The man was a classic dork looking character. Around the mid-forties, wearing a white long sleeve shirt, dark slacks, loafers, and argyle socks. About the only thing missing was a pocket protector. Though he may have had it hidden as not to scare off his apparent prey. Thin wispy hair was slicked back on his head, and he had a full set of natural horse choppers that were in full gleam.

The woman was about the same age. Stringy dirty blonde hair fell to her shoulders. She was wearing a red dress that must have been in her closet for a long time. And used during that time. It looked as if it graced her frame when she fit it a bit more flatteringly, and she just couldn't seem to part with it.

He faced her, and as he talked, his body language was all, "I want to take you home and peel you out of that dress cause I haven't been laid since Reagan was in office."

Her body language told me she might have mace in her purse and wasn't afraid to use it. Though, by the looks of her, she didn't need it and would probably make better use of it as a breath freshener.

I asked the Lady to take a look at the interaction and give me her take on it. She agreed with my assessment. Scholar Stud was into "prime-line" time and pushing for a hook. And Grammar Girl was doing the "one-cheek sneak" off the far end of her barstool. But, as the beer flowed and conversation continued, things changed.

GG moved more and more onto her stool, and closer to SS. Whether it was due to her butt going numb (that happens when you put a lot of weight on a small area of skin), him breaking down her defenses, or the fact that she realized she hadn't been laid since the Reagan era as well, I don't know. Neither wore a ring or had a cheaters tan, so it would be safe to assume they were both available. And after looking at them, no other option came to mind.

Before long, he was tapping her shoulder as he made his animated comments. Then it was a lingering touch to the arm. Next thing I knew, they were touching each other, her hand was reaching out for his upper arm. And his stayed on hers.

I was distracted by the arrival of our food at that time. When I next looked at them, his hand was propped on his knee, and hers slid down his arm and came to rest on his thigh. He responded to this contact by sliding his hand over to the union of her thigh and hip. Which wasn't much of a jump as his knee was touching her leg by now.

I guessed all thoughts of that can of mace were long forgotten by those two. And replaced by the thought that they were both going to get lucky.

Possibly, all those happy thoughts were to get crushed. Another teacher, appearing to be in his late 20's sat down next to them. Noticing they were teachers as well, he struck up, or snuck into, a conversation with them.

All smiles and happy looks vanished with the introduction of the interloper. The tone of the chatting turned semi-professional. As it went on though, it was beginning to look like there might have been the thoughts of a three-some. Considering how much GG and SS drank, Young Teach might have been what would end up being needed. Somehow, I don't think SS would be able to perform in his current condition.

To make matters a bit more confusing in our people watching, a young couple took seats just down from the Scholarly Sex Scene. They were a treat as well.

He had rusty red hair in quasi-dreadlocks, cargo shorts and some Headbanger T-shirt on. To complete his "grunge look", he also had a good-sized curved barbell piercing in the septum of his nose. Very classy, even for the Mod groups.

His girlfriend was wearing an oriental top and bottom. Long flowing, side slit, ornate silk dress. The top matched in color, design, and slit. Closed at the neck and bodice, but wide open from a couple inches below the armpits. It didn't help that one side was held closed by a button at the armpit, and a safety pin just a couple inches below. A bad attempt to make the two sides of the top match in structure. The girlfriend was also noticeably pregnant.

And though she may have been small built pre-pregnant, now her assets were most noticeable. I think ever guy in the place was waiting and praying for a "wardrobe malfunction". I know I was.

And the rest of her matched the geek she was with. Hair braided on each side, no makeup, a kind of pasty looking complexion, and going for that "young girl Earth Mother" look. Add to that the huge tribal tattoo she had on the outside of her calf. Yup, she and her man were a matched pair. But, if you got rid of the tat and the nose ring, you could have picked them up and dropped them off right in the middle of Woodstock from 40 years ago, and they would have vanished in the crowd.

If Young Teach hadn't showed up, or if that safety pin failed, what a show it would have been. Unfortunately, the Lady and I had to leave.

Maybe we'll get lucky at the next show.

At first, it was "Oh, I don't know about this story. This seems a bit over the top, doing it this way...Seems a little on the extreme side..." kind of discussion.

