The Pulley

The Pulley

From a nearby workbench, I take a pulley arrangement, with a pan at one end of the rope. I attach the pulley to an eye bolt anchored in the joist above you. I place a small box on one pan, attaching the free end of the rope to the bag of ice. You imagine you can feel the chill radiating from the ice as I position it just above your cunt.

I attach a light cord to the bag of ice, attaching it to the bench you're tied to. You quickly realize that this will keep the block of ice exactly where it is positioned. I cut a small hole in one corner of the bag, right above your clit. The pan with the box exactly balances the ice block; the pan is suspended between your feet. I ruin a cord from the clover clamps to the arrangement above you. You quickly realize that, as the ice melts, two things will happen. The small hole will allow drops of water through, to splash icy water one drip at a time against your exposed clit. And, as each drop hits your clit, your nipples will take a little more weight from the pan... and the clover clamps will tighten with each drop as well.

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I still wonder how I actually got here. Well, not wonder, I know damn well how I made this mess. But nevertheless, I find myself going back in my mind to teasing You a little. My nerves of the last days, yesterday. No, even more the anticipation that the last months had been building inside me, now coming out. Playful teasing, kissing Your skin between witty remarks. I'm relieved at my ease around You, mixed with the constant awareness of my mind being set on You at the same time. Anticipating upon Your needs, Your wants, simply, because I need and want to do so. But also, yes.... I am testing You and thereby myself...U/us.

Ow I knew I went to far when I slid an ice cube between Your skin and the front of Your pants, laughing and giggling as I saw You squirm and moan. I should have stopped at just kissing You with the cube between my lips, my teeth. Caressing You while the slowly melting ice sent delicious shivers down Your spine, answered by the ones that hunted mine upon sensing Your reaction. Now I look at You and feel myself freeze as I watch Your facial expression change and go darker, the gleam in Your eyes become stern at once. Sensing You move even before I feel You do it truly.

Your hands grab my one wrist and turn it behind my back in one swift move, making my body have to turn inevitably. I pant in pain and fright as I am thus pushed against Your body hard, arching my back trying to relieve the pain, unable to hide myself from the look in Your eyes. I whimper and blush deeply, lowering my gaze as I squirm against You slightly, trying to persuade You to let go. Ow I do not mind being pressed against You like this, nor do I dislike the feeling of helplessness this position gives me. I just hate, knowing I called it upon myself crossing a line. You body is hard against mine as You turn Yourself and pin me down underneath You on the bed. You skillfully make sure You do not lose Your grip on my wrist and turn it behind my back, making me rest my weight on it. The tension makes me arch like a bow and push up my hips and chest as my heels dig into the mattress and my breathing becomes rapid while my mind spins. My head lifts up, my lips are trying to find Your skin in an attempt to sooth Your mood and my own feeling. The movement makes me grind myself under and against Your body in vain.

"That was a wrong move little slut." Your voice does not show Your emotions in any way, no matter how hard I scan for it. The void of any inkling of how wrongly I have indeed went makes me cringe and shiver. A whimper leaves my lips, both a telltale of how sorry I am and how much I want to turn back. But still, at the same time...

I do not think I could have really struggled even if I wanted to do so. My whole body accepting my position right then and there. What happens now is indeed in Your hands, I think, while I feel You shift Your weight. You release one hand from me and slide it over my body hard. Not a caress this time, but a rough, claiming gesture, fitting the look in Your eyes. I moan as I feel my body react despite it all. The feeling of Your hips pinning mine down, my own movements, Your hands swiftly sliding over my skin, pulling away the cloth that covers my breasts as Your large hands grab the tissue, mould it, knead my breasts each in turn, stirs the heat for You inside me, no matter how hard I try pushing it back. I do not deserve to feel this now.

