07

Chapter Four – Another round in the gazebo

"We're not done," I said. "Remove the rest of the lace from your top." As she pulled the leather laces out, she watched fearfully as I reached into the satchel, but all I removed was her bottle of lube. I pulled down my jeans and boxers, sitting forward on the edge of the chair so my aching cock and sac hung in the air. She stared at my 7½ inches, removing the laces without looking down. When the laces were free, I roughly pulled the top off her. She got on her knees without any prompting and handed me the laces, unsure of my intentions.

"Hold up your breast." Gingerly, she raised the sensitive flesh and I tied a lace tightly around the base. She gasped and watched as I wound the leather with brutal tightness, spiraling up her tit. She whimpered as the rough leather dug into the breast which had been so brutally thrashed. I bound the other tit. There were several inches of each lace remaining, so I tightly tied each of the ends onto the base of an opposite nipple, which was easy because they were so prominent. Her nipples were so big that ¾" of an inch was left sticking above the leather. She squirmed in agony and excitement with this latest nipple abuse. Not willing to disappoint her, I pulled several lead fishing weights from the handy satchel and watched her face gasp with pain as I slowly placed them on the laces connecting her nipples until I saw the distended nubs stretch even farther.

For the final touch, I showed her two older, wooden clothespins, chosen because their springs had lost the ferocity of newness. She actually gulped, but then spread her thighs. To further her humiliation, I said, "Apply them yourself." Gingerly, she pulled each of her lips and clamped a clothespin in the middle, a whooshing intake of breath expressing her suffering. When finished, she looked at me, a touch of pride in those pain-filled, beautiful eyes.

I poured the lube into her outstretched hands until they were coated, and then directly onto my dick. She began to lovingly stroke my cock and balls. Maybe she'd never had bondage and discipline, but she gave a great hand job. When I was ready, I grabbed her leather encased breasts and pulled until her lipsticked mouth enclosed the head of my cock. It was as if she was worshipping it, gazing up at me to make sure I was satisfied with her performance, the exquisite lips in that young, gorgeous face wrapped around me as her blazing hot tongue licked my shaft and then my testicles. She sucked me as if I was the answer to her dreams (little did I know).

As I lay back and moaned in ecstasy, a part of me admired the view, as my movie star-cum-slave labored through an impassioned cocksucking, her aching, compressed tits sweating in the heater's glow and cinched, burning nipples adding to her urgency. The only problem was her small mouth, so I roused myself forward, held the sides of her head in my hands, and forced another inch or two into her red lips. She seemed perfectly willing to develop her capacity.

When she sensed I was almost there, she grabbed the spatula and handed it to me with a deeply loving expression in her eyes. To say the least, I was surprised. And she was right: the tool was so long that it reached her ass. A few more merciless swats onto her cheeks took me over the edge as I dropped the tool, yanked her head off my member, held it with one hand and sprayed her surprised face with shot after shot of hot cum. It slammed into her forehead, snaked into her hair, inundated her nostrils, splattered on her open lips and into her mouth. After 20 seconds of massive discharge she figured that I was done. But just as she had an incredible capacity for pain, so did I with semen. I lowered my cock as spurts smashed across both of her leather-strapped tits and the weights, down her belly, through the narrow strip of dark hair and all over her puffy clit and labia.

I collapsed back and we stayed immobile for a long time, the only movement being our heaving chests and my load dripping down her face, splashing onto her fishing weights and tits and sliding down her abdomen onto her pussy and into her inflamed slit. "You can have the cum that's on your belly and thighs. Gratefully and gracefully, she scooped it up and swallowed it, leaving her lips glistening white globs.

It was time to bring the scene to a conclusion. "What do you say?"

She thought for a moment, making an effort to speak correctly. "Thank you Philip?" she said, raising her voice uncertainly at the end, hoping that she sounded respectful.

"For what? Be specific."

She spoke very slowly, choosing her words with care. "Thank you for doing some of the things I've dreamed of for years . . . . Thank you for dominating me . . . spanking my ass . . . whipping my tits . . . making me cum like I never have ever before . . . tying my tits . . . weighting my nipples . . . permitting me to clamp my labial lips . . . letting me blow you . . . shooting cum on my face, tits and cunt . . . and letting me swallow your delicious cum." She hoped she hadn't forgotten anything important.