Then I got to thinking about what was said, and how it was said.

Hmmmm....

Her Master though, made her masturbate to climax before allowing her to relieve herself. A BIG incentive when your belly is swollen with a quart or two of soapy water. Not that the feat is undoable.

But to focus through the cramping that had to be happening, puckering your ass as hard as possible to hold the fluid in, and concentrating enough to actually bring yourself to climax, well...That takes a bit of dedication and practice, not to mention the total commitment to the submission. Easily put, Extreme Submission.

Nothing wrong with that.

The comments from the Lady, as I thought back on them, were not so much aimed towards the whole idea of having her backside filled, suffering the cramps, or holding the fluid. They were aimed more at the prospect of having to get off before being allowed relief from the internal pressure.

So, this weekend, my plan is to get her restrained and on her knees, with her ass aimed towards the ceiling. That should be easy enough. Then, using a simple enema bulb, administering a couple doses of plain, warm water. Let her feel the fluid gently fill her and work its magic.

This could be a very good thing in many ways. She loves to have her ass played with, and enjoys anal. And I am sure there have been times when this wasn't an option because of not feeling "very fresh". Now, freshness can be achieved easily along with another act of submission. That sounds like a win-win.

Plus, there is the added benefit that a good flush relieves tension by itself. With a hectic work schedule, this could be a nice way of getting relief twice in one session. I'm not seeing a down side to this.

The possibilities are there for some great times.

And since the Lady won't comment, though she does read this, she has permission to send a message sharing her take on the festivities waiting. I'm sure she will have that "deer in the headlight", or "rabbit turning the corner and running head long into a dog" look on her face as she reads this. Her thoughts will be frenzied over what to think about this and she will get wet wondering how to respond.

Sometimes she gets worked up, not knowing what is in store. Other times, the knowing does most of the work getting her wound up.

On the thought of "not knowing", I will share our last session later. For now, I'm sure, she has enough on her mind for the next day or so.

It is helpful to know these things, as she had still to ask for permission if she was serious about it.

She replied that, "Yes. Yes, she had been thinking about it." She talked for another minute or two about it, while I listened.

When she finished, I told her getting a tattoo was fine. That I look forward to her final decision. But, (and this got her attention) her first tattoo would have to be special.

I let her know that IF she decided to get one, the first one would be a Triskillion design. And, as she keeps herself shaved smooth, it was to be placed just above her slit. And, it would be no bigger than an inch, to an inch and a half, in diameter.

I would also find a copy of the design she would use.

We'll see.

"'Bout time you showed your face around here." She chided.

"Hard to share a cup of coffee on the phone. Got a pot on right now. It'll be ready in a couple minutes." With that, she led me into the kitchen. "So. What do you want me to make for you? You said you needed my expertise."

Maggie does custom cabinetry and wood working. I had called her for her skills with wood, a few days prior.

I set about explaining that I wanted a good wood, something that would take a bit of abuse and stay true. Something nice looking, but sturdy. She rattled off a bunch of different woods that fit my needs.

"Maggie, I trust your knowledge of timber." I assured her. "You figure out what will work best. I'll go get the drawings and specs I have from the truck."

"I'll have the coffee poured and waiting." She called after me.

When I returned from the truck with my backpack, she was true to her word. Two steaming cups of coffee sat on the table, waiting. Setting the pack down on the table, I pulled out my notebook. Opening it, I slid it over to her.

"Hmm, looks like a cricket bat. Need a strong wood for that. But, the dimensions look all wrong." She said the last part with a mix of curiosity. "And, in different sizes..."

"What are these for?"

"A gift for Dina."

"You're wife?"

"Yes."

"The hell kind of sport is she taking up now? The handles are all wrong for her hands." Maggie asked with a laugh.

"The paddles are for me. SHE, is the sport."

"Ex-cuse me?" Maggie looked at me slightly sideways, with a hint if fire in her eyes. "You BEAT your wife?!" She finished incredulously, slightly raising out of her chair.

"No. I do NOT beat her." I said, in a controlled tone I normally use during
play". Outside a close knit group, no one knows about the other side of Dina's and my relationship. I would have to explain it to Maggie. But, on my terms.

