Making a Scene

She rests in a pool of light with darkness around; she hears people in the dark but they are hidden from her as surly as she is exposed to them. Fully clothed in flowing dress she kneels sitting on her crossed ankles, her arms folded in her lap. A selection of toys is laid out behind her. From behind, I approach and kneel to gather up her hair and bind it tightly. My hands fall gently down her neck to lie across her shoulders. Her arms hang loose as she feels the weight. Grabbing her roughly about the shoulders, I pull the slack from her arms bringing them back with force enough to shake her. I slide my hands gently down her arms, with smooth even force to square her shoulders. My hands at her elbows grip her arms and drag her hands off her lap, drawing them behind her back, her elbows nearly touching. From the selection of toys at my side I pull a length of rope and wind it around her wrists, then waist, than shoulders before drawing out the slack to raising her arms high up her back. Forcing her to straighten still further, drawing her back to me. Bound such she waits with the stress from the bindings pulling on her chest . My hands slide up her sides over her breasts, neck, and face, to caress her check. My fingers draw over her eyes and she closes them. Cloth covers them. My hands leave her to her thoughts and time passes.

I jerk at the collar of her top pulling it to one side, exposing a tender breast. With a rough grip I prey open her legs. Rope I wrap in tight loops around one folded leg binding it to itself. To the side I pull her leg her other leg is bound at the ankle and in like manner- .her long skirt all askew had traveled far up exposing her naked shame. Her top is griped and used to pull her first forward testing the bonds then pushed back between the legs of an overturned chair. Legs spread far so they may not move together or apart, and tied there over turned chair. Her arms quickly lashed to the chair, with equal rapidity a cord is strung though her hair- wound over the upturned set of the chair and pulled tight to the fallen back- drawing her head back.

Her face thus exposed to harsh advances, is slapped by my hands now clad in leather gloves. Her thighs roughly groped, handled with disregard. My hand's grip cups her chins while the other alternates rubbing and slapping her lust-swollen pussy. The hand holding her chin leaves. The hand on her cunt travels up her body pushing aside her cloths. Both hands knead her breasts, pull them, compress them, pull her nipples and roll them between cruel fingers. A hand slips up to her throat. A knee presses against her cunt, grinding into it.

"Beg for it," I say.

She rolls her head to one side avoiding my eyes; hers are down cast. With a voice full of pleading for attention and pain she does.

"Good girl." The knee leaves, as do the hands. In there place I bring my crop to meet her leg, the tongue of it licks and bights her thigh.

"Beg," I command her.

Her voice whimpering with need, "please."

"Please what?"

Breathing rough and ragged, "Sir," her voice catches in her thought.

"What do you want?"

"You sir." She pauses, the words thick with longing and shame, "and- and the crop."

"Good girl." Standing over her my face cracks into a smile of pride I am sure she can feel even through the matted tuffs of hair and sweat-damp cloth covering her eyes.

Three more times she feels the bight on her thigh before it lashes across her breasts, leaving red lines where it lands. As the pain builds she strains her bonds. The wiping stops. My knee intrudes rudely between her legs to press on her cunt, the hand returns to her throat. I lean in to press my body to hers, so close I could feel her heart racing. Her breath hags about me, laced with the smell of lust it filled my nostrils; the skin of her neck is stretched tout as she moves her head exposing her naked neck to me, the tang of sweat mixed with the sweetness of her skin lingers on me lips. I enfold her in my arms to press her closer so her dignity might not ruin the honesty of her surrender. My knee moves rhythmically across her mound, as her bonds are loosened. As she becomes aroused my hand around her throat slides to hold her neck, and its thumb creases the line of her jaw. As my other hand works to unbind her the bonds holding her to the chair fall slack, my face eases in close to hers. I rest my head on the nape of her neck nuzzling it gently. "Don't cum," my voice vibrating the order in her ear.

