Again

Your arm is beginning to go numb. Here on the floor with your wrists fixed behind you its impossible to lie comfortably. You want to move, but your arms are attached to your collar and moving is difficult and besides, you know I haven't given you permission. You would like to get up, but you're not sure your legs would hold you.

You wonder if it's over. You're aware of me sitting back on the sofa on the other side of the room, watching you. Now that I've had what I wanted, perhaps I'll let you go. Perhaps that's what I'm waiting for, the moment to release you.

The marks left by the crop are starting to sting again. The one on the right side is being made worse by pressure from the carpet where you're lying. But the other feels livid too. You make a mental audit of your body. Your breasts are feeling better now that the clamps have gone and the first wave of pain has left you. In fact as soon as I started to work on you again it seemed to fade, or not to matter, or rather it still mattered but became part of the sensations that were sweeping over you and not something to be feared but welcomed. Not for the first time you begin to marvel at the way the lines can blur between pain and pleasure.

Your lips are a little bruised where I drove into you. You're surprised to find the tenderness down there is not unwelcome, and part of you is already missing the cock that did this to you, as if you wanted it back to bruise you some more. But strangest of all are the sensations that marked the end of your anal virginity. The opening was not merely physical. It's as if surrendering part of yourself, giving way to the invasion of my cock, has opened another door inside. You have nothing else to hold back, and no desire to hold back. You have opened like a flower and the feeling, despite your physical discomfort, fills you with a joy you can't describe.

"Angie".

My voice takes you by surprise, so wrapped up have you been in the sensations of your body.

"Yes?"

"Come here."

You begin to move to work yourself into a position where you can get to your feet.

"No. Not like that."

Your mind is racing.

"I don't understand…"

You look across the room – at the expanse of carpet that separates you from where I'm sitting, watching your reaction.

"You want me to crawl?"

I watch you carefully.

You try to move.

"But I can't. I can't move. I need my hands."

"Yes you can. You just have to try harder. "

You try again. This time you manage to reach the wall where you're lying with your legs. You find a purchase and push yourself away from the wall. The pain in the mark on your leg shoots through you as you drag it across the carpet.

"I can't do it!"

You're breathing heavily. You look up to see me watching you, unmoved. You have no choice. You roll onto your back to see if this makes things easier. But your hands are crushed under you. It's hopeless. With some effort you manage to roll over until you're face down on the floor. Exhausted with the effort, you rest your cheek on the carpet for a moment. Why are you doing this, you wonder? Why? After a few moments you lift your head to look at me. I'm watching you with what seems like complete detachment..

You take a deep breath and begin to squirm from side to side like a snake, driving yourself forward. You can't tell if you're moving, perhaps a few inches you decide, but now your sore breasts are protesting, as your nipples drag on the pile of the carpet. And then suddenly it's all too much. You've done what I asked, you've let me tie you up, and beat you and fuck you everywhere it's possible to be fucked and now you've had enough.

"No!"

You raise your head again to make sure I understand. "Enough. I've fucking had it, all right? I'm not going to drag myself across this fucking carpet for you or anybody else, now get over here and undo my hands – now!"

You lie there breathing hard. I haven't moved. My expression hasn't changed. I'm sitting there just as I was before watching you.

You speak slowly and carefully. "If – you – don't – get over here right now and undo these cuffs.." But you know before you've finished speaking that I'm not going to move. And then something surges up inside you, an anger you didn't know you had and suddenly you're thrashing about on the floor determined by the sheer force of your rage to break free. You don't care if you hurt yourself, you don't care what happens just so long as you can get out of this and start inflicting pain on me.

And then I'm there beside you, holding you.

"It's all right," I say. "Everything's all right."

And exhausted by your rage you lie still.

"Please.." you say. "Please."

I stroke your cheek. Brush away the tears. "Everything's going to be just fine." I'm smiling at you. You're breathing hard. But feel yourself start to relax. Despite yourself, the touch of my hand on you is calming. You no longer want to hurt me. Just for it to be over.

And I hold your head and look into your eyes for a moment. "Crawl, Angie. Do it for me." And then let your head rest gently on the floor and return to my seat.

It takes you a long time to cross to where I'm sitting. When you looked back on it, you can't believe it was possible. You arrived, sore and exhausted, unable to see because of the tears. But you make it at last. You can feel your face against my legs.

Then I lift you from the floor, undo the cuffs and hold you.

"You see? You see what you can do when you try?"

You don't understand it, you don't know why, but you reach your ams round my neck and want me to hold you. And I do, and stroke your hair, and tell you how brave you've been until you're calm again and can look into my eyes. I'm smiling. I kiss you lightly on the lips.

"Now."

Brush a strand of hair from your eye.

"Shall we go on?"

For a long time you say nothing. Surely after everything that's happened, I'm not asking for more? Your heart is pounding. You struggle to come to terms with the rush of emotion. And then the word just comes out of you. You weren't even aware you were going to speak. I'm smiling down at you now. At the answer I knew was going to come.