"Maggie, sit down while I explain this to you." The darkness falling over my eyes, and my commanding tone, set her back down. "I am the Master, and Dina is a slave. We have a Master/slave relationship, and that works on the exchange of 'power'. Dina gives me the 'power' to be her Master. I can do nothing, without her allowing it."

"Outside, at work, she is an independent, rock solid, in-command, self-reliant leader. At home though, with me, she gives all her control away. She allows me to be in control of every part of her."

"And because she gives me that power, that control, I command her, I am her Master. And when she misbehaves, or doesn't follow orders, or is just generally being cranky or bitchy, it is up to me to rebuke and discipline her. She finds that a great aphrodisiac."

"Hence, the paddles. She tends to need discipline on a regular basis."

I could see Maggie digesting the whole relationship involved. Not easy to do when the person you knew, is not the person you now know. "Maggie, do you trust me?"

In the course of heartbeats, a war was waged, and won, in her head. "Sure. Always have, always will." Then with narrowed eyes, she asked, "Why?"

"Let me show something to you."

"What?"

"Follow me." I said. Then, reaching into my pack, I pull out a short bit of rope I always keep handy. After all, you never know when you'll need it. And I led her to the dining area just off the kitchen, a total of ten feet away from where we just sat.

Standing there, looking at the rope, then at me, she asked, "Okay. Now what?"

I spun one of her straight-backed chairs around to face the kitchen area. "Sit." I commanded, in a gentle tone. Still looking at me, she sat down.

"You trust me not to hurt you, right?" She nodded a little hesitantly. "Good. Put your hands behind your back and don't move." When she did, I wrapped the rope loosely around both of her wrists and tied it off.

She questioned me with her eyes.

"First, I am going to show you something. Then, I plan on talking to you"

I put my fingertips on her arms, at her elbows. "Now, close your eyes, and keep them closed. If what I am doing gets too out of control for you, and it will test you, then say your first two names, completely. That is your 'safe word'. You say that, I stop everything, untie your wrists, and leave. Understood?"

She licks her lips nervously. "Yes," she replies.

"Good. Now I am going to move my fingers up your arms." And as I say those words, I slowly trace upwards with my fingers. Goosebumps break out on her arms and a light shiver chases through her.

"With butterfly-wing kisses, I am going to trace your face." And I do. Bringing my finger tips up her neck, and around the outsides of her ears, and across her forehead. I lift my fingers off at the top of her face.

"Nervous?"

"A little."

"That's fine. Just remember your safe word."

Touching her sides with my fingers, just above her belt line, she jumps slightly. "Now. With a lighter touch than you felt already, I am running my fingers up your sides, towards your armpits." With the rib-knit shirt she is wearing, I can see the muscles in her sides expand as she takes a deep breath of air. Her back arches slightly and she pushes her chest forward from the effort.

"Now I am tracing the edge of your bra. Up to the top and down the center. Now across the bottom to the outer edge. I am going back to the top and bringing my fingers down to your nipples. Circling them ever so lightly and now dragging my nail straight across them."

In spite her small breasts and padded bra, the outlines of her nipples were clearly visible. Maggie's breathing was labored as well.

"Still okay?" I asked.

After licking her lips and swallowing, she replied in a husky tone, "I'm fine".

"Good. I'm going to touch your knees now." And I brought my fingers to the outsides of her knees. "I'm going to bring them to the insides of your knees and push them apart. Remember your safe word?"

"Yes." She replied a bit breathy.

I pushed on her knees until her legs were fairly wide apart. "I am tracing your inseam with angel light pressure. Up your thighs to your crotch. Ever so gently. Now I am dragging my fingernail up and down your crotch seam. Feel the vibrations there?"

"Yes," she gasped. Her body was starting to shiver visibly. The start of the first letter of her name was on her lips. But Maggie never completed it.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes." The word came out explosively. Maggie was starting to pant a little for air.

"Do you need to use your safe word?"

"No." Then, after a moments hesitation, "How much more is there?"

"A little bit. Then we're done. Are your excited?"

"Yes."

"Well then. We're almost there. While I'm scratching on your inseam, I'm going to bring my other hand up to your side and trace back up to your chest."

