Indecipherable Scrawlings

She stands on the threshold.  In the threshold technically, but the wide archway between two brilliantly sunlight rooms has been transformed.  Taught ropes trail from hidden eyelets to give her the aspect of an eager ready for flight.  She strains against the restraints not out of discomfort but because she wants to curl and flex in response to be buzzing vibrator that bounces against it's securing tape to kiss an already electrified clit.  But mostly she'd like to look behind her to see what I am doing.

For a moment I merely enjoy the view.  Drink in the glistening skin and luxurious hair drawn into a tight bun, while sparing time to properly appreciate the curves of her ass.  I step forward, silently and reach out reveling how the flickering light adds shadows to her wonders.  The first drop of wax hits her shoulder and she yelps in surprise.  She purrs at the next.  Quickly allowing herself to enjoy the warm cloying rain slowly tracing down her back.  The shower continues until she no longer flexes away from the hot drops the I pool some wax in my hands.  Reaching out I run that hand around her neck, the other carefully snuffing out the candle I place on the table.  She leans into the heat as my fingers wrap around her slender throat, firmly pulling back her head, the wax quickly binding us together.  Leaning forward around her I kiss eager lips.

That kiss muffles a scream as I plant the ice cube on the nape of her neck.  Our combined heat melting it quickly as I trace her spine.  Rivulets of cold water running down, drawn naturally into her ass as she starts to strain more.

Breaking our kiss I replace my tongue with the melting ice chip.  And new one appears as I knell, nose suddenly filled with her scent this time I do not stop with her spine I move lower.  My hand washed when ice water as I trace the lips of her pussy.  Her heat too much for the poor ice and it fades away.  Unlike my ardor.  I need her now.

Finders raking up her sides I reach around her.  Nails dragging up, leading hands to swallow tender breasts.  Rough motions rolling hard nipples.  I follow my arms, into a vaguely uncomfortable position,  but I don't care.  I slam into her.  Lingering ice water giving way completely to the furnace inside her.

There is no gentleness in my actions, I am beyond the capacity for that.  I need this as much as she wants this.  Her breathing already ragged takes on a desperate eager.  But the third shuddering thrust she is repeating "please".  Turning the only coherent word in her question into a mantra.  A prayer.

I answer it, "Cum for me."

The concrete is rough and unfinished, a thousand little needles pushing into soft and welcoming flesh.  Strands of the finest silk enwrap limbs in a grip of iron.  Fatigued limbs trembling with the effort not to release their burden onto a support presses sharply into her most intimate folds.  Buzzing fills the air as our ragged breathing thunders and yet all is silent between us.  A thousand distractions call for her attention but there is only one thing in her mind.  Her eyes follow the arm already feeling the leather tails.

It is the hardest blow but my softest kiss.

My kiss spoke only of need.

It had been a long day.  One interspersed with flirtatious smiles, entendres, and fleeting touches.  I had teased and smiled as I saw the blush rose in her cheeks, but that was all a slow careful chase.  When her lips brushed against my ears as she offered up a single husky prayer of, "please" it became something else.

My hands pinned her neck my lips found hers and I devoured her.  It was a kiss I was not willing to relinquish even as it frustrated my attempts to remove her blouse.  The sound of tearing cloth announced my direct and highly simple solution to that minor development.  I continue to strip her as I drive her back against the counter, using its solid edge to help pull away her pants as I lift her.  Its nothing to lift her, though she squeals with excitement.  She reaches for my belt as I move my fingers dig deep into her supple ass, but I stop her.  I am enjoying the feel of her against me, how she is burning with need.  Allowed to melt into that delightful little slut she has to keep tucked away.  Eager to be taken.  Claimed.

And I want the world to see what a wonderful creature she is.

I don't give her a chance to wonder why I'm not just taking her on the counter.  I carefully (or as careful as any man splitting his attention between a naked woman, a hungry kiss, and navigating a room blind) make my way to the window.  She gasps the cold glass touches her back.  I spin her and for a moment she looks at the distant lights twinkling across the bay.  Then she groans as I wind my hand into her hair, taking a fist full and pushing her into the glass.  Pressing myself into her.  The glass fogging as out heat drives away the cold.  My free hand reaches down to guide me into her, then painfully smacks into window as I drive forward.  My need has a new outlet and I do not take my time.  Each thrust threatens the thick windows as I force us together.

