Greetings all. Although I've been a lurker for 6+ years,I've been unable to post because my only access has been through machines at work. Finally I've weaseled an outside account and can add my meager experience to the community.
I only wish Clay was still around.
I'd like to thank everyone here for the many hours of enjoymentand education that you've provided. When I first discoveredasb I was surprised and pleased to find a whole Usenet groupdevoted to what I had thought were my strange private kinks(I was pretty young at the time, and naive).
So thanks everyone, and I hope that I will be able tocontribute something useful or at least entertaining.
What follows is a story I've been working on. I've neverwritten anything for public consumption before, so I'manxious for any feedback on its quality or suggestions forimprovement. (Don't quit your day job!) If I'm notquickly vilified for wasting bandwidth with dreck I'llpost the rest of it.
And now, on with the show...
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master."
"Kneel... spread your knees further apart... keep your backstraight... bow your head slightly... very good. Verynice. Now lock your hands behind your back. Very good."
"Thank you Master." A slight catch in her voice, she wasnervous. Inside my abdomen it seemed that something warmhad rolled around itself.
"Now I'm going to blindfold you."
"Yes, Master."
I wrapped the white silk around her head; it contrastedbeautifully with her curls of jet black hair. As I wound the smooth, cool fabric around her head I worried thatshe would be able to see through it. That would showweakness, inexperience.
"Can you see, Amy?"
"No, Master."
I flicked my hand towards her face -- no reaction. Theliquid white silk was magnificent against her hair and shadowed skin; her lips were slightly open, and she trembled very slightly as her chest rose and fell.The silence grew, and so did her trembling, until she started to open her mouth to speak.
"Don't forget the rules, Amy."
"I'm sorry Master."
And the trembling had stopped; she seemed to raise her heada little, perhaps ashamed of her weakness.
"Are you ready to be bound, slave?"
She started. The tip of her tongue slipped out tocaress her lower lip, and she moved her head to one sideslightly. I knew she was embarrassed to hear these wordsspoken, but they held a shameful, exciting mystery for her.In her interest in submission she had reminded me of a caton the street, hovering near, wanting to be stroked butready to dart away at a quick move. And yet, she returnedagain and again to the subject, asking why I was interestedand why anyone -- meaning me, in her insular way -- wouldallow themself to be degraded so. Searching for the wordsthat would allow her rational mind to justify indulgence ofher passion. I still don't know what it was thattipped the balance; one Saturday over a late breakfast shehad mentioned casually that she would like to stay over onenight and "try some of those things, you know, the ones wetalked about." And then a blush as I nodded.
She raised herself slightly and took a slow breath, thenanswered.
"Yes, Master."
"Ask me."
"What?", forgetting herself for a moment. Silence seepedbetween us again.
"What, Master?"
I remained silent.
"Master, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
I let the silence grow, as her trembling began again.
I spoke softly: "Ask me."
She drew in her breath a little and raised herself once more.
"Master, please tie me up."
Silence.
"I'm sorry Master, I'm nervous, I forgot. Master, pleasebind me."
"Bind you how?"
Again, embarrassed silence, and then quietly:
"Bind my hands, Master, behind my back."
"Lie on the floor, Amy." She let herself relax from herproud kneeling position and then bent at the waist, raisingher bottom into the air as her chest sank to the floor.
We had agreed that despite the possibility of friction burnswe would use rope; it was her choice -- I think the textureexcited her -- but I too was pleased with her taste. Ifolded her arms behind her back so that the forearms wereparallel, wrists touching elbows. Three ropes, each woundfour or six times, one for the center and one around eachwrist, holding it tight to the elbow. Tight enough for herto feel, but not digging in. Again, I stood back a little,lighting myself a cigarette, and looked at her. The light,pleated skirt hung halfway down the back of her thighs, riding just highly enough to entice. Her arms were goldenagainst the black blouse, wound with the creamy white rope,flexing gently as she tried her bonds. I was the one who should have been trembling.
"Sit up, Amy. You look uncomfortable."
"Yes, Master." "Actually that was quite comfortable."
I slowly walked around her until I was facing her again.