I touched her side, just above the belt line, again. "Feel my fingers tracing back up to your breast. Straight across from the side this time. I don't think you need me to take the scenic route around your bra. Feather light and ticklish, I go up your side and across to your nipple."

Maggie's breathing is ragged now. Licking her lips and panting, her body is trembling of its own accord, the excitement level has gotten so high.

"Maggie? Open your eyes." I tell her.

As she does, it takes her a moment to focus, between the haze of her excitement, and the sudden burst of light after keeping her eyes closed for so long. When she does focus, she sees me sitting in the kitchen, my legs crossed and the cup of coffee in my hands. Confused, she blinks several times and shakes her head. I stand and move the chair closer to her, and sit back down.

"You and Dina are a lot alike. You're both head-strong, independent people, that need a Master; someone to share power with."

"You've had a dozen serious relationships and a couple marriages. Every one ended the same, physical, emotional and mental abuse. You try to give them the power to control you, and they take it. They don't share though. And when you try to back them off when they push too far, they still can't stop taking. They do not have the control, so they end up hurting you. What you've ended up finding, is bullies, not Masters."

"While you were sitting here, after touching your arms and face, I only touched you here, here, and here." Touching her on the waist, on the knees, and one last time on the waist. "No where else. The rest of the time, I only talked to you and enjoyed the coffee."

Surprise and confusion battled on Maggie's face, trying to absorb the events that happened. And as the war raged on, I untied her wrists and dropped the rope back into the backpack.

Turning, I looked at her. "That's, what a Master can do for you. Think about it."

Picking up the pack, I opened the door and reached outside. I pulled my arm back in and deposited two rolls of wrapping paper against the wall. One was black, with white handcuffs, whips, and stockades printed on it. The other was the negative image of the first.

Over my shoulder, I told Maggie, "Have them done, wrapped and delivered by late morning, next Saturday. The prints and sketches are on the table, along with enough to cover the material and expenses. See you then."

And I left.

to be continued...

The corset, well...that was a treat for me.

I linked her ankle cuffs together and then her wrist cuffs. I left her hands in front of her as she would need them. Taking a length of rope, I tied one end to the clip on her wrists, laced it through an "eyelet", then brought the rope between her legs, up to her collar and through the ring in back, then back down to her ankles. Once at her ankles, I finished the preparation.

The "eyelet" is on a vibrator. With the rope in place, I slid the vibrator part way in her pussy. "Hold that right where it is." I commanded.

"Yes, Sir." She replied.

With the vibrator in place, and held to my satisfaction, I took up the slack in the rope and tied it to her ankle cuffs. Dropping a blindfold in place over her eyes, I straightened up. "Enjoy. But not TOO much. I'll be back after I wash up." I directed, before heading off to the bathroom. Lady would have several minutes to "not enjoy, TOO much" before I returned.

Returning, I could see her visibly shaking from the combined torment of kneeling for so long, and the affect the vibrator was having on her. Standing in front of her, I only had to press my cock head to her lips. She jumped from the sudden touch, not being able to see it coming. The jump forced the ropes tight and in turn forced the vibrator deeper inside her.

Lady knew what was expected of her and parted her lips. Taking me deeply into her mouth, she wrapped her lips around my shaft and started to deliver the start of a stellar blowjob. With each bob of her head, the rope pulled tight and drove the vibrating phallus deep inside. Though her hands mostly controlled the action in her pussy, her oral delivery caused the toy to ream her deeper than she normally would. Its affect was very evident.

Lady was working at a fever pitch when suddenly her jaw went slack and she let out a long moan around my shaft. After shuddering for several seconds, her lips closed around me again. Though she tried to act like nothing happened, I knew better.

I pulled out of her mouth. "Did I give you permission to cum!?"

Sputtering for a second from the sudden lack of mouth filling and the force behind the question, she responded, "No....Sir. You didn't."

"Did you tell me you were going to!? Or, ASK for permission!?"

Trembling, "No, Sir."

"No. You didn't. You know what that means." It wasn't a question, and she knew it.

"Yes, Sir."

Untying the rope at her ankles, I pulled it through all the other rings and such, with one smooth motion. It pulled her hands upward and I untied them as well. I helped her to her feet as her legs were weak from kneeling for so long and I directed her onto the bed.