"Not such a smartass now, are You?" I hear a wicked chuckle in Your voice, not really sure You wanted to show that even. At the same time Your thumb and forefinger take a tight grip round my left nipple, squeezing it between them instantly as You flick Your wrist, turning the little nub that screams out in sudden pain. Ahhhhh, I cringe and moan hard, my body tries to lift itself, tries to avoid the pain, refrained by Your other hand and You body still keeping me locked. My hips buck up involuntarily and I take a deep breath and sigh coarsely as I breathe out slowly and try to take in the pain. The movement makes Your weight shift and Your pubis grinds against mine roughly. I feel Your cock brush against my mound and I cannot help moaning again, louder and with a needing ring to it too this time. My blush deepens even more as I become aware of the lust and need building inside. My body quivers, Will I ever be able to simply accept the response You illicit in me time after time? I realize, that is maybe even.....my deepest submission, aware that this makes me depend on You so deeply. And I realize as well, You damn well know this too as You repeat the same movement. This time, simply, because You want to do so. The feel of Your slowly building erection grinding against me so close to my now ripening cunt. I know I am getting wet even now, my lips swelling in need and anticipation, craving Your touch.

But nothing of that now. I feel You stir and dare to open my eyes slowly. I watch You silently and remorsefully from under dark eyelashes, my own breathing sounding so loud now. "Stay" is the only thing You say as You release the grip on my wrist fully now and slide from my body. I gasp upon the release, push back the urge to slide my arm from underneath me and ease the painful stretch upon my shoulders. My eyes merely follow Your move as I nod slowly, a barely inaudible "Yes Master" leaving my lips weakly.

I find myself in that same mindset even profounder, as I feel Your fingertips and nails scratch over the skin on the inside of my free arm, running towards my wrist in a teasing, tantalizing move that makes me struggle to lay still. I am having trouble allowing myself the delight and pleasure I am experiencing, whilst my shame upon my earlier actions is still so much there. My attempts to keep myself from nudging myself against Your touch make my body quiver visibly. I turn my head and watch You with trepidation in my eyes. I cannot find words and my mouth feels so unbelievable dry as I see You grab my cuffs from the bedside table. I lick my lips, more in nervousness then anything else, breathing deep slow breaths as I follow Your every move. My eyes fly from Your hands that fumble with the cuff, locking it securely round my wrist before pulling my arm wide in securing it with a bondage rope to the leg of the bed, to Your face. Your expression so much one of focus, not showing what You think or feel. I remain silent as I lean back my head and let all sink in a moment while at the same time following Your actions. I am moaning when You pull the rope tight, making me turn sideways slightly, my arm stretched out wide now.

You move around the bed in slow, deliberate steps, the soft thuds of Your shoes on the carpet echo in my ears. I refrain from lifting my head and merely squirm as Your hand slides over my right leg, roughly pinching a fold of flesh on the inside of my thigh, urging me to spread out wide silently. I comply swiftly and feel the fabric of my skirt hoist up around my thighs and ass. Your fingers sliding down, in between pinching random folds of skin, towards my ankles. The almost casualness and slight roughness of Your moves without any tenderness now, weirdly enough exciting me even more. Your awareness of what is lying splayed in front of You now being Yours, so vividly noticeable in Your actions. I hate and relish it at the same time, knowing...You are right.

I feel the steady thud of my heartbeat in my belly, my loins, even my nether lips and clit as I am spread out like this. Vulnerable even with layers of clothing still around me. The clicking sound of also this cuff locking in place, followed by a strong pull that makes my body turn to the other side now and make my leg muscles strain, only adding to this notion inside me.

I bite my lower lip hard, keeping me from moaning out loudly and lift my hips up towards You, showing You my need in such an obvious gesture. I do have some pride left inside me!

Your low chuckle makes me feel caught in my thoughts. I growl helplessly, knowing I indeed am just that, as You sternly command me to look at You while You bend over. Your one hand resting on the bed, the other one lifting my skirt slowly, giving the cool air in the room time to play with my flushed skin. I whimper out loud in a begging tone as I feel your finger dip between my swollen moist lips unceremoniously in one swift move. I gasp loudly and toss my head back, now indeed lifting my hips as You slide into my cunt once. You slide it deeply in and out, ignoring the clasping of my muscles around it and lifting Your finger in front of Your face. My juices on it gleaming in the dim light, the mere sight makes my eyes widen and my breathing catch for a moment. Why do I even feel this caught?

