Indecipherable Scrawlings

"You can't hurt me."

Words whose sultry delivery does nothing to undercut their inherent lie.  A grip too firm, turn too quick, blow too forceful and there will be screams, and tears, or even a shuddering cessation.  Hurting people is so easy most do it on accident, let alone when I bend my creative faculties towards the task.  Such things are obvious to us both, just as obvious as her smiling invitation is to be hurt.  To feel exquisite agony.  Sharp sensation sparking into a cerebral storm of sensation as to numb of still turbulent thoughts.  To focus everything on this singular moment were there are only waves of tantalizing experience.  Just as I will use that pain as the underlying percussion to the piece I am conducting, an ever present rumbling.

The words are invitation, challenge, and reassurance.  Just not technically true.

In college I was drinking with some friends and my sub.  Things were getting a little out of hand and someone mentioned the old English practice of "auctioning" off wives as a form of divorce.  To much laughter I tied my sub's scarf into a makeshift halter and asked what I could get for her.  At first she was thrilled with the attention and the sudden game.  She was less thrilled when the wining bid turned out to be two beers, a lighter with a cool design on one side, and whatever change I could dig out of the couch cushions.

It was something of a surreal experience to have to include my confidences I should have gotten high five figures for her in an apology.

Overhead the moon show brilliantly through the barren branches of slumbering.  Its wan illumination combining with the orange glow of the street lights to turn strands of vibrant gold into dusky locks whose promised dawn came from the dark glittering gems of eyes that sparkled up at me.  Those eyes spoke of worry, concern and impatience as they slowly bobbed up and down.  Flickering away as the wind sighed, stirring rustling leaves that swirled about in a cascade of dull brown, fearing some approach to this half secluded spot.  The cold bite of the wind and that concern sending goosebumps crawling across her, reaching even up to the back of her head where I held her, feeding her desire to end this punishment as quickly as possible.  A desire propelling her flicking and slithering tongue into frantic caresses along my throbbing cock even as her neck tensed, trying to move faster then my grip permitted.

But I took my time, enjoying myself fully.  As I had enjoyed making her stand and twirl in front of me.  Drinking in her outfit, the care she had put into it and how it made her glow.  A glow I exposed one article at a time.  Slowly, carefully.  Taking in the sight of each step from every angle.  Having her neatly fold and stack her jacket, skirt, shirts, bra and thong on the bench next to me.  Leaving her kneeling on my jacket in nothing but her high heeled boots.  I liked those boots.

A long lingering tease on a chilly night.  The cold air contrasting sharply with her warm mouth and eager tongue.  Making me shiver as I slowly drew her up and down.  The pop as I pulled her off sounded remarkably loud in the quiet night.  Nearly as loud as her frustration as I released her and tore open a condom.  Still she knelt obediently as I slid it on and responded instantly when I commanded she come up.  Straddling and posed above me my hands burning against her cold skin.  I drew her towards me, hands moving up her back as I drew her down finding she was still warm as I pierced her.  Expertly flexing and tensing around my cock, her pussy sending spasms of pleasure through me as her desire found a fresh expression.  I curled my fingers around her shoulder blades pulling her the last of the way down.  With exquisite slowness my nails raked down her naked back, leaving behind trails of fire as my teeth left clear marks around one nipple.  She fought against giving us away with a scream.  Settling my hands just below her ribs I started drawing her up and down.  Using her.  Pumping her like an oversized fleshlight.  Growling the description to her, feeling her quiver in involuntary excitement at it.  Hearing the moans begin to escape her as I shared my warmth with her.  Forced it into her.  One of my hands fell smacking into her butt hard, loudly.  But it was my pinky sliding into her ass that made her lose control.  Her head snapped down, teeth pushing through my shirt and into my shoulder.

I growled in response.  Standing and turning with her still on me.  Slamming her into the table, pushing the flabby part of my hand into her mouth to stifled her as I fucked her.  Pounding into her.  Dragging her naked back over the pitted wood of the table.  My free hand pressing into her breast.  One last feral growl rumbled from my chest as her screams strangled on my hand.  One last explosive thrust.

Then I slumped over the table.  The only sound our ragged breathing fluttering up through the barren branches to the bright moon.

She continues to squirm.  Sharp spasms of legs locked immovably into a bar securely anchored to the floor.  Twitching arms that only succeeded in drawing the eyelet on the front of leather harness around her waist back and forth.  The movement catching the stop of the chain, drawing it and the clamps they were connected to tight.  The pressure on her nipples just making her squirm again.