"Back on your knees and bring those hands to your ankles." With her face down in the pillows and her ass in the air, I clipped her left wrist to her left ankle, and the right to the right.

"Spread your legs for me." I barked, and she responded. "You want to CUM!?"

"Yes, Sir." Her voice quavering slightly.

"Fine! Then you shall. But not till I give you permission. UNDERSTOOD?!"

"Yes, Sir." She squeaked, not sure what would happen next.

While having this conversation, I grabbed a bottle of lube and a medium butt-plug from the bedside table. Pouring a generous amount of the slippery stuff on two of my fingers, I applied it to her upturned ass. Running my fingers around her pucker to get it nice and slippery. Though she gasped at the sudden cold of the lube, she didn't protest.

I easily slipped one finger inside her. After working it around and loosening her up, I slipped the other in to join the first. When she was sufficiently relaxed, I slid them out and applied the plug to her opening. Though relaxed, the plug met some resistance. With steady, slow pressure, her sphincter finally gave in and let the invader through. Lady let out a sigh as the plug seated inside her tight ring.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir." She replied, dreamily.

"Good. Then you'll like this as well." And at that, I unclipped a wrist from the ankle cuff. Handing her the vibrator again, I told her, "Now get yourself off again. But this time don't cum until you ask for permission, and get it. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

Taking the vibrator, Lady applied it to her swollen, wet lips. Working it around in circles, she grazed her sensitive clit. Jerking from the sudden jolt, her free leg shot out and almost caused her to tumble to the mattress. Recovering, she went back to circling her lips. Before long, she was working it back inside her, going deeper with each stroke.

During this, Lady never noticed me steal away and return to the bedside.

Her breath was coming in short gasps, and a sheen of sweat was forming on her body. She was getting close to her climax. Let's see if she remembers...

"Sir...I'm almost there. May I cum?"

"No." I replied. "But keep asking."

"Ooohhh..." She moaned her displeasure.

"Please, Sir? I'm close..."

"No." And with that, I brought down the crop I retrieved when she had started with the vibrator.

*WHACK* A nice red streak started raising on her left cheek.

"Still close?" I asked.

"Nooooo." She fairly wailed.

"Keep me informed. Don't forget."

After a couple minutes, she asked again as the memory of the crop and the stripe across her ass was forgotten. "I'm getting close. May I?"

*WHACK* "No."

"Oooo..."

And on it went. Each time she asked, she got a slap from the crop to take her mind off her impending orgasm. After twenty strokes though, I put down the crop.

"S-i-i-i-r-r-r-r....Please...!" Came her last request.

"No." This time, I took her hand and pulled the vibrator out of her. She moaned, and tears could be heard in the wail.

With the vibrator out of the way, I grabbed the edge of the butt-plug and gently pulled it from her. Setting it on the table, I then undid the clip on her other ankle to release her other wrist. Freed, Lady slipped belly-down on the bed, her body still humming the unreleased orgasm.

Rolling her over, I hooked her ankles over my shoulders and moved over her. With just the head of my cock at her opening, I looked down at her and asked, "Do you want to cum?'

"Yessss!!" She wailed.

"Is this doing it for you?" I teased.

"Nooooo!" She wailed again.

"What do you want?" I couldn't resist one last tease.

"I want you inside me." She pouted almost in tears again.

"Very well, then."

And with that, I let my weight drop, driving into her in one quick stroke. She bucked against me and let out a hiss that seemed to go on long after I thought she would be out of air. Then I started pounding into her in earnest.

In no time, she was yelling for permission to cum. I was so turned on and excited from watching her, I was ready myself. I granted permission.

Despite the awkward position she was in, and the abuse her arms and legs had already been through, she arched her back, and started slamming back onto me. Slapping sounds filled the room and my ears. In just a couple strokes she was screaming her release. And I was right there with her.

Afterwards, I got out of bed and left the room to take a shower. When I returned, Lady had removed her restraints and returned them to their proper place. She cleaned and returned the toys where they belong. And had cleaned herself up and was waiting in bed.