I pull her from the chair and to the ground face down. My knee slides back between her legs, and I loosen her bonds. As her arms are loosed and her head hung down between then as she tried save her face the last inch to the ground; I ease them to her side with un-gloved hands. Running my hands across her arms to the base of her neck. Over every inch the touch is a massage to ease the stiffness in her joints. My hands work under her collar and pull her top off her. Her breasts sway with her panting heaving breath, the nipples taught and erect graze the cold tile floor. Her face still to the floor. Her legs are freed but partly, my knee slides further in parting her skirt as I lean across her back and press my mouth to her ear. "Remember, don't cum," I say, then with a final thrust of my leg, "and don't move." I pull the skirt to her knees as I move away. The sight of her round firm cheeks as white as the new linen panties she did not were tonight, exposed thus with legs slightly parted and cunt dipping lust, seemed to beg for the strap.

The strap falls across her ass, Followed a moment after by my hand to rub the offended spot. A pause wherein I grip her cheek follows. A taunt to complete the submission- so she knows I feel for her, that I do this because I know what it does to her; a taunt because it won't come again. Once more the strap falls, eliciting this time a whimper form her moist lips. Taking a great handful of hair I force her neck to cairn whilst her face is pressed to the floor. Each cheek in turn hit then held by suppleness of quickly warming leather, and each strike coming quicker on the heals of the last. Her cries come loudly and with each sound I tug on my hold. When she starts to calm and except pain's caress I find my stride. For some minutes the strikes fall in raped succession, then the strikes slow and my hand starts to linger on her ass. She welcomes the touch with rolling hips and short sighs. The strokes fall silent as I spread the round cheeks of her ass to drawing circles round her hole, my thumb presses on her hole and my thigh grinds her pussy. The grinding slows as she begins to sigh and heave.

I lean over her back to whisper to her. "Good girl," then in barely more than a breath, "One more time? She whimpers in the way she does and I can tell her face is pouting in the way it does, then I smile softly in the way I do that says I am not finished.

Her state increasingly agitated I draw her up to a knelling posture; legs spread, hands on head. I lean into her pressing my body to hers kissing her deeply. My hands remove her skirt as I teller to stay still. My hand slides over her wetness and rubs itself in, pressing in on her. I kiss her cheek and mouth and she returns them with great passion, then pull away. She leans forward mouth slightly open pleading with teary eyes for the touch of my lips on hers. My hand lingers on her sex, fingers still at their play at their work. My free hand roughly squeezes her breasts.

"You want to cum?"

She nods, her mouth open slightly- their moist lips glistening.

"You will," a pause to twist a nipple, a wicked shine in my eyes, "but not yet. Face to the floor. Ass up, legs spread."

She hesitates for no longer than the span of one heavy, weary sigh but her thoughts of conflict played on her face as plainly if she spoke them to the watching crowd. Need soon wins out over embarrassment and pain. She lowers herself to the floor and positions herself to the order I gave.

The strap falls lightly across her ass, but no soothing hand this time. It falls six times more, each harder than the last and still no rest or hand rub the pain out of her fiery ass. A sharp blow crosses her inner thigh, and she starts to cry. Then just a brief pause before the next strike lands on the other thigh. Tears stream down her blushed cheeks as she waits for the next blow. No pauses now as the blows fall on her thighs and ass. The strap comes up between her legs to land on her cunt, then another blow to her ass then one to her cunt.

Taunting I ask, "You still want to cum?" "Yes," she screams trough half chocked sobs. I grab her mound and press hard, my fingers sliding in its slick opening. Her juices flow in a sticky warm tickle down my hand to form a pool on the floor.

"Then cum for me- show these people how you cum."

My free hand smacks her ass with building force and rapidity. My fingers push farther in to run the course of her, my hand soon follows; excepted eagerly in it twists and turns. Thrusting herself on it as if it was a cock, she bucks and moans.

"Cum!" I say, and she cums. My thrusting slackens as her spamming slit calms and quivers around my hand for moments after. I lean in close to her ear.

"Good girl."