Though in truth most of the squirming was probably my fault.  I could hear her spluttering, the desperate flare of nostrils.  I feel the plastic ring and flailing tongue as I lowered myself again.  Pushing deeper at a glacial pace as I keep a careful count.  Giving her just enough time to rest before I return to fucking her mouth.  Using it.  Both for my own pleasure and to remind her that every breath is my gift.  Still the squirming is getting worse.  I let myself drop further on my knees, pushing my cock deeper into my mouth, feeling her gag.  The hand I had been using to steady myself snaps.  Her pussy burns at its hasty touch and her scream buzzes through me.

I shift off her and she cough in fresh air.  Still idly tracing her curves with the pinwheel with one hand my other traces its way down her stomach.  Nails kissing soft skin before I bump into the cold plastic still buzzing away.  I ignore it just long enough to tear away the rest of the duct tape holding it in place.  That produces a complicated noise from her as the motion also yanks the chain, the sharp teeth of the clamps digging in desperately to stay in place.  I don't give her time to rest though.  One hand draws complicated shapes with the pin wheel across her chest.  The other drives the vibrator into her.  Each thrust rammed home to the hilt, each withdrawn drawing the chain taught.  My entire hand follows the thrust, calloused palm driving steel links down onto an an already oversensitive clit.  Grinding.  Thrusting.  Teasing.  The squirming is getting much worse.

My knuckles brush her throat as I reach under her collar.  The movement slow, gentle.  My other hand burying the vibrator in one savage thrust  and clamping down on her belt.  Then I stand, dragging her up with me.  I hold her, one hand sliding back down to manipulate the toy as I let her get her feet.  My tender embrace also allows me to get at the leash swishing behind her and I draw it up.  Pulling it up and onto a hook.  There's little slack in it.  Any buckling of those wobbly knees will constrict the collar around her neck.  Something I gently remind her of even as I promise dire consequences if she lets the toy drop.  Threatening to whip her ass red as I nibble at her ear, my hands moving along her sides to tuck up under her arms.  My nails sink into a tender breast as other fingers trace her chin.  A growl reverberates out of my chest as I thrust into her ass.  No where to go she is forced to accept it with a moan I take the liberty of choking off.

Raw need drives my hips, sending me hammering into her.  There is no squirming now, just a constant shiver as sensation wracks her body.  She is in constant motion and frozen in place.  My iron grip giving her slack by immobilizing her.  Pleasure jolting through her as I take my own.  Our noises the unintelligible song of lust and desire.  Cascading towards a brutal crescendo.  Both imminent and forever away, but crashing home all in one instant of pleasure that sends stars spiraling across my eyes.

A good beginning I think

So today there was a season discussion about which monster we'd like to be.  Obviously the subject of vampires came up pretty quickly.  One of my coworkers was surprised when I dismissed being one pretty much out of hand.

"Why?"  They asked.

"No heart beat means no blood flow...means no blood rushing to certain places.  What's the point in immortality if nothing will arise?"

There was a moment of silence at that before a horrified look spread across another colleague's face, "Wait.  Does that mean if you die...hard, you'll stay hard for all eternity?"

"Would explain why Dracula needed three wives."

I tied the belt around the tree, letting it rest in the stump of a fallen branch.  My fingers slid easily into the slack between fraying cloth and rough bark as I circled around till soft flesh replaced bark.  My fingers idly traced the delicate windpipe as I felt the frantic hammering if a heart racing with nervousness and excitement.  Moving down the neck my fingers traced along bare shoulders then up arms prickling with goosebumps to a rope with no slack that pinned her hands above her head.  One quick check and I moved down again.  Stopping only briefly to twist the hair ties now securing nipples I let my hands drink in her skin.  Pulling her closer as I wrapped about her stomach and squeeze her ass hard enough to make her gasp.  Still further down onto thighs already parted but now pulled apart as I lifted her.

A hiss escaped her.  Lifting slid her back along coarse bark.  Soft sensitive skin abraded by rough, uneven wood.  Her face faded into pleasure as I leaned in for a kiss.  Grinding our hips I pushed myself into her, grunting as she enfolded me.

For a few moment I rocked gently into her.  Then I let her drop.  The belt caught on the broken branch and suddenly there was no slack.  Her eyes went wide as she choked, hands futilely struggling.  Then I slammed back into her, driving her back up.  She moaned as she tasted air again.  Then the process repeated.

Each savage thrust grated her back along the bark.  Rubbing and pulling, picking at the skin.  I hammered into her, fingers digging deep into her thighs.  Fucking her with wreckless abandon.  Wilder and wilder, harder and harder.  Each new pass another peak of pain.  But each new agony bringing the breath of life.  A moment of perfect pleasure speaking above a roiling sea of sweet torment.

Closer and closer together until they blurred into one.  Ecstacy and agony inseparable.  A cacophony of sensation that filled her mind and exploded into a buzzing numbness that left only clarity in its wake.