Slipping beneath the covers, I reached over end turned out the light. In the darkness, her voice came to me, "Thank you, Sir."

Smiling to myself, and to her, I replied, "You're welcome. You earned it."

Sleep came easy to both of us.

"Are you 'pretty'?" I asked, once she got a good look.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Remember that image." I said, before slipping the blindfold I held, over her head.

She moaned a protest as the piece of cloth eliminated her reflection.

With Lady's vision cut off, I guided her to the "Wall of Pain and Pleasure". This is the "play" wall. All the hardware we enjoy is mounted to this wall. Rings and brackets are mounted at various heights for restraint, and there is even a section of adjustable banister that is used like a dancing bar for stretching.

The section of wall I chose, had only a single ring mounted high up on it. I had Lady stand with her back to the wall for the moment. During that time, I wrapped a collar around her neck and secured it. Once I was satisfied with the fit, making sure it moved freely and couldn't restrict her breathing, I left her for a moment to retrieve some rope, another short spreader bar, and a bit gag.

Returning, I surveyed the picture before me, already deciding how to best continue.

Letting her know she had to be quiet, I affixed the bit gag in her mouth, tying it behind her head. Then I made her spread her legs until the spreader bar would fit to the rings on her thigh cuffs. This would allow movement of her lower legs yet still keeps her spread open for what was coming next.

Taking the rope, I threaded one end of it through the back ring on her collar. Pulling it mid-way through, I took the two ends and brought them down her back and underneath her crotch. From there, they traveled up her torso, where I laced them under both sets of ropes between her tits. Bringing them back down, I laced them up under the ropes again. Making a loop around the rope "bra" she wore. From there they traveled up to the ring in the Wall, then back down to the cuffs on her wrists.

Before pulling the rope snug, I reached between her legs to make sure it was positioned properly between her lips, and that all the slack was taken up. Satisfied it was, I moved her feet till they touched the base of the wall. Then, I snugged, and tied the rope ends together at her wrists.

In this position, she couldn't lower her hands, or bend her knees without tightening the rope loops around her tits, or pulling the rope tight against her crotch.

Lady has been in this position before, minus the "bondage bra", of course. And has loved it. The rope we use is a tight, braid nylon, that slips easily yet will hold a knot that doesn't take a knife to remove it. Previously in this position, she has been able to get enough friction and pressure by lowering her hands, or bending her legs, to achieve climax. But, like I said, that was without the "bra".

The first new thing she realized was, if she moved her arms or legs, the loop in the rope tightened up the "bra", causing it to squeeze her tits even harder, and apply almost more pressure than she could stand. The next thing she noticed was, with the added squeeze already there, she couldn't keep her nipples from rubbing against the Wall.

I watched her squirm for a couple minutes as she figured this out. Her perplexity was pure pleasure.

Patting her on the ass, (which caused her to jump, and momentarily, but painfully, tighten the loop), I whispered in her ear, "Now, for your spanking."

She whimpered a half-hearted protest at the thought of being spanked like this. Like I said, she has achieved climax like this before, so I didn't have reason to believe her.

While most of our hardware is kept in an armoire off to the side, the whips, paddles, floggers, canes, bats, crops, and other hardware, like chains, were hanging close by, on their own hooks on the Wall. I wasn't going for "push" from a paddle, or pain from a whip or cane. I was going for "sting", so I chose a medium-wide headed crop.

Giving it a few good flicks from the wrist to make sure it was supple like I wanted, it made a nice sound cutting the air. The sound was not lost on Lady. She heard it loud and clear, knew just what was coming, and again weakly whimpered a protest. It fell on deaf ears.

I started slowly. Just a tap on each ass cheek. Instinctively, she tried to lower her hands and bend her legs. Both movements put the squeeze on her chest. And each time I made contact, she'd yelp from the blow, then from the pressure on her chest, then from the contact her nipples made with the Wall.

As the force and frequency increased, her movements soon became more erratic. She found, despite the obvious pain, a rhythm that put pressure on her clit, friction to her lips and pussy, a squeeze on her tits and got her engorged nipples to rub the Wall.