Maybe because You bend over and advance on the bed, towering over me as You slide Your finger over my lips. The smell of my arousal, my need, my lust but also, delight so obvious on the air. Deviously pointing out my need, denying me my denial, I hear Your voice low and vibrating. "The brat enjoys failing me?" I open my mouth instantly, wanting to defend myself, deny it even now. My own smell and Your in my juices covered finger resting on my lips, disable me to do so without feeling more foolish than I already am. I close my lips and bend my head while lowering my gaze. I cannot bare to look at You now. And certainly not after I hear Your next words. "Hmm, lets find out if You still like it that much when You are helplessly begging me, maybe that reminds you of your place." I simply whimper and close my eyes tightly, try to remain calm while each breath I take reminds me of my undeniable lust breaking through my feelings of shame.

You slide down from the bed again, Your hands trailing over my body igniting it even more. Your touch feeling like a electrical bolt running through me. Ever so slowly You run Your fingertips over the inside of my thighs down to my left ankle, tickling and arousing my skin and senses even more. Your grin is almost audible on Your breathing, when I feel and You see, the goose bumps arise on my skin. The contrast with the rough movement that pulls my legs wide apart while You fasten this too now cuffed ankle to the bed, feeling solely like another proof of who is in control here.

And there I find myself, at this moment still having some sort of control left. I still could just rise, slide my arm from underneath my body and release either the cuffs from my limbs or the rope stretching my body wide open to Your gaze and whims. Funny, even that realization is so clear in my head now. Moments ago, I was not even bound at all and I never even thought of getting up then. Somehow now I do, realizing maybe that longing for something is not the same as doing it at all times and also; do I have the trust in You to surrender even now, while Your mood and feelings are not totally clear to me?

My thoughts are interrupted suddenly as I become aware of You standing beside my head, looking at my from Your height down. I feel Your eyes burn my skin as Your gaze slides down over my body. You stretch out Your hand and let it hover in front of my face. The slight beckoning motion of Your fingers makes me aware of You indeed wanting me to surrender that last possibility as well. I just....Freeze, unable to move at all. I so much want to turn my body and slip that hand from underneath it, offer it to You and make amends, but somehow I cannot. I do not know why, but I need to hear You say it. Maybe need to know in offering it I am indeed also in Your eyes showing what I should now. But I struggle still, so much wanting to do this myself, to give without reluctance.

Our actions collide. I hear Your words. "Give me your hand snowy" while at the same time I already am seeing more then feeling myself stretch it out towards You, fingers and hand trembling heavily. O/our eyes lock unto each other as You fingers slide around my underarm and with slow calculated movements fasten the last cuff too. I try to swallow away the dryness in my mouth to no avail. I hide my face against my arm the moment You place it besides me and start fastening the ropes, the slow tightening of the ropes that makes my muscles protest adding increasingly to my awareness of being simply: widespread, opened up....and.....left to Your every whim.

You walk away, out of reach for my eyesight and I close my eyes with a long sigh. I automatically twist and turn my body on the bed, each time my movement is prohibited by one of the cuffs, I am startled a little. At the same time this gives me the room I need, to accept the fact I made this choice myself. Made indeed...no more choices now.

I am aware of You rumbling around in the hotel room. I hear noises I cannot place at all. The running of water, opening of closets and closing again, the clear clinging of metal objects being put down. In fact, there is not much room in my thoughts to really even try focusing on them. And while I slowly start surrendering to the helplessness inside me, I smile upon realizing the sounds I hear at least mean, that You are probably not planning on simply letting me stay like this and give me more time to think upon my acting then I would like to have.

I feel the mattress move underneath me as You place first one foot, then the other upon it. The movement makes me open my eyes automatically. They grow wide and at the same time I gasp loudly, my mouth probably simply dropping open, followed by frantic swallowing and my body moving against the bonds. I, myself even, have no idea why. All I can think of is: He cannot....he simply cannot do.....

Oh, You can and do so. I moan at seeing You skillfully attach a pulley to the bolt in the ceiling and I know in a way instantly where You will take me. The mere thought makes me shiver and squirm in the bonds even harder. Doubt in my mind allover. As much as I love You pushing me, the thought of You asking something that I might actually fail You in...oh no... And....certainly not now!