"Very good. Now, you're going to unclamp your cunt lips and I'll remove the nipple weights and laces. Then we'll return to the house." Once she opened the jaws of the clothespins and slid them off her greasy cunt lips, she bent over in unexpected pain as the blood surged back into the labia. I pulled her head up, leaned forward until my cock was hanging against her face, smeared the cum around and removed the coarse laces from her throbbing nipples. She shuddered from the shooting pain of blood coursing back into the tender nipples.

"You may rub my cum into your tits and pussy." Gratefully, she massaged my thick gobs into her aching nipples and burning cunt lips, then spread more spunk across her belly and into her laced tits. She was about to do her face when I stopped her. "No, I like to see my cum as it is on your face." I gathered my tools and extinguished the heaters as she shakily got to her feet, grimacing from the laces as they crushed her tits in the new posture of standing. I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

Then came the final humiliation. I gathered the two laces dangling from her tits and pulled her out of the gazebo. It was a struggle for her to keep up with my fast pace since she was shorter and was wearing low heels. She whimpered as her tits were repeatedly yanked and strained.

Once inside the house, I forced her to drop the blanket for one last indignity. She was terrified that, even though it was extremely late, one of our parents would be up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. I didn't care. Moonlight still flooded the house, and I reveled in the sight of her luscious, tethered body being led nude across the living room, her distended labia fully visible and marks appearing on her ass. The perfect princess daughter, tit-leashed like the S&M slut she most devotedly was.

We made it without observation to her suite. Once there, she thought it was over. But it's important to keep them guessing so they don't become complacent. I pushed on her shoulders till she was kneeling in front of me. "Clean off my cock." Lovingly, she bathed both my dick and balls with her small tongue and mouth. "That's enough." Reluctantly, she stopped and gazed up at me, eager for approval.

I unstrapped her breasts, throwing the laces, fishing weights and clothespins on her night table so that she'd be reminded of her debased night session when she awoke in the morning. "May I shower?" she asked politely.

"Absolutely not. I want you to wake up feeling my cum all over your body. Do you understand?" She nodded. You can bathe after you wake up." It was time for the final surprise. Now get up and kneel on the bed, facing me." Dutifully, she took the position, posture erect, her head just below mine. I tilted her head up to me, opened her mouth wide, and leaned in, passionately kissing her lips and thrusting my tongue into her mouth as she moaned ecstatically. She started to kiss back and I slapped one of her tits. She stopped and remained submissive as I continued to shower her incredible face, neck, marked tits, and greasy belly with kisses, her ivory skin gleaming whitely in the moonlight.

I ended by kneeling and pushing her thighs apart. "Place your hands behind your head." Now she was in the formal position of a submissive slave. Instinctively, she thrust her pelvis forward to make her pussy more prominent. I clasped both her cum-coated labia and gradually pulled them down and to the side until she sobbed with pain. Then I lovingly kissed her clit and cunt, repeatedly running my tongue all the way up and down her sweet-smelling slit until she had a small climax and collapsed on top of me, clutching my shoulders and head.

After a few moments I pulled her off. "Get into bed. We'll talk in the morning." As I was leaving she asked, "Philip, what happens tomorrow if I'm bad again?" I turned around, looking at this raven-haired nymph whose exquisite body lay on the dark sheets, sticky, marked and hurting.

"Whether or not you're bad tomorrow, you still have punishments waiting because of bad behavior earlier today. Sleep."

Chapter Five – Tennis and a frank lunch

For a second or two upon waking, I thought that last night had been a dream. What had I done to deserve one of the most desired actresses in the world? I then lay in bed for a half hour, planning for that night – assuming she wouldn't be totally freaked out this morning. Or maybe she she'd even left to return to New York. I was prepared for any eventuality.

When I entered the kitchen, she was literally sitting down at the table in the dining nook, surrounded by our parents. But she immediately stood up. Unable to meet my eyes and blushing, she asked, "May I serve you breakfast, Philip?"

