tagBDSMThe Tree House

The Tree House

byCaseyDobbs1©

I will return to some of the other stories that I've partially completed. This was something that flowed today. I hope you enjoy.

Please take the time to vote and comment. Feedback is always appreciated.


*****

We'd arrived.

It was my birthday present. With a spring littered with health problems and other relatives' birthdays, Isabelle and I had decided to celebrate mine a little later in the summer.

We've got enough stuff.

Stuff. Lots of Stuff; big stuff; little stuff; our house is littered with stuff. Isabelle and I had decided a few years ago that rather than contribute to the stuff pile, we would give each other the gift of experiences.

This year she had purchased a stay in a tree house for me. If you've read some of our other stories, you know that I am the perpetual 13 year old boy. This gift was AWESOME!

The tree house overlooked a babbling river. It would provide a soothing backdrop of sound for the duration of our stay. You had to climb a ladder to get into the house, but a block and tackle connected to a basket allowed you to pull up your luggage and supplies.

After loading some supplies, Isabelle's suitcase, my bag and the sex toy suitcase into the basket I scampered up the ladder to haul our necessities up to the platform that encircled the house.

Once lifted, you could lock off the rope, open a small gate and pull your items in. Isabelle made her way up the ladder to landing and asked:

"What do you think?"

I told her I was over the moon happy. This was the neatest gift I had ever received. We looked around, it slept 6, but you had to be a friendly 6. It would be comfortable for just the 2 of us. We took a self guided tour, The bathroom was a modest affair, the commode was flushable, that had become the baseline for us staying anywhere. I noticed that the bathroom seemed to be missing a shower. I asked Isabelle if she was aware when she booked.

"Yes, let's finish the tour."

This disappointed me. After a day without air conditioning in the humidity, I became a ripe guy. I wouldn't even sleep with me.

The kitchenette would serve, a hot plate, a couple of pans and the use of a barbecue outside. Did I mention: A FREAKIN TREEHOUSE!

The sitting room, had a pull out, a TV and a DVD player. open windows overlooked the river and let in a cool breeze and the sound of water on the rocks.

As I looked at the center support post, I imagined Isabelle tied to it. It was to be an interesting stay.

A ladder in the center of the house that allowed you to climb into the bedroom. To come down you could take the ladder or there was a brass pole that went through a second hole.

The entire place had a decor similar to our houses and bedrooms when we where kids in the 70's but more so. If you had it in your house in the 70's it was in this tree house. Farah Fawcett Poster - check, Duke's of Hazard General Lee Poster - check, Charlie's angel posters - check, ashtrays of various types glass - Check, Lighters with logos - check. It was all here. We walked down memory lane - to the decorating disaster that was the 70's.

Isabelle invited me to go out onto the balcony. As we walked out from the bedroom she pointed out the shower. It was an outdoor shower mounted to our tree. A giant rain shower head would pour warm water down on you.

"You are becoming a nudist!" I said.

Isabelle laughed and said she'd asked if the shower was private and the proprietor provided plenty of reassurance.

It was 2:00 PM, the proprietor said he would be by between 4 and 5 to welcome us and collect the rest of the cost of the stay.

"Let's try it out, Isabelle."

With that I ran in grabbed our soap and shampoo and she started the water. We stripped down and got into the warm stream of water. I looked at my Isabelle; her beautiful white skin gleamed in the sunshine. Her big blue eyes melted for me as we kissed and I moved her thick mane of reddish brown hair under the water. With Isabelle's head under the water, I soaked her mane through and through. I washed and rinsed her hair then applied conditioner. As the conditioner soaked I took the soap and began to scrub her body.

"You know, if men were in charge of washing women's breasts they'd shine."

An old joke Isabelle used to remind me that there were other parts of her body that needed washing too. I scrubbed her shoulders and her strong back. I then scrubbed her pubic mound and legs; finally her rounded bottom came under my careful ministrations.

After I had spent enough time to make Isabelle all sparkly clean, it was her turn to wash me. She started at my bald head, I'd shaved it for years, and washed my scalp. Isabelle slowly worked down my body doing my back, and my chest, my armpits. She got to my cock and spent extra time there. I soon got hard, and she giggled at my predicament.

As she rinsed me off, she got down on her knees and looked up at me.

"Happy Birthday Master."