I realize Your mind is not only focusing on the task on Your hands, as I hear You chuckle wickedly. I look into Your eyes and see You are actually enjoying seeing my struggle beneath You. Oh, how I wish for that earlier blindfold now. Realizing it, is hard enough, but I simply cannot but look and let all sink in vividly. As shivers run through my entire body, visions of ice run trough my mind. I feel chilled, almost like I feel the cold already on my skin. I twist and turn gently, more letting the tension in my body out then anything else, as my eyes keep roaming from You to the pulley arrangement. Your towering form highlighted by the daylight seeping in through the curtains. You look...Mighty, that's the only word that comes close now.

Once You have attached the pulley, You suddenly with a smack rest Yourself on Your knees in between my wide spread thighs on the bed. The sudden weight shift makes my body bounce on the bed slightly and the tension on my cuffs rises for a moment. You just sit there and watch me intensely. Your eyes caress my form, I feel them on every inch of flesh Your gaze passes. And I react, oh yes I do. Slowly my body starts to move with each breath I take, a subtle but undeniable rise of hips, a chest being lifted, fingers fidgeting, trying to reach out for You. Please just...touch me.

"Oh my God!"

I hear the click before I feel the cold steel of the Swiss army knife on my skin, the blade slowly presses against the inside of my left knee. My whole body stiffens, its muscles tremble in effort, my breath rages between whimpers of fright. The moment I feel the blade slowly travel upwards, denting my skin as Your press it down hard enough to make sure I notice each and every inch You travel, not hard enough though to break the skin. Each movement makes my breath catch and soon I am nothing but skin. Every part of me focuses on the trail upwards You make, my eyes shut tight, lips open in repeated gasps and whimpers. Yes...I am scared. But also know, You'd never do anything that would hurt me beyond what I can take. Would You?

I feel Your free hand gather the skirt that's wrapped around my thighs in a mess after my earlier struggling. You tug on the clothing, expose my widespread lips. The are engorged, moisture glittering on them clearly, the cool flow of air combined with the cold metal near to them pointing out the extremes; My growing heat and the cold. The tip of the blade is scratching the swell of my lips now, it feels like a never-ending moment. I moan out loud, not sure myself whether it is out of pure heat or scare, or simply always both. The sound of ripping cloth the moment the knife leaves my skin is overwhelming as You place the knife in the cloth of my dress, then lay it aside and grab the torn up fabric in both hands, tearing it further open with one big powerful motion, exposing me fully to Your gaze again.

The heavy pull combined with the cool of the room hitting my flushed skin once more overwhelming me. My hips rise as the fabric tears down to the waistband, leaving the silky layers of cloth to fall against my thighs. My body arched tout against the mattress, my eyes closed firmly and my lips opened in one large gasp I tremble like I never did before. My breathing is rapid and deep, frighteningly moving my chest and belly with each tug of air, making me move as Your fingers twirl round the waistband, pull it up and I feel the tip of the knife against the soft delicate skin of my belly now. The point pressing down slightly for a moment, making my body freeze in midair, hips lifted as high as my bonds allow. Every tendon and muscle inside me quivering now from the tension inside me. Both at not wanting to fail You and being simply...intimidated by the knife You yield. Or is it by You Yourself?

I feel You tilt the knife and rest its handle on my belly, the cold steel of the blade resting lightly on my mound, Your hand keeping it in place firmly. Then, I moan softly. Your free hand slides over the inside of my thigh upwards, a gentle, soothing caress. I exhale deeply, slowly feeling my body sink down against the mattress, resting my limbs. You keep stroking softly, repeatedly following the same path up and down, barely touching the skin and gradually, I almost forget about the knife. I focus on Your hands, and O/our combined breathing, finding safety and comfort in it once more as my heartbeat slows down a little.

The same moment I become aware of that change inside me, as I feel myself relax and open up towards You again, You must have sensed it too. I feel Your hand leave my skin and with one swift move grabbing my skirt again, lifting it from my skin and slicing it down with the sharp knife. The moan that escapes my lip this time not out of fright, but a reply out of both gratitude and surrender, the turmoil in my head this time from realization of the depth of Your control.