"Sure," I said. That would be great. The parents had all finished their breakfasts, but were lingering over The New York Times and The Boston Globe. Shelley raised her head and looked at her daughter, then turned her head back down and raised the paper in front of her face before allowing herself to smile at the startling offer of her courteous daughter.

Natalie was wearing a demure, high-necked white blouse and long, full white skirt. She looked radiant. It didn't escape me that the modest, virginal garb was the opposite of her black leather and lace slut outfit of last night. When she served me my plate and coffee and I said, "Thanks Nat," she smiled radiantly and resumed her seat. This time Avner raised his head. The only people permitted to call her "Nat" were friends she'd known for 15–25 years.

Avner and Shelley said that the three of them were going to visit a neighbor on the lake for an hour. Natalie looked up with an impish smile. "After the house call, why don't we all play doubles?" Suddenly she looked alarm and asked me, "Would you like that, Philip?" I said it sounded great and everybody else agreed it would be fun. Natalie and her parents headed off for their social call.

The moment they'd left, both my parents turned to me as if they were operated by the same remote control. In his articulate yet energy-saving manner, my father said, "So?"

"Well, all I can say is that she's great, we're having a nice time, and she really likes me."

"That's terrific," my dad said. He had all the information he needed.

My mother walked to me and held my arm, smiling ear to ear. "Honey, I'm so happy for you! Is there anything else you feel like telling me about her?"

"Well, it was a little rocky there for a while. She was attracted immediately, but afraid and confused. Anyway, that's all over with now."

While my parents relaxed on the deck, I went to work. First, I entered Natalie's bedroom with last night's satchel, having closed the door to her suite behind me. I ransacked the drawers. Sure enough, I found one full of sex toys. Curiously, in the corner of the closet was one of the smaller suitcases, the portmanteau I'd carried in on Friday night. It was locked, so I entered her birth date (I'd done research before the weekend), which worked. Inside was a treasure of BDSM goodies, both accessories and clothing, many still with price tags. I stocked up, closed and locked the suitcase, and returned it to the closet.

Second, I rummaged through the garage. Among other items, inside a bag of discarded clothing I found a broad, stiff leather belt, from which I cut two pieces, each 9 inches long. Between them I sandwiched a stray piece of thin metal I'd found that was the appropriate size, coated it with superglue, and set the new tool under a heavy carton of books.

When our hosts returned, we changed into tennis gear and headed into town in separate cars. She had asked if I'd like to have lunch together in town after tennis. We played a series of round-robin games in every combination possible: the respective parents against each other, Mom and I against Avner and Natalie, fathers against mothers, etc. Natalie wore an incredibly cute tennis skirt that showed off her legs perfectly. Everybody was in a great mood, played well and had fun. Natalie and I were on the same team, it was clear that I was in charge and she was careful to always ask questions before changing tactics and to never make assumptions.

After the games, the parents decided to have lunch at the club while Natalie and I drove into town and had lunch on the terrace of a pretty restaurant. She knew the host, who welcomed her warmly, and asked for the table in the far corner, the most private. Once we were settled, I said, "Talk."

"Yes, Philip," she said in her most cooperative tone. But I think I'll need some wine to start me off, okay?" I nodded and she ordered a very expensive, superb French chardonnay. After knocking off a glass, she explained how she'd been on location when 14, hanging in the trailer of an adult actress on a day when she only had one brief scene. She found an S&M book and it changed her life. Ever since, she'd read every book and story, scoured every magazine and viewed every movie and web site she could find.

Yet she'd never actually engaged in any acts. Since she was so focused on movies and studies as a teen, and very discriminating, she had had several relationships but not lots of boyfriends. Either she didn't trust them with her deepest secret, or felt they were too immature, or had hinted without success, or had asked if they might be so inclined without revealing her obsession. Naturally, her interest only deepened over the years since it was unfulfilled.

"Is there anything you're not willing to do?"

" Well, hardcore stuff like piercing and branding turns me off. And obviously, I can't be marked anywhere where it might show when I'm filming."

"What about your nude scene in the Goya movie?"

"That's not scheduled to go into production for a full year. So it gives me plenty of time to heal."

"Why are you doing another nude scene?" I asked.

