She lies there, unbound, but not moving.
Today we are pushing the boundaries, our journey together has reached the place where maps say only There be Dragons. Her last half hour was spent in isolation and reflection, hands bound behind back and linked to the rope joining the collar She earned, with the hook snugged firmly in Her ass. The urge to fidget in the blacked-out room tempered by the sweet pleasure pain each small movement brings. She is ready for what comes next, She thinks, this is what She has asked for what our time together has been in preparation for.
I'm not so sure, but She trusts me and is safe.
I had climbed the stairs slowly and deliberately giving Her plenty of time to lay still and be ready, lighting a couple of candles when I enter, I admire my handy work. She didn't expect to be released from Her bonds for this but I have my reasons and here She lays. I begin our time together by rubbing my hands up Her back, feeling it arch slightly to keep pressure off the rope and unclip it from the collar. Her release gives Her comfort but confusion and I instruct Her to not move and continue releasing Her from the bonds. As the hook slides out, She raises slightly and moans obviously enjoying the feeling, the impact of my hand surprises Her and She pushes into the bed pulling the hook free and ending our warm up.
My hands knead Her shoulders and neck releasing the tension there, eliciting content little noises. I work my way over Her back and buttocks, noticing the ghost of my hand and smiling at what is to come. She thinks I do this for Her pleasure only and true, Her physical and mental wellbeing are a priority but I get a certain enjoyment out of this that I cannot put into coherent thought. She has given me the gift of submission and it is a palpable, fragile thing that I nurture and repay Her for with each session we share. I repeat my instruction that She isn't to move, that today's binding is in Her mind and I begin.
The first blows are with my hands, measured and light, just enough to bring a tingle to the skin and settle her. She lays there unmoving as the crack of skin on skin increases slightly, now raising colour on her pale skin and leaving behind an intricate web of overlapping fingers. I stop and run my hand over ass and feel small welts rising from the last of the blows. Her arousal is obvious, her labia red and wet and swollen. Two fingers plunge into her until they can go no further and she shudders, its not an orgasm but that deeply satisfying feeling that comes with it. Her mind is no longer here with me, transported to the place she inhabits during these times, a state that's almost transcendent and meditational so I continue my work and do not disturb her. Normally the paddle would come next, a cute little thing with XOXO indented along it that I delight in transferring to her skin. But not today. I feel its heft as I pick up my flogger, the woven red and black leather handle giving in to a multitude of single strands, some of which I've knotted for the occasion. I drag the ends over her back making her wriggle as the gentle touch tickles after the earlier impacts. I slide my finger from her, leaving a wet trail between her thighs, she will need to focus here and I don't want to distract her. We have discussed this next step and I've waited excitedly so I slow my breathing finding the control I need.