By the time I got her ass and thighs glowing a bright and angry red, she was hammering into the Wall of her own volition. Slamming her crotch and pelvis into the Wall, while tugging on the ropes and rubbing her tits against it as well. It became obvious that she was on the brink of orgasm but the pain was keeping her from going over. If she kept this up, she would, despite all our cautions, hurt herself.

Dropping the crop, I reached up and pulled the release end of the knot, and the rope dropped. I quickly pulled the rope from the Wall ring and from around her body. Moving her towards the bed, I released the bit-gag from her mouth as she was moaning, babbling and drooling like a fool.

She still had the spreader bars on when her bloated and sensitive tits hit the mattress. She tried to push herself back up, as her feet were still on the floor, and "looked" (her blindfold was still on) over her shoulder and yelled, "Fuck me. Fuck me, NOW!"

I gave her a slap on her glowing cheeks, which drove her back into the bedding, "You...do not...give...ORDERS!"

"I need you inside me. NOW! Please..." She almost cried as she gave the request.

Dropping my pants, I lined up with her dripping sex and using the "bra" rope still wrapped around her back like a set of reins, I drove into her. She let out a guttural yell that made me think I should have left the gag in.

She went over the edge the moment I was buried in her. Holding onto the rope, I felt like a bull rider, "You only have to hang on for eight seconds."

She bucked and slammed back into me as I held on to the rope, dragging her sore nipples against the covers, and grinding her fiery ass against me. She clawed the sheets, and made noises that should have had the police, the forest rangers, and animal control banging on the door. Not to mention the neighbors.

With each new orgasmic wave washing through her, she tightened up, and spasmed around me enough that I was beginning to think eight seconds was a long time. I wasn't sure I was going to make it.

Just as I was going over the edge myself, she had one last monster orgasm. She clamped onto me hard enough to hold me, as she shuddered her way through it. And I held onto the rope to keep from falling off her back. When I was finished I slumped over her back.

I had regained my composure while she was still recovering. Taking the opportunity, I unhooked the spreader on her arms, then did the same to her thigh cuffs. I undid the knots on her "bra" next. And when she was able to move again, I helped unravel her from the ropes. Then let her use the bathroom to freshen up.

It was one of the few concessions I gave her, first dibs on the bathroom after a session like this. I waited patiently for my turn, and marveled, as always, at her resilience. She never ceases to amaze me, and this time was no different.

Opening the door and moving cautiously on unsteady legs, she looked up at me, smiling, while yet managing to keep her head down, and said, "Again? Tomorrow night, Sir?"

And the rope was not the only thing she was focused on,...

Let me paint the picture of the prelude: Lady had been good all week and deserved a reward. For her reward, I had her slip into her wrist, elbow, and thigh cuffs. After locking her wrist cuffs together, I decided a small spreader bar on her elbow cuffs would be an appropriate addition, and restrict her movement further. I had promised her I would try some "tit-tying" on her if she had been good. So I let her know, this was her lucky day.

With her arms restricted as they were, I had her hold them in front of her. In that pose, it allowed her tits to sit more naturally. I started wrapping the rope first over the tops of her tits, then after crossing back, under them. With each pass the path of the ropes alternated, over, and under. And I made sure to pull them tight as I made each pass.

After about a dozen passes over and under, her tits were pretty well trapped, and compressed, between the coils circling her chest. Standing almost straight out, they were very erotic and tantalizing to look at, but I wasn't done with her yet.

When I started the coiling, I had placed shorter sections of rope under the coils and on the outer edges of her tits. Now that she was wrapped up, I tightened up the shorter pieces causing them to compress the sides even further, then tied them tight.

Her tits stood out even further and were taking on a deep pink color. Her areolas darkened as well and bulged nicely. And her nipples were at full attention. She can look so sexy.

tbc.

The host has been having issues with the links here. At any given moment, you might see the pages; or maybe not. Maybe just the links without the graphics. But most of the time, nada. Just a "Sorry. We can't find your good stuff, so go to hell and leave already, huh?"

This is all very distressing.

The site host, is next on my list. Not the "Web Mistress", just the provider.

Now, wouldn't you know...

So. This is a test of the American Broad Chasing Castration. This is only a test. If this were the real deal, you would have been told where to go and what to do when you go there.

It's OK though, I got 'em anyway.