Growling out pleasure as I explain just how perfect she is for this.  The whispered suggest that someone might actually see us brings a particularly large spasm.  I go on,  About how I don't care.  Let them watch I say.  Let them see and be jealous of my wonderful little whore.  An instrument of pure pleasure.  So obedient.  So sweet.  So eager.  So welcoming.  So ready.  So frantic.  So naughty.

Yanking back on her hair I stare into desperate, questioning eyes.  Snarling a smile I give her what she wants.  Her favorite command before covering her screaming finish with my mouth.

Drowning it in a needy kiss.

Our bodies press together to shut out the cold wind.  An instant fire kindled between us as I lean down to kiss her.  It is fierce, passionate, and very hungry.  We both clearly need more.

Grabbing her hand I head off the trail we'd been following.  Avoiding snow laden branches as I follow the hill down.  Trusting the pines for cover as we slide into a clearing hidden in dead ground.  I toss down my jacket and turn to lift hers before I pull away her belt.  The soft looped leather rounds her wrists as I tie them behind her back.  Turning her back around we share a smiling kiss before I push her down.

She lies back on my coat.  Squirming as I push my fingers up under her shirt, raking my nails gently back down her stomach.  My lips follow, warm kisses combating the airs chilly embrace as I move down.  I unsnap her jeans and tug them off.  I now kiss my way back up.  Tasting strawberry and sweat as the smell of her fill my nose.  My fingers dig in pushing her thighs open.  My lips find her.  My tongue darts in.  Teeth raking along opening lips.  Working my way up till my breath washes over her clit, my mouth slowly descending.

Then she screams.

The handful of snow painfully unexpected and cold.  So very cold...

"You can scream all you want,the neighbors will never hear you."

Of course only after I hit send did I realized that anyone else reading the message might find it slightly...suspicious.

She slowly engulfs me.  Lowering herself just enough to take my head before raising herself up and drawing me along her slit.  A pattern she repeats while enjoying my unaccustomed stillness.  Smiling down at the look of careful control stretched across my face.  Watching my internal battle against the fervent desire to be finally inside her, pure animal lust, and most of all the fundamental desire to simply take things into my hands and bring them to the conclusion I most desire.  But it is a battle I am winning.  There is a beast raging to get loose and consume the delectable morsel teasing me from above, but I put it away, knowing patience will feed the beast more surely then aggression.  My control augmented by the sight of my personal Aphrodite, already sheen with excitement, slowly losing herself to the need with both feel.

Nor is she the only one that knows how to tease.  My hand not keeping myself aligned with her ghosts up her flank, fingers drinking in her silken skin.  Reaching up for the beautiful breasts hanging so tantalizing before me.  She gasps as my nails begin to lightly trace her curves, her reaction making me twitch just inside her.  It is when my fingers brush over her nipples that she loses interest in teasing and lowers herself onto me.  My other hand joins the first as she begins to raise and lower herself.

I let her set the pace as my touching takes on strength.  As she gently rides me I have a good gauge of what draws the best reaction from her.  I follow up more insistently and am rewarded, which only drives her hips to move faster.  Then I join in.  Moving my hips in perfect opposition to hers, still letting her set the pace.  My hands drifting down to support her more directly as careful movements become more frantic.  Growing only more frenzied as strangled moans fit against the gag whose fake cock tickles her throat.  The muscles in her shoulders flex as she struggles against the bonds trapping her arms behind her.  And it is then the rhythm changes.

No longer am cooperating with her.  I am driving her up, my supportive hands dragging her down.  I use my hip to set a beat more appropriate to our moods.  A song of the beast given just a little leash.  But more is needed.

A hand comes up as I sit up, its first explorations guiding it but now it mauls at her tits.  Strong fingers pushing deep into wonderfully yielding flesh taking a nipple pulsing with need between them.  Pinching down as my teeth reach the other.  There is a strangle scream of pleasure as my other hand pins our hips, lust grinding them together more than any command.  The pinning hand caress out over an ass already tender from a more straightforward beginning.  It gently traces sensitive spots and warm impressions it had left behind.  A sensation lost as I nibble and pinch.  Those nibbles become full on bites before I suddenly draw away.  My hand slams across both ravished breasts as a finger sinks to the knuckle in her ass, probing for my throbbing cock through her.  Both hands work together to force her to restart the rhythm, to draw away only to be pulled back.  Her eyes roll back, her face flushed, moans constant as she rides me like an unbroken horse.