The valley stretched out before us, a sea of reds and roiling with waves of amber and brown.  A chilly breeze gave hints of the rich aromas of autumn amidst the stink of exhaust and close packed bodies crowding the low stone wall for a better view of the breath taking vista.  For all the world it seemed like we were just part of that crowd, another couple stopping off to stretch their legs and appreciate the beauty on display.  That wasn't the case of course.

When we had turned to face my raised phone it wasn't to capture a selfie.  It was so she could see I'd pulled up the remote app.  There was no surprise when the toy rumbled to life.  Buzzing excitedly in sharp jolts before settling down to a steady pulsing rhythm as we turned to look out again.  I wrapped her in my arms, bottom hand wresting on her trembling stomach while the other thumb moved languidly along the screen.

Her breath came in short excited gasps as I leaned down to whisper in her ear.  Soft reassurances that the conversations and traffic covered any noise.  That it was just me and her.  Her tender warmth growing within my embrace.  That she was being so good.  Hiding the waves of pleasure pulsing up her spine.  Disguising the growing need building within her.  The excitement as my thumb moved faster and faster, speeding up and slowing down in peaks ever closer together.  Building only to back off before jamming the vibe into high gear.

I held her trembling body closer, supporting her as her knees grew weaker, smiling as I absently pointed at some random object as cover for whispering, "Good girl" into her ear.

She bit her lip and glanced up, "Can we go back to the car?"

The real question was obvious and after a quick kiss on the forehead I answered, "Its okay Raven, all the matters is you and me.  No one else but us.  All alone on this edge.  And I want you to CUM off it.."

Her entire body trembles as I slam into her.  Reckless.  Wild.  The hammering of her heart pushing feebly against my ever tightening grip.  She matches my squeeze with her own that demands I go deeper.  Each second leaves the carefully controlled frenzy a little less controlled.  She's helpless and overwhelmed, gasping for each sip of air I allow her.  I grow in pleasure and satisfaction as I take my prey, leaning over her and bearing down with all my strength.

My growl fills her ear, one resounding question, "Do you want to cum slut?"

"Yes..."  Is the ghost of a whisper that I cut off in quivering anticipation.

"I can't hear you."  I snarl my teeth taking my hands place on her neck.

"YES DADDY!"  She pleads in an ear piercing scream.

"I said the doors locked and you need to let me in."  Another voice drifts in from the window.

In times of stress I find the familiarity of routine soothing.  Checking all the various things I need to go out.  Just the basics; wallet, cellphone, keys, stove off, and sub on leash.

She's nervous, fidgeting.  Hands flinching as instinct tells her to cover her nakedness while the three angry red lines across her bum remind her not to.  Her eyes meet mine and for a second I feel her nervousness call to mine.  After all some annoyingly rational and mundane voice in my head is repeating that there are no innocent explanation for walking a naked girl on a leash.  Tamping down such thoughts, gnawing fears isn't easy but I do it.  I have to.  One slip and my resolve will break and dash the hopeful expectation creeping into her shy smile.  So I force confidence into my own smile and hand her the bag.  Her hands settle as she holds her clothing, toys, and everything else she needs for a weekend away in front of her.

My sweaty palms tighten on the coarse leather of the leash and I open the door.  Brilliant shafts of light dance about an open and perfectly manicured lawn.  Fifty feet of open ground between stoop and curb.  Breeze and sunlight playing across my sub's skin, making her normal tan lines stand out all the more as I pull her to a stop.  Resisting the impulse to rush I close and lock the door, stealing glances at her all the while.  Now my impish side is acting up, pushing away the earlier nerves with the sheer thrill of what we're doing.

My pace away from the door is careful.  Steady.  Completely unhurried.  The leash is slack, but she doesn't run into me.  For a moment we simply bask in the glory of a resplendent day.  At the curb I politely open the door for her, tempting her cover.  A sharp tug on the leash stops her bolting like a rabbit back down its hole.

Instead she looks up at the hawk and smiles, "Please sir, may I get in."

I smile and toss the leash inside.  She hits the seat before it does.  I take the bag from her, put it in the back and climb into the driver's seat.  The doors close and our nervous laughter fill the air.  Somehow my hand doesn't shake as I give her a reassuring squeeze on the knee.

"That was fun."  I chuckle.

"Fun?"  She scoffs shivering from my touch and nerves, "Terrifying.  What if the neighbors had seen?"

"They didn't."  I said confidently my hand sliding along her leg, "And I know you enjoyed that.  I can feel the proof..."

In pre-Elizabethan England it was held that any woman who wore just her shift to her wedding would not take her debts into marriage.  Probably because any woman confident enough to strut nearly naked into church before her friends, family and religious leader is not likely to be cowed by debt collectors.  Or because any woman willing to demonstrate so publicly that she can't afford a dress should be forgiven.

Regardless it is a lovely tradition, but don't be like my friend and suggest bringing it back to his fiance...