The Assignation

It was part of their agreement... occasionally, he, with her full understanding and permission ahead of time, would set up these 'encounters'. She never knew when they'd be, or who with. Blindfolded, bound, cuffed and collared, she'd wait in a place he prepared for her... Sometimes it'd feel like hours, sometimes only minutes, the earbuds tucked under the blindfold's strap playing her favorite music to distract her. It was their scening music, the haunting beats left on repeat until he entered the room. She could already feel herself drifting, the tip of her head towards her chest, strained against her binds, relaxing into the pose he'd declared for her. The weight of the rope harness caressing, protecting, soothing her. The scent of candles hit her first, that snap of sulfur, the match lit, and the fragrance filling the room.

She'd felt silly at first, her arms spread out like Supergirl, her knees bent and back arched. But he knew what he was doing, and so did she. Her hair bound up in a snug ponytail, wrapped in rope atop her head, the long sable tresses tied as well til just a small portion hung free for gripping. She never knew what to expect either, the first sensation usually setting the tone, and when she realized he'd entered the room, whoever it was, her mind started spinning, searching for clues. The candles, a soft susurrus of fabric against a shelf... But when that first touch came, even she was surprised. It was soft, too soft or so she thought at first. The teasing caress of... was that fur? Down the long line of her back, her body twisting lightly in the harness only to feel "-Ah!-". Her eyes flashed wide behind the blindfold, the sudden contrast of softness and -heat-... drips of melting wax teasing down the arched form that was so recently caressed.

She'd been subconsciously searching for his own scent, the familiar room making it easier, but she couldn't pick it out just yet... There was a combination, lavender and musk, sandalwood and vanilla... but she couldn't tie down just what went to which. It wouldn't have surprised her if he'd done it on purpose - to try to confuse her - but she was quickly brought out of her musing by the next caress... Something, it felt like nails scratching lightly over her skin, making her shiver, alternated with that caress of fur... and just when she thought a pattern might develop... there was the sudden rush of that wax trailing over her and drawing a soft hiss, setting her to quiver within the ropes. It was enough to make her toes curl, the shift, the knowledge that she'd never really -know-. The caresses became more like strokes, and it was then she realized... it wasn't a fur, it was a flogger... The soft tails teasing over her skin and even as hard as he hit her, it was still a gentle thump... they came fewer and far between though, pulling away, the alternating effects slowing... A slight pause then... the sound of rustling she could just barely hear over the music that still pulsed in her ears.

She was already starting to warm, the anticipation, the desire... Even knowing it was a stranger, that he had effectively given her services to another. It made her belly tense and quiver in all sorts of delicious ways and she couldn't help the softened sigh that passed her lips. He hadn't gagged her this time, saying that he wanted to hear her express herself, and the knowledge that he might be watching, turned her on even more. She'd asked him once, if he had a voyeuristic streak. He'd laughed, grinned a little and she just relaxed seeing his expression. At the time, she didn't know just how fully that streak might come into play. She did now. The music changed, broadened, shifting to a faster, harder beat and as if on cue, before she'd had a chance to adjust mentally - *thwack*. Her little hiss of surprise, the heavier tails of this implement creasing the air before they landed on her skin. The ropes shifting, the precarious display coming to a fuller exposure, feeling her legs separate, the suspension holding her spread wide almost like Michaelangelo's drawings to be clear of... "Oh!" The soft rush of breath passed her lips again as it landed once more and though she still didn't know what was coming, she had a pretty good idea.

Her hips shifted, the tightening of her ass in reaction though she quickly released the muscles, knowing that - "Ah!" - Not fast enough, that lick of heat on her cheeks, a combination of the tension in her form and the hint of leather kissing her skin as she winced at the pain that flashed through. But even that was a quick there and gone, the heated sensation growing, the next few blows placed in criss-crossing lines over the flesh of her ass and backs of her thighs. Coming more swiftly now, the slight pauses only every once in awhile, that careful hand running over her skin, checking... It was a rule of his, to always ensure, especially with the singletail, that he hadn't hurt her more than she could handle.

Whoever it was, was silent though. Listening to her, she supposed, but the touches were just as reassuring, and those fingertips teasing against her, caressing the welts left behind, and finding the all-too-obvious hints of arousal, well... There wasn't anything she could do about that. Nor would she want to. The soft moan rolling through the air, her whole body quivering in a mixture of embarrassment and relief, and as that fingertip swirled around in the evidence of her body's delight and rubbed against the folds and up to that tightly-squeezed sphincter, well... her resolve to stay as silent as she could, bent... A low groan of need filling the air, her chest nearly aching from it and though she wriggled within her bonds, the form, whoever he was, didn't seem fazed at all, simply patted lightly on her sore derriere and went right back to what he was doing.

The shiver coursing through her once more, toes flexed then curling as the next blow fell... Her head falling forward as much as she could, as this time the lashes came over her back, cracking the trails of wax over her skin, feeling them drift away. One sense of heat consumed by the other, her hips shifting again, hands clenching into fists then relaxing once more. Whoever it was, seemed to know his craft well, the delicate artistry of where and how to hit, without causing too much pain, making it meld and blossom... Her mind started to drift again, the sensations pouring through her as she felt herself fall into that blessed place where she could just let go. The worries, the cares of the day dashed away with each fall of the flogger, each caress of the whip, the occasional contrast to bring her back, gasping for air before he played her right back down.