"Oh really? Well I'll remember that. It certainly lookednice enough."
"Thank you Master."
"You're welcome, tease. Are you ready for your collar."
The flush again.
"Yes Master."
I was finding that flush rather stimulating, and starting towonder whether I'd have the strength to resist her for long.It was one of those no-lose situations in which I findmyself far too rarely. I reached around behind her neck and fluffed out her hair so that it cascaded around her shoulders.
She was trembling again, slightly, so I waited. Her tonguedarted between her lipstick reddened lips, touching themslightly with a flash of perfect white teeth.
"Master?"
Silence.
"Master, did I do something wrong."
"No, Amy."
I waited.
"Master, I am ready for the collar."
"No, Amy, I don't think so."
Silence, again, spreading between us.
"Yes, Master, please."
"You're ready for which collar, Amy?"
A pause, and then realization. The flush again, this timeapparent even against her bronze cheeks.
"My collar, Master. I am ready to wear my collar now."
Again she had raised herself, lifting her head higher. Itseemed she summoned her courage that way, her anticipationfighting her embarrassment.
Sharply: "Head down."
She jerked, and lowered her head.
"Better. Now ask again, properly."
"Please Master, I would like to wear my collar now."
I lifted the collar from the couch and knelt in front ofher. She flinched slightly as the cool leather touched herthroat, but stilled herself as I buckled it behind her.
I stood and walked behind her, picking up a short leatherstrap, and again knelt, this time behind her. I wrapped thestrap around her forearms and fastened the buckle, thenlifted a length of chain from the table. It rattled againstthe glass top and she jumped again. I smiled and padlockedit to the strap's buckle, then pulled her arms up until shetightened against the pressure.
"Relax," as I lowered it slightly. Is that comfortable?"
"Yes, Master, that's better."
I gave the strap a jerk upwards again, and she voiced a tinygasp, arching her back further, but then relaxed slightly,her breathing a little faster, as I released the tension abit. I locked the top end of the strap to the ring on theback of her collar. Her arms were pulled up now, forcingher back to arch and her chest to push out. As I moved,kneeling, around to her left side I saw the black silk ofher blouse pulled across her breasts, and even through thebra beneath her nipples were visible as slight mounds. Likethe tip of a snooker queue, I remember incongruously thinking.
"You look lovely, Amy. Are you still comfortable?"
"Yes, Master."
A pause: she looked as though she was about to speak. Imoved my hand so that it hovered over her left nipple.
"Master, " she began, and I took her nipple between my thumband forefinger and squeezed, quickly increasing the pressureuntil a gasp of pain broke her sentence. She flinched away,almost overbalancing, but with my right hand I seized thestrap where it met her collar and pulled her back towardsme. I took her nipple again and squeezed, slowly increasingthe pressure until she seemed about to protest and thendecreasing it. I watched her face, fascinated and arousedby her unabashed, passionate expressions, as I squeezed andreleased repeatedly.
I noticed that I had unconsciously pulled her closer withthe strap, and this time as I relaxed my pinching fingers Ileaned forward slightly, and smelling the perfume of hercurly black hair whispered into her ear:
"Are you still nervous?"
Her breathing was heavier and she again shivered, startingto turn towards my voice as I spoke. I squeezed until hermouth parted and her cheeks tightened.
"No, Master."
"Why did you break the rules, then?"
"I forgot, Master. I'm not very good at..." and she tailedoff into a surprised gasp as I pinched harder.
"That kind of negative talk just isn't necessary, is it?"
Her speech was slightly breathy now, and a little tremulous:"No Master, I'm sorry."
"You deserved to be punished, didn't you?"
She was calming a little, and I relaxed my grip on hercollar strap slightly.
"Yes, Master."
I squeezed again and pulled her towards me, until her headtilted back and her lips fell open. She moaned a littlenow, as I maintained the pressure and moved my fingers in aslight circular motion.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Master, I deserved to be punished."
I squeezed harder again, suddenly, and she yelped and triedto pull away, but before she could I had released her.
Intermission (brownies in the lobby).-- ÿ