Yet at this moment I feel a strange calm, a complete control.  Knowing each movement must be careful, must serve the end I have designed.  That does not mean I am not filled with need.  Burning with desire.  It is just that I know it is the quickest way to slake both as I slide a second finger into her.  Speed I need as control is rapidly slipping away, and there is no way I could think of baseball now.

So I give in and unleash my strength.  Lifting her completely and more impressively myself buried inside her.  Turning her about and slamming her back onto the bed.  One long stroke withdrawing me from her warm and tender embrace and plunging me into another so recently left by my fingers.  I take one stroke to hook her legs then I refill her pussy with my other hand.  And now all is rushing to the end.  Desire and pleasure burn away at carefully shepherded control.  I am no more articulate then her as my body begins to tremble with hers.  Urges piling up to not be ignore.

Bursting forth in a torrent.  Leaving my mind a buzzing field of white.

Only vaguely am I aware that I have fallen.  Somehow managing to disentangle ourselves before collapsing next to her.  My body both afire and completely numb as I gasp for air, even that sound denied by the hammering of my heart in my ears.  It is only the insistent jabbing of duty that reminds me I must clean my hands and undue the restraints.  Managing that herculean task I slump at take her into exhausted arms.

As we drift into an exhausted sleep I murmur into her messy hair, "See?  I told you I'd let in you be in charge for once."

It feels strangely sacrilegious to take such silken flesh beneath the coarse callouses of my hands.  The delicate curve fitting almost perfectly into my hand as the first tentative pressure brings a final lingering gasp.  A light grasp that nevertheless represents a complete blockage to the vainly fluttering lungs.  The panicked heart beats futilely against my ever closing grip, pounding just beneath the velveteen skin as my fingers deepen their desecration.  And yet at this moment of seeming savagery I find myself at my most tender.

I find myself engrossed with her below me.  I see every twitch, spasm, blink.  Watching for the slightest hint of danger, more like an attentive watch dog then the fierce predator my grin emulates.  Her life rests literally in my hand, which like never before feels like a crude instrument even if wielded with consummate skill.  My heart hammers with hers even as I loosen my grip.  Allowing her to fill her lungs as I fill her.  I tighten my grip.  On her, on the simple animal lust that rages against my control.  And it is that control that makes this grip so exciting to us both despite the dangers.

That I can control the desire to break this fragile, precious thing below me.  That she knows I will only hold her so tight no matter how much she begs for more or wishes the dark reminders to last longer.  That I care more for her than my pleasure, or hers.  That every sip of air is not the last no matter how much it seems that way.  A shared illusion turning every breath into a gift.

So much all wrapped in a single act.

I was asked recently what it means to me to have a but of a sadistic side.  After some thought I came up with the below:

"Sometimes I grow tired of being polite, conscientious, and considerate.  Put away the facade of propriety and let loose.  To tear, to bite, to pin, and to overwhelm utterly as I give form to those delightfully dark whispers.  Forcing my deviant desires onto the world.  Taking every inch I can and growling for more.  Indulging that insatiable hunger that quests to do more, try more, take more.  Until every effort is spent and there is only the soft exhausted buzzing fluttering about my mind and she is nothing but a quivering inarticulate mess of ravished satisfaction.

That and I'm very fond of how most bottoms react to my hand hitting them in a variety of ways."

I was talking over role play (the kinky kind) experiences with a friend recently.  Between us we had done most of the usual things; doctor, gladiator, interrogator, etc and enjoyed them.  Eventually the conversation meandered to things we wouldn't feel comfortable doing and I brought up an idea myself and an ex had been working on.  One in which I'd play the dark wizard with a maiden strapped to an altar ready to be sacrificed to bring about a dark god.  A nice large pentagram, some candles, and a suitably dark basement would complete the scene nicely.  A scene I had completely rejected.

My friend was confused by this, it sounded like a lot of fun to him.  Until that is I explained my reasoning:

Because that is how horror movies start.

Its the only day of the year you can leave the whips and chains lying around and people will think you're a sharp decorator instead of sexual deviant.