My cock disappeared into her mouth. On the first stroke she got about half of it into her mouth. As she withdrew her tongue swirled around the head and flicked over the opening. I swore like a trooper.

"Fuck, oh Fuck, that's so..."

My hips were thrusting but her mouth reacting to my thrusts. She continued to tease the tip, riding my thrusts, not allowing any more of my cock into her mouth. I'd had enough of the teasing. I took her head and thrust slowly. I pushed further and further. I pushed until I felt her throat relax and let my cock in.

After a few moments of exquisite agony, with the love of my life on her knees in front of me while the river ran down below and the water from a warm shower washed over us, I pulled her up and held her and kissed her.

"You belong to me baby girl; this is the best birthday present ever."

"I love you Alex."

We finished our shower and headed into the tree house to open a bottle of wine and relax. As we knew this was going to be a significant play weekend we each only had a single glass.

The proprietor came, and we chatted about banalities for a bit. He told us about the quirks of the place. Like any older home, there were things you needed to look out for, if a breaker blew, how to light the barbecue. Once I'd received my instruction, I'd asked him if the river was swimmable.

"No, down the road there is a sweet little swimming hole. The water from the river forms a pool. You can still play in the current, but it isn't as dangerous as here, and it is deeper."

I'd thanked him and he was on his way.

I'd planned the menu for our stay, that evening we barbecued a couple of small tuna steaks; made a beautiful salad, with baked potato and all the fixins.

We ate out on the deck, right next to the river. It was grand.

~~*~~

Although we identify as a D/s couple, we've tried to raise our relationship out of the darkness. Every time I dominate my Isabelle, every time she submits to me, it is done with the utmost caring and respect. We work very hard to have a power exchange while maintaining the love and the adoration for each other. My domination is not the result of needing to own her or have her submit, rather we treat it as an insanely passionate need for her. As a result, our play may not seem as rough as others, but it works for us.

It is a balance that is sometimes difficult to maintain. We'd come through a rough winter with some health concerns, and had one opportunity to play. (See our story The Brat) Since that time, My Dom side had given way to something else. I'd become docile with my perceived fragility of my Isabelle. The docility had manifested in a become afraid to hurt her. I'd become afraid to dominate her. We'd had some great vanilla sex, and it was wonderful, but the aftercare that D/s couples crave had not been there.

We'd discussed it, and she assured me of my idiocy over my perceived fragility of her. We were better on this little mini vacation and we were going to enjoy it.

~~*~~

"Isabelle."

"Yes, Alex?"

"Come here Isabelle. I need you."

It was after dinner and we we'd just finished coffee and some glorious strawberry ice cream on our deck. She was sitting beside me. She came and knelt in front of me. I took out her collar from my pocket and slipped it on her.

"Who is your master Isabelle?"

"You are Alex. I belong to you."

"Let's head inside."

With that she got up and started to walk in front of me. I walked up to her, pulled her arms behind her; grabbed them with one hand. With the other, I wrapped an arm around her and pushed/walked her into the tree house. I whispered into her ear:

"I love you. You're my lusty wench. I want you."

She whimpered and a soft moan escaped her lips.

I reached into the bag and pulled out a short piece of rope. My beautiful Isabelle dressed in a simple blouse and skirt gasped when I pulled her arms around the post. She faced the post and her arms were tied around it in front of her.

Now that she was secure I could take my time preparing for the rest of the evening. I took out our safety shears, a few more sections of rope, her we-vibe touch, a Pipedream glass dildo, a few impact toys and her Hitachi magic wand. All the while I was talking to her, soothing her, ensuring that she stayed in her current head space.

"Isabelle, I haven't tested our shears in a while. They need to be tested."

With that I clipped our thickest piece of rope we kept for the purpose.

"I don't know, I think maybe they need a more rigorous test."

I stood and got close to my Isabelle. My hand rubbed over her bottom. Her eyes were lidded as her mind began to leave the myriad of thoughts, and focus on the here and now.

I brought the shears up to her top and started to cut it away, I thought she was going to protest, but she remained quiet, her eyes and body telling me this was indeed a good thing.

Next went her skirt. The shears left it in tatters.

There she stood, in a pair of panties. Her beautiful breasts heaved with her breathing.

I kissed her. The kiss said I love you and I am pleased. My hands ran over her body. I knelt at her feet and tied a rope spreader bar to keep her legs separated.

I stepped back to admire at my beautiful wife.

