We're going to dinner this evening but she insists we become intimate "her way" first.
The bed has a headboard but no footboard, only the double-twin metal box-spring frames. She ties my legs, well apart, on each side of the headboard, my arms, to each side of the foot of the bed-frame, my head barely supported by the joining of the double-twin mattress. A rope securing one knee, is passed under the bed then attached to the other knee, effectively eliminating my ability to move my legs to avoid her ministrations.
I am naked but for a pair of her panties, which she commanded I don, that barely covers my raging erection. She comes to the foot of the bed facing my supine form, straddling my head, thighs touching my cheeks. Her glorious pleasure palace fills my vision, her nether region rosebud peaking from deeper shadows.
She loves to give hurt. Her arousal already building, her velvet folds glisten with anticipation of the coming play. She gets wet at the drop of a hat and she makes buckets of girl-juice the consistency of maple syrup. It begins to form drops dripping with long fine strands from her swollen folds to my face and she's only just warming up.
She shows me the bamboo indoor plant supports, one in each hand.
"Before we go out I'm going to mark you so you won't forget you are owned. But first, I have a need and you will let me fill it." she said softly, and started with the bamboo on my inner thighs.
Not wailing away, no, no, no...but with little tap, tap, taps. Each one just a bit harder than the last. One, two, three, four, five. By tap three, the sting of the strokes make me squirm. By tap five, I was gasping and writhing.