| The New Moon 9/6/02 Since she had awoken that morning her mood had been different. There was a raw edge to it. Normally so docile, she had urges, desires that she longed for suddenly. Through out the day her thoughts filled with images of him, the whip in hand. The way he would use it�s tails to kiss her bare flesh before he himself would. How he tied her wrists and ankles, then he used it on her body, whipping it across her breasts, watching her nipples grow harder. Then on to her tummy, the red welts rising brought even more pleasure to his eyes. His whip would move lower then, always he tied her ankles apart, stretching her legs wide so that the tongues of the lash could caress and tease her innermost secrets. He would tease her and torment her with that lash and his fingers, and occasional flick of his tongue across her forbidden lips, raising her desire, only to take it away again when he saw her pleasure. A grin crossed her lips, he could be so cruel, but his touch she could never forget. His touch was always gentle and full of passion. She looked up at the clock. It was time for her to go. She had to prepare herself before she was to meet him. And if late, his whip would be even crueler. As the hour grew later, this strange mood enhanced. She had almost a primal hunger as she dressed for him. First the black stockings she pulled up her long legs, fastened securely to the black lace garters. Her hands moved up her legs, but instead of stopping, her fingers wandered, caressing the smooth shaved lips between her legs. Her eyes closed, her head leaning back as a soft purr escapes her lips. A single finger moves up inside of her, gliding in and out of the hot wetness. She moans softly this time, her thumb caressing the hard little rose bud between her legs, her finger now moving faster. Soon, her body begins to tremble; a loud moan is accompanied by the sudden rush of hot fluid between her legs. Lying back on the bed, she allows her breathing to return to normal, her heart pounding in her chest. Her nipples poking at the thin lace fabric of her bra. What had she done? Never before had she done that. He would be upset if he knew. When she sat up to finish dressing, the light musky scent of your juices rose up to fill her senses. Her hunger deepened. Her finger returned to that spot it enjoyed, but this time didn�t linger. Once covered with the nectar, she raised that finger to her lips, tasting its sweet flavor. She finished dressing, a short black leather skirt, the black silk blouse, and black leather boots to complete it. She had to hurry so she would not be late. As she quickly walked to his place, she knew tonight would be different. A playful grin on her face as she knocked upon his door. When he opened it, he had his usual stern look, yet the sparkle in his eyes. His brow furrowed when he saw her grin. A hand already delving between her legs, he leaned in to kiss her. The shocked look on his face as he tasted her lips, and felt the sticky wetness between her legs, made her grin more. She laughed softly, wondering if he even realized she did not wear panties this eve. Her hand caresses his cheek; she winked at him and then walked towards the bedroom. She didn�t bother to take anything off. When he walked in the room behind her, he laid on the bed as usual, commanding her to strip slowly for him. She just grinned at him. �I see you need the lash tonight to rid you of that insolence.� He laughed, never leaving the bed. He commanded her to get his whip for him. She turned, walking to the dresser and picking up that leather whip. The many tails caressing her hand as she held it. Her hunger grew. She turned slowly, walking back to the bed, the whip slapping against her thigh. She climbed on the bed, straddling him, her hands running up his chest and then his arms as she stared into his eyes, the whip beside her on the bed. He could not get over the shock of the sudden change in her. He never even notices that she had wrapped the black silk cord around his wrist as she kissed him. She wrapped the other one as just as easily, and as she sat up, she pulled the cords, cinching his hands to the iron rails of the bed before he even knew what happened to him. And as he struggled to free his wrists, she climbed off of him, binding his ankles, legs apart. He had taught her well. She watched him for months every time he tied her to the bed. She watched the intricate knots he made, and how she learned to tie them for herself. She stood next to him then, just smiling at him, so helpless in his present situation. She bent over him, picking up the whip, looking out to the black night sky. No moon at all this eve. She walked away from him for just a moment, returning with a few �toys� to use besides the whip. She was going to blindfold him, but then thought better of it. Instead she used the silk scarf as a gag, would not want his screams to be heard. His eyes widened when he saw the toys she had brought with. The ice cubes, the oils did not bother him, but when she showed him the candle, the lighter, and let him know it was not for mood lighting, he became frightened. The fear in his eyes spurred her hunger as she cracked his whip against her thigh relishing in its bite. His shirt was easy to rip off. She giggled as the buttons flew. His pants were another story though. She had to get the scissors for them. He started to squirm as she cut up his pants leg, and she warned him off what may be removed if he were to make her slip with the scissors. He held perfectly still after that, and she kissed him softly, letting him know he was a good boy, but, he still needed discipline. His eyes never left hers as she brought the whip down against his flesh. � by darkest angell |