What follows is an imagined revision of perhaps the sexiest spanking scene in any Hollywood film. A recent cable broadcast of the 1994 film version of Anne Rice's Exit to Eden (she wrote it under the pen name, Anne Rampling) prompted this script style story. The film stars Dana Delany as Lisa. The actor playing Elliott is not a name or face I've since seen in other films.
(Perhaps the primary talents which landed him the role were those on display in the scene which I've rewritten below—delectable, toned, beautiful ass cheeks and a willingness to show them in this integral-to-the-plot scene. He is credible as the character, however, in addition to possessing those amazing talents that must surely have inspired any number of women to remember how stunning he looked as he was positioned and ungarbed during this scene.)
For those not familiar with Exit to Eden, suffice to say that the film is very different from the novel. Keeping within the strictures that will garner an R-rating for theatrical release quite obviously prevented the more explicit and arousing scenes that Ms. Rice wrote from ever making it into the movie. For the purposes of setting up the tale below, however, accept the premise that a hedonistic island exists where men and women who want to free their inhibitions and be either dominated or served by those who want to be dominated go for intriguing vacations. Elliott visits the island in the role of a male who is offering himself for the enjoyment of women, and is entranced by Lisa. That's enough to make the scene below make sense—you can rent the film or catch it on cable to find out how Rosie O'Donnell and Dan Ackroyd figure into the plot, which also includes a gang of criminals, etc.
Better yet, curl up with Exit to Eden as written by Anne Rice, keep one hand free as necessary to tend to any activities the reading may prompt, and enjoy!
***
Scene begins with Elliott standing nude, arms stretched wide as his wrists are roped, the ropes secured to hooks in the wall on opposite sides of Lisa's boudoir. The interaction between Lisa and Elliott in the moments before has included his serving her pleasure by bathing her, shaving her legs, drying her off. As he begins combing her hair, she intuits a truth about Elliott as he pauses with the hair brush in his hands, a faraway look in his eyes. That intuition prompts Lisa to set the stage for a different way to use Elliott for her pleasure, and perhaps in the process, please him, too—something she is eager to find out.
In short order, Elliott is completely naked and totally helpless before her. She lingers behind him, saying nothing as she enjoys the view, his muscular ass rounded and delectable, cheeks perched firm, proud, and high atop strong legs. A chain between the shackles at his ankles is long enough to allow him to spread his legs to shoulder width. On the opposite wall is a mirror, and Lisa enjoys seeing the reflection of the full-frontal Elliott in complete nakedness, helpless before her. She begins her interrogation, moving closer behind him, drawing her lips to his ear.
Lisa: You know, Elliot, women sometimes don't know how men think about them. That's a shame, really.
As she prowls slowly behind him, close enough that he can smell her hair, his eyes remain looking forward.
Lisa: But I know, Elliott. I know that some men are turned on by long legs. They love to fantasize about running their hands up those legs, kissing behind the knees, dragging their lips up a gorgeous woman's thighs, moving their mouths closer and closer to the woman's pussy.
Her monologue is sexy, a throaty, half-whispered description. Elliott wonders if she enjoys saying things like this to him.
Lisa: Other men like big breasts, don't they, Elliott? Yet others are not so much concerned about breast size as they are fascinated by long, hard nipples, indicating the woman's arousal. These men fantasize about closing their lips around succulent, erect nipples straining forward in desire, hard, begging to be sucked.
Elliott shifts his weight. Lisa's arousing monologue is having an effect.
Lisa: Long hair, pretty feet, slender waists . . . it varies for men, but you know what, Elliott? No matter what turns a man on about a woman, seeing that woman naked—the woman who possesses the traits that excite him—makes his cock rise, makes him lust to put his hands on such a woman, to press his naked body against her, press his hard dick between the woman and himself as he kisses his personal vision of female sexual perfection.
Lisa presses herself against Elliott's back, reaches around his hip, and closes her fist around the shaft of his cock, now hanging heavy between his legs, not yet tumescent, but lolling in pre-arousal, blood beginning to rush there as a result of Lisa's monologue.
Lisa: But that's about all the foreplay a man can endure with these fantasies before he begins masturbating, isn't it, Elliott?
She begins stroking Elliott's shaft slowly as she whispers into his ear, pressing herself tightly against his back.