Did you ever see that long French movie about the painter and his nude model? There are tons of nude scenes, but they're not gratuitous. That's the benchmark. May I ask about you? Obviously, you've had a lot of experience. Did you learn from lots of girlfriends?"

"Actually, we're more similar than you think. All I've done is tie a couple of girlfriends to their beds and engage in some spanking. Everything else was new." She stared at me, mouth agape, disbelieving, and took a large swallow of wine.

"But you're so assured . . . so confident . . . so hot." I reached across the table and put my hand over hers.

I looked into her eyes. "Because you inspired me, because you're a natural submissive, because you've learned a lot from years of interest, and because . . ."

"What?" she prompted.

"Because somehow, this is all so right, it seems like it was meant to happen." It was off-the-charts corny but true, and we both knew it.

"I know. I feel the same way." We looked at each other intensely for long seconds and then the food arrived. We ate our lunch in silence; there was plenty to think about. Eventually, she said, "Have you thought about how utterly impossible it is to have a relationship with an actress who works and travels as much as I do?"

"I don't have to think about it, because I've already been through it. I was in a relationship with ___ for a couple of years." I said the name of a very famous singer/songwriter.

"Oh, she's incredible," Natalie said. I have most of her albums. "Did her concert tours cause the breakup?"

"No, " I said, "it was a bunch of other stuff."

"Oh," she said, relieved. Her phone rang. "It's my mother. Is it alright to answer?" I nodded. Her mother was calling from the club to invite Natalie on a ladies-only expedition. A nearby art museum was holding a private opening for a special exhibit by a brilliant young painter whose work Shelley was interested in seeing. My father and Avner wanted to hike up a nearby mountain with me. Natalie asked my permission and I agreed to both suggestions. They'd meet us at the restaurant in twenty minutes.

"What about tonight?" Natalie asked shyly.

"It's not your business to know," I said, but I'll give you a brief preview." Her energy changed and her breathing became shallow. "You'll be silenced, but not with panties stuffed into your mouth." Her face reddened. "You'll be bound, but differently." She shifted in her chair. "You'll be weighted, but not the same way as before." Beneath the tennis top, her nipples had hardened. "And you'll be flogged, but with different instruments than the one I used last night." She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what I would do, how she would look and feel.

"Do, do you intend to fuck me?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

"Yes." She exhaled with relief.

"But you need to be trained before tonight." Her eyes widened with apprehension. I removed a silk bag from my backpack and handed it to her. She recognized that it was from her locked suitcase.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, incredibly embarrassed, but had sense enough not to object.

"Open it." She undid the string closure, saw the large dildo inside and looked at me fearfully.

"Last night, I had the impression that I'm larger than your other boyfriends, correct?" She nodded. "Now listen carefully. You're going to get up, go to the ladies room, remove your bra, put it in the bag, pull down your panties, insert the dildo, pull up your panties tightly to hold the dildo, and give me the bag with your bra."

Her cunt spasmed with fright and arousal. "But Philip," she said desperately, "I've never used this one. It's brand new and larger than any of the others. I can't wear it all afternoon, and in public." She took a drink and I topped off her glass.

"By objecting, you've just committed your first infraction of the day, and I assure you that there will be an extra punishment tonight." Her eyes defocused. "You're lucky that I'm letting you wear the panties." She whimpered with consternation that she felt so aroused in public. "Besides, that's only the first of your holes that will be trained. Tonight I'll stretch your small mouth, and tomorrow you'll begin wearing a butt plug." She drained a half glass of wine, incredibly humiliated that I was speaking so disgustingly at a lovely table in a charming restaurant with beautiful people sitting nearby.

"I have one question and I want an explicit answer: is your cunt wet?"

She nodded in shame. "That's your second offense," I said. "I specifically said an explicit answer."

She actually looked down, past her hard nipples, to her lap, as if she could see through her dress to her mound. "My cunt is sopping wet."

"Then it's a good thing that I didn't bother to bring any lube. Why should I, when I know that beneath that innocent exterior is the body of a slut? Now do it. Our parents are almost here." She picked up her bag, placed the pouch inside, downed the balance of wine in her glass, stood up, swaying slightly and walked unsteadily to the rest room. I paid the check.