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“Come. Let’s get started.”
“I can’t wait,” she says seductively, allowing me to lead her by the hand. Today, I will take her into The Chamber. I have converted one of my three bedrooms into my personal dungeon, complete with faux rock panels covering the walls, recessed lighting, soft gray carpet, and thick window treatments to shut out light. Hanging from the walls are a pair of stainless steel daggers, several whips, and two pairs of handcuffs. Several pieces of erotic bondage artwork are situated on each wall to add to the sexy, sensual, yet sinister, aura of the room.
Over in the left corner is a multi-position Saint Andrews Cross—an X-shaped support with restraints for the wrists and ankles—that can, in a matter of seconds, change from a cross to an inversion table to a spanking stand. It is for my more daring clients who crave being strapped to the cross, then whipped and strapped unforgivingly.
A portable stockade, spanking stand with red leather padding, a bondage box, as well as a black leather bondage chair—with its fully adjustable back, removable arm boards, and multiple bondage points—are situated about the room to add to the theme.
And for the final touch, a four-thousand-dollar steel bondage bed, with an adjustable sling support system, is centered in the middle of the room. Oh, how I love this room.
I unlock the door, then step in with Slick Heat on my heels. She takes in the décor. Her eyes gleaming with excitement as she walks deeper into the room. “I love being in this room.” Her hand glides over the St. Andrew’s Cross, then touches the manacles that hang from the arms.
“Remove your clothes,” I instruct, shutting the door behind us and turning on the recessed lights.
I eye her as she kicks off her heels, pulls her blouse off over her head, then shimmies out of her jeans. She peels off her silk panties, unveiling her slick petals. I lick my lips, eager to inhale her scent.
“Toss me your panties.”
She grins, tossing them in the air. I step in and catch the delicate fabric with one hand, pulling them up to my nose. The crotch area, damp and scented in her warm musk, causes my own cunt to pucker.
Her aroused pussy, excited by her sinful desires, always smells so sweet.
“Are you ready for your lashings?”
“Mmmhmm. I’ve been ready all day.”
I smile.
For today’s session I have decided to use the Saint Andrew’s Cross. And she is pleased, so very pleased. I can tell she is already on the edge of a climax as I take each of her wrists and place them in the padded restraints. Then I bend down and do the same for her ankles. After I have her strapped in, I slowly flip the cross up. She’s now upside down, her ankles and wrists bound; her legs spread apart. Her cunt and clit are wide open and ready. She is already soaked. Her shaved cunt dripping like a faucet.
I look down into her wanting, powerless eyes. Ease two fingers inside her pussy.
She moans.
She is hot. She wants to be touched. Wants the thudding ache in the center of her cunt to be caressed away. Not by fingers, not by tongue. But by lashes of a belt.
I pull my fingers out of her. Kneel down and force my wet fingers into her mouth. She licks them without direction. Her tongue thrusts out. She greedily sucks my fingers in.
“Yeah, that’s it, greedy little spoiled bitch. Suck my fingers clean.” I reach up with my other hand and reach between her thighs. She is wetter than ever.
I grin, pulling my fingers from her mouth, standing up.
She whimpers.
Anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac.
She knows how magical the belt is. How it hangs limp, then comes alive. Lash, by lash, the heat of the leather, the thrash. The end of the thick buckle wrapped around my hand. The sound it makes as it’s whirled into the air, then brought down, slashing into her aroused sex. The jolt of electricity that shoots through her after her cunt has been set afire over and over.
I tease her with the leather. Lay it over her sex, lightly tap it, then slide the length of the belt over it. She moans.
I taunt her with it. Popping her clit with it in rapid succession, stopping, then starting back again.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
“Ohhhh, yess!”