Lisa: Like this, Elliott? Is this how you stroke your cock when you fantasize about a woman with the kind of body that arouses you the most?
He says nothing. A bead of sweat has formed on his brow. Elliott chews on his lower lip, fighting to maintain composure. Lisa reaches her other hand underneath him, between his legs, to cup his balls, continuing her slow, tortuous tease of his rapidly hardening cock.
Lisa: Some men play with their balls as they stroke their cocks, I suppose, Elliott, but I'm not a man, and I can only guess at these things.
She presses his sac gently upward, knowing just how far to go before the first uncomfortable feeling of pressure would begin. Elliott holds his breath, waiting. Worried. But she feels the rigidity of his now erect cock in her grip, not abating, continuing to throb inside her fist. She holds him in this state, a millimeter away from discomfort, feeling the heat of his balls within their sac as they cradle in her palm. Finally, she releases him, drawing both her hands away from him. Looking over his shoulder, she notes with satisfaction the state of his aroused penis before turning her gaze to the mirror, seeing his eyes track hers as she enjoys the view. His cock is pointed to the ceiling, pulsing with each heartbeat.
Lisa: But what about women, Elliott? What do you think we like in our fantasy men?
She traces a fingertip across his shoulder blade, fascinated at the goose bumps rising at the nape of his neck.
Lisa: I can tell you, Elliott, that many women like to see naked cocks. Hard, pulsing, naked cocks. Big cocks, not-so-big cocks—they're all quite arousing to women who enjoy seeing male erections. Women like to see a man at attention, aroused and wanting to fuck them.
She again reaches around him, closes her fist around his hard shaft.
Lisa: Whether they allow the men to fuck them, though . . . well, each woman is different, I suppose.
She squeezes his cock.
Lisa: I'm sure, however, that a woman who imagines herself doing what I'm doing to you now, Elliott, plays out her fantasy in her own particular way.
She again squeezes his cock. A small droplet oozes from the tip. Lisa notices the glistening liquid in the mirror's reflection.
Lisa: And it must surely be the case that . . .
She draws her fist slowly upward, releasing her grip in order to drag the pad of one finger across the sensitive bundle of nerves underneath the head of Elliott's cock, and slides her fingertip across the head of his cock in a way that transfers the droplet of pre-cum from his cock to her finger. She pauses there, enjoying the velvety texture of the head of his dick as she smears a bit of the pre-cum across it.
Lisa: Yes, I'm sure of it, Elliott—it must surely be the case that in some of these female fantasies the women test the men's willingness to please them, to arouse them, to set aside silly macho posturing and abandon themselves to giving the women sexual pleasure, no matter what these ladies ask of them.
Lisa draws her hand slowly upward, peering over Elliott's shoulder, nuzzling her mouth closer to his ear so he will hear her very quiet whisper.
Lisa: Some women, Elliott, thrill to the thought of seeing a man . . .
Her fingertip hovers an inch from his lips. He is looking straight ahead, well aware of the unspoken implication from the woman behind him.
Lisa: . . . take and appreciate any offering presented to him, receive any gift from the woman that will thrill her to know her fantasy man has accepted.
She angles her head, her lips now brushing his ear, causing an involuntary shiver. She smiles, then continues in a voice so soft that only the closeness of her lips ensures that he hears.
Lisa: This kind of fantasy thrills these women, Elliott.
Her lips grazing his ear, she watches the mirrored reflection from the corner of her eye as she slowly presses her finger closer.
Lisa: Oh, yeah, Elliott. Mmmmm . . .
He parts his lips an instant before her fingertip makes contact.
Lisa: That's it, Elliott. Just like that. Some women get turned on intensely as they fantasize about this.
Elliott has closed his eyes, lips parted, barely breathing. Lisa very gently runs her fingertip across the softness of his lips, his pre-cum lubricating the motion, the small amount of the sexy liquid quickly forming a light sheen. She draws her hand away from his lips, then encircles his chest with both arms to press herself tightly against his back.
Lisa: Do you taste good, Elliott?
The question shames him yet excites him at the same time.
Lisa: Have you ever tasted yourself, Elliott?
Barely moving his parted lips, Elliott answers her, his voice soft, almost a whisper.
Elliott: No.