This was what she loved about being 'on the wall' as her and her Owner called it - even if there was no wall involved, the term had stuck. The interaction, the flow back and forth. Give and take, his attention, her reaction, and the pleasure they both derived... Another pause, and that tension heightening, the sudden caress of fingers again... she couldn't tell if it was a glove or nails, but that light touch, caressing, grazing over the lines embossed on her skin were enough to send her into shivers and near-silent groans. It felt different this time though, more insistent, needing as if whoever's hands they were, demanded her responses. She gave them gladly - twisting, arching, mewling as the fire erupted within her and expressed itself through the little licks of delicious misery on each inch of her skin kissed by the whip, and danced over by the flogger.

The blows came faster, harder, driving, spiraling, sending her higher and deeper at the same time, the stubborn staccato changing just as she started to expect the next blow... and suddenly, she realized why she'd been getting conflicting scents, conflicting touches. The blows on her back suddenly contrasted with the lash that teased over her breasts within seconds of each other. Wait what?! She stiffened, her soft cry of surprise clear on the air... A moment's pause from both directions though no one touched her, just waited to see if she'd give a sign. She didn't though, just quivered all over as her brain tried to process the sudden shift, and within a moment or two, they started in again... the flogger again on her back, and the whip lightly lashing against her full rounded breasts. Her head jerked up, chin lifting, and the subconscious shift of her body to outthrust herself into this new sensation. It wasn't -one- person, it was two.

They must have known each other well - or had some sort of silent sign, for they played her body in concert, the interlacings of marks rising on her skin left her little time to think, just absorb. They even alternated the moments of checking on her... one continuing to tease her while the other came forward to check her over, caressing her cheek, her back, down her belly to the evidence of her need teasing all too wantonly between her legs and descending to the floor. She still blushed, even then, and though it felt like it'd been forever, she knew he wouldn't let them push -too- far. Whoever it was behind, seemed to give some sort of signal, the flogger falling behind her to the ground, the quiet thump the only expression of noise other than her own, and as both sets of hands caressed her form, she moaned out again and writhed within their grip.

She felt his hardness behind her, pressing into those reddened cheeks, whimpering faintly only to gasp when the fingers in front tugged and pulled on her nipples. Her body twisting again, the sensory overload sending her whirling, and making her fight between them. The rubbing of his length against her, one of the hands on her breast teasing downward to toy with her clit while she suddenly felt him rubbing against her folds, teasing at her entrance. Would... would they take her like this? She wondered, the sudden pinch of her nipples felt at the same time as the sudden thrust driving into her warmth. Her head falling back, the sharp squeal filling the air and her muscles within squeezing down. Not to elude him, or resist, simply her body's trained reaction to caress and hold on to, pleasing him as best she could. His length shoved straight to her core, the cry turning to a low moan and harsh shudder, wriggling around him, and bucking her hips against those insistent fingers on her already aching clit.

They weren't done with the lashes so easily it seemed, the hands before her falling away and as he thrust in and out of her, his grip on her shoulders to prevent her swaying away, the lashes teased over her belly and breasts again. Timed to meet each thrust of the cock burrowing deep to rain fire over her skin just as he thrust the deepest. She'd never felt anything like it and even in the depths of her sweet intoxication, she couldn't help the moment's passing thought that she was grateful to Him, for giving her this experience. The lashings only lasted for a few minutes, as if the figure before her was too eager to miss out on the sweetness that was offered in the little noises she expressed. Those eager hands taking hold once more, flicking and rubbing at her clit while the one behind her increased the power and depths of his thrusts. The other free hand before her continuing to caress her breasts, her skin, tracing their fingers over the marks inflicted in her delicious torture. Her body squirming, the scents stronger now as she was able to get a better sense of what belonged to who.

Warm lips suddenly pressed to hers, the moan she'd been holding finally exploding between them. Soft tender caresses that became just as demanding as the hands that groped over her form... and the lavender and vanilla surrounded her. Every breath full of .. her? It had to be a her, the nails now digging into her nipples as if realizing the suspense had served its purpose, giving into the joy of their shared reactions. Her little panting mewls filling the air with the stolen breaths between kisses, and as he slowed his thrusts they became harsher, seemingly deeper still, eliciting those little flashes of pain that in other circumstances, she wouldn't bear, but here, when she was deep in the throes of her headspace, she relished. The tension in her form making her want to twist and turn away though she was held fast... She could feel herself spiraling, the ardor rising, sending her closer to the edge with every impalement though she fought to hold back, to hang on... He hadn't told her she could release, and it was a battle to hold herself in abeyance. The softened form before her with it's sharp contrast of sweet tenderness and bright sharpness like a knife sent her head to spinning, and though she was nowhere near a safe word, she couldn't help but wonder just how much further down the rabbit hole they would take her.

To be continued?