not enough information,” he says. I want to move, to meet his hands, but the tug on my breasts hurts just a little too much when I move, so I try really hard to stay still.  I’m beginning to have a difficult time thinking.  I really, really like these sensations.  His pats are becoming a little bit harder and he keeps rubbing my pussy.  Arrrgggghhhh I don’t’ want to move, it hurts but it also feels so good.  I don’t know what to do.  “Well, again, it if you can’t write the scene for me, I’m gonna do what I want to do.”

       He moves away from me and I can hear him rustling around.  I can’t see what he is doing.  I feel lube on my anus. “I love this hole.”  I know I say.  You’re always talking about it.  He slaps my ass, hard.  Oh goddess.  My ass, my tits, it hurts. Then I feel something being pushed in to my asshole.  “We’re gonna go slow here,” he says  “Work you up slowly in the ass. Relax.” Relax?! I’m thinking, yeah, right.  He starts pushing a butt plug up my ass.  I can do this, I breathe, I can do this.  It’s narrow, thank goddess. Much smaller than the one he used on me before.  It’s in.  “Good girl,” I hear him whisper to himself as he rubs my ass cheeks.  Then he starts slowly moving the plug in and out, in and out.  Oh my goddess.  I’m trying not to move.  Ohhhhh.  He pushes it in.  “I think we’re gonna leave it here for a little bit,” he tells me.  “Don’t let it come out.”  He looks at me. “Hand, paddle, flogger or crop?  Oh, sorry, you don’t have to answer. This is my choice.  Maybe next time you’ll do some writing.”  I’m thinking to myself, please don’t choose the crop.  Please, no. I don’t think I’m gonna like that.  He picks up the crop.   Yeah right, Mr. Innocent, I’m thinking to myself.  Looks can be so very deceiving.  Mr. starts to use the crop on me, my ass my legs, my pussy, on the plug in my asshole, aaarrrgggg, even on my breasts.  I can’t stay still.  The sting of the crop, the painful tugs on my tits each time the crop hits and I move.  He continues with the crop for a short while longer.  “What a fucking wonderful predicament you’re in.  I can see you trying so hard to stay still.”  He’s stopped using the crop.  I’m trying to breathe, in and out, in and out.  I feel the slap of his hand on my ass. Slap. Slap.  “Thank me like a good girl when I spank you.” He’s put the crop down and has started spanking my ass.  Oh goddess, I want to move.  Thank you, thank you, thank you. Slap, slap, slap.  He rubs my pussy. His fingers come away covered in my juices. “Look how wet you are.  Well I think we’re going to have to do something about this.”  He takes the butt plug out of my ass.  I feel so empty. “I want you to think about the predicament you put me in,” he says as he stands there with one hand on my back.

       After a moment he moves his other hand and sticks a dildo up my cunt.  Ahhhh.  In, out, in, out.  I try to hump the dildo.  The pain in my tits is too much.

He laughs at my movements. “You want to come don’t you?”  Yes, please, please, please.  “Okay.”  He starts fucking me very slowly me with the dildo.  Goddess, the pain in my tits when I move … what am I supposed to do?  It feels so good in my cunt, but I need more, deeper, faster, harder.  The movement in my cunt is just not enough.  I want to move, but I don’t want to move.  He pulls out the magic wand.  I can feel the buzzing just beyond the reach of my clit.  He moves it in to my clit and then moves it away.  He fucks me slowly with the dildo.  He moves the magic wand in and then out.  Ohhhhh goddess it feels so good, so fucking amazing.  “I like this predicament,” Mr. laughs.  “If you want to come, you have to move so you can fuck it yourself.  I’m gonna hold my toys right here.”  I want to come so bad.  I fuck the dildo back and forth, oh my tits are on fire.  I fuck the magic wand up and down.  Back and forth, back and forth, up and down, up and down.  “Good girl,” I hear.  “Good girl.”  Back and forth, up and down.  Fuck, fuck, fuck. The pain in my tits is morphing into a humming energy in my body.  Goddess, the pain, the pain  ….  and then the pleasure.  I can’t control the shaking of my body.  The energy floods my body, on and on and on and on.  I love this.  Yes, I am a bondage whore and a sensation whore.  And I am learning to embrace it.

My body starts to quiet.  As I come back to awareness I hear Mr. say “Just a minute.”  He unties my tits from the horse and takes the clamps off.  His mouth and hands lessen the pain.  He stands behind me and lays himself over my back for a few moments.  My ass is sore from the crop and spanking he wielded earlier.  He rubs himself on my ass, just to remind me of that soreness. Holding my tits he takes away most of the remaining pain there.  Then he leans in closer to find that place on my neck, and burrows in with his mouth.  I breathe in the feeling, the smell of him.  Oh yes.  After a few more moments he stand up and starts removing my bindings.  I’m a bit unsteady on my feet as he helps me over to the couch.  He sits, pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me.  We sit like this for a while.  Next time, I say, maybe I’ll have to forget to write about my shibari fantasies.  “Good, fucking girl,” he responds.