Her wrists were bound to the center support of our 1970's decorated tree house; her legs held open by a rope spreader bar; her clothes lay tattered at her feet. She was naked and glistening with perspiration. Her breasts, heaved, her perfect pink nipples where puckered from the excitement. We had needed this.

From our table of implements, I grabbed her we-vibe touch. I used it at the back of her head where her skull met her neck. She moaned and leaned back into me. When I trailed across her body and used them on her nipples she jumped. From her nipples the path led once again around to her back where I pushed it hard into the spot at the top of her ass. With this last spot her hips began to thrust. As I trailed the vibrator down her legs to the back of her knees, I saw moisture soaking through her panties.

Throughout all of this, I continued to speak to Isabelle; a mantra:

"You belong to me, you are my wife, my partner, my lusty wench."

I trailed the vibrator up her inner thighs. She bent at the waist to give me better access to her vagina.

Kneeling behind her, I took the vibrator and pressed it into the wet spot of her panties. My beautiful wife glowed with perspiration and desire. The sounds that escaped her were a cross between a whimper and a growl.

I turned off the vibrator.

Isabelle swore.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"It's OK Isabelle. It is only for a minute."

I ran my hand over her backside, and delivered a small swat. My reward was a moan and hips that moved far longer than the single swat spanking called for. I smacked her again, harder. This time the onslaught brought out a whimper and a wiggle. I alternated swatting and rubbing her bottom for a few minutes, until her backside reddened.

I took the shears and cut away her panties. I saw the inner lips of her vagina poking out. They were swollen with desire.

I checked in with Isabelle.

I went to the table and got the dildo and the wand. I took up station behind Isabelle again. This time I inserted the dildo and touched her clitoris with the wand. As I turned it on she jumped.

As Isabelle approached her orgasms, there was always a point of calm before the release. She had reached this point now.

I turned off the vibrator and pulled out the dildo.

Again she swore.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

As quickly as I could, I replaced the dildo with my cock and began to hammer in and out of Isabelle as hard as I could.

She continued to swear, but it turned from frustration to pleasure.

"Fuck! Fuck!... oh Shit! Fuck! Don't stop. Fuck Fu..."

And she came. She clamped down, and I felt her vagina spasm around my cock. I slowed my thrusting down so she could enjoy the spasms.

After her orgasm her knees were weak. I untied her and supported her over to the sofa. I lay her there and put on some soothing music. This had been what we needed. I wrapped her in a blanket and headed off to the kitchen. I came back quickly with a chocolate bar and a tea. I lay beside her and held her close.

"I love you baby girl. You belong to me. You are my everything."

I coaxed a little of the chocolate and tea into her. She snuggled in. Soon in the afterglow of her orgasm, she fell asleep.

She woke up 30 minutes later with her head on my lap. I fed her a little more of the chocolate and tea.

"Hello sleepy head."

"Wow! You're amazing."

"I know. I love you Isabelle."

"Alex, I..."

My Isabelle was overcome with tears. I held her. Aftercare; it was the time when we felt closest.

We headed to bed. We both fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke up at 3:30 with a need to pee, I sat up and gazed at Isabelle. I was always amazed at how my baby girl's body reacted. I got up and headed for the ladder, then I remembered and saw the brass pole with the hole in the floor.

I learned something. If you are going to slide down a pole, you should be wearing PJ's. My skin and hair, caught all the way down the pole. It wasn't fun.

When I climbed back up to bed, My Isabelle's bottom was out from under the covers. She was sleeping on her stomach, with a pillow under her hips. I simply couldn't resist. I climbed into bed and positioned myself behind her.

I started rubbing my cock against the opening of her vagina. She moaned and pushed back. Soon I was inside her thrusting. She was pushing back against me. Barely awake she made love to me in this dreamlike state.

As I came I whispered:

"Isabelle, You belong to me."

She answered:

"Claim me Alex, I'm yours."

I came deep inside her.

I wrapped my arms around her and we fell asleep.

We woke up at 9:00 refreshed. A great day dawned before us. We gathered some picnic supplies and headed off to the swimming hole. As we didn't see another soul we went skinny dipping, as we both loved to be naked in the water.

That night we made quiet love. This love making was in the afterglow of yesterday's intense session. There were no spankings or ropes, only words of reassurance and caring. It resulted in orgasms that were almost simultaneous.

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