textfiles/sex/EROTICA/D/darkpass.txt

                           DARK PASSION

     She  lay  across the low padded  bench,  arms  outstretched,
chained  bracelets  holding her in place.  Knees  on  the  floor,
lashed  down  to the sides of the bench, spread  wide,  her  gown
pulled  up above her bottom exposing all of her  pleasures.   Her
skin glistened with sweat from the heat of the firelight and  her
own  trembling.  Her hair was bound up on her head,  showing  the
graceful curves of her neck and shoulders.
     He had left her like this, after first forcing her to  strip
naked  in front of him.  He had put the collar and  bracelets  on
her,  his eyes holding her in a trance, attaching the  chains  of
bondage.
     At  his  command, she knelt before him.  Her  slender  hands
trembled  as she reached up to part the folds of his  robe.   Her
mouth  slack, she wet her lips as her eyes remained fixed on  his
erection.
     He  had  made  her ask, made her ask to take  him  into  her
mouth.   Finally he had consented and slowly her  hands  caressed
him, chains faintly clinking, fingers wrapping around firmly, one
hand cradling and gripping beneath, to draw him deep within,  hot
and firm within, as deeply as she could manage.
     His  hands drew her from him and he pulled her to her  feet.
He told her to put on her finest nightgown, and after the  silken
folds had settled over her figure, motioned her to the bench.  He
locked  her  bracelets together and grasping the  chains  at  her
collar, forced her to her knees, this time before the bench.   He
drew  her down, stretched her out, arms first, across  the  bench
and chained her into place.  He bound her legs at the knee to the
legs  of the bench, drawing her thighs apart.  Slowly,  ever  so,
his hands raised the silken gown.  Gently, it slid along her skin
until  the folds rested piled up on the small of her  back.   The
same  hands  freely  felt her, felt her silken  curves  and  warm
softness and discovered that she was very, very wet.
     He  said,  "I  am pleased." rose and left  her  waiting  and
wanting his return.
     Silently,  he crossed behind her, and with  no  forewarning,
his  hands  spread her thighs and his erection slid  deep  within
her.   She  made  soft sounds at the feel  of  it,  the  pleasure
stretched her with a slight edge of pain.  Then just as  suddenly
he  withdrew, leaving her for the moment empty and  wanting,  her
breath coming quick and shallow.
     His fingers closed over her hair and pulled her head up from
the  bench.  His eyes again held her mind as the chains held  her
body,  in bondage.  His mouth drew closer as her lips  parted  in
anticipation,  then her mouth was covered with his, open  to  his
forceful searching tongue.  As he drew away, his hand came up  to
her face holding a leather whip.
     The handle was dark, decorated with white ropework and brass
rings.   A cat-o-nine tails, it swayed gently in his hand in  the
firelight.
     Her eyes widened slightly but remained fixed on the whip  as
he  brought it closer.  He caressed her face with it, drawing  it
across  her cheekbones and down her throat to her  breasts.   She
felt  it's  smooth softness and inhaled the scent, the  touch  of
leather a velvet threat.
     Slowly,  lingeringly,  the leather strands slid  across  her
nipples, straining erect under the touch.
     He  stood, straddled the bench and with one hand guided  his
erect  phallus  to her mouth with the whip.   He  stroked  deeply
within.  She was held fast, arms and legs contracting against her
bonds.  Her excitement flowed, hot and trembling, from deep with-
in.
     The  whip lightly struck her bottom and remained there,  the
leather  strips  trailing across the sensitive skin.   It  struck
again, lightly as he thrust hard into her mouth.
     He  stood  back, moved around her, gazing  deeply  at  every
curve and valley of her bound figure.
     Softly,  a kiss where before the whip had fallen.   A  warm,
wet tongue licked and kissed it's way to her wet heat, toward her
center, stoking her trembling fire, almost to the breaking point,
and  then was still.  He rose, and placing the head of his  erec-
tion  at  her entrance, was quickly deep within  her,  stretching
her, filling her deep.
     Within  her, he played the whip slowly across her  back  and
bottom.  She felt the strands slide across her skin, the  leather
creaking softly as it moved in his hand.  She felt the cold brass
rings  in  the handle when he reached underneath  to  caress  her
stomach  and breasts.  The handle brushed across her  nipple  and
pressed against warm softness in contrasting sensations.
     He  began.  Long, slow strokes, hard strokes.  Strong  hands
roughly  grasping her hips, he pulled himself deep,  driving  her
body into the padded bench.  She shook with the force that pound-
ed her body, face to the bench, arms straining against the  bonds
about her slender wrists.
     The  shock  waves caused her hair to fall,  soft  about  her
face, covering her lips drawn back in passionate strain.
     The  force  within  and without was  building,  each  thrust
driving  her higher until the peak came, and came,  she  clenched
and  straining, begging him please no more, but he did not  cease
until his heat had blossomed deep within her.
     He  released  her from the bench and drew her to  her  feet.
Her hands still bound, he led her to the bed, raised her arms  up
to behind her head and bound them to the bedpost.
     She  leaned  back against the bedpost, body slack  and  open
after  her release.  A drug-like trance filled her and deep  mov-
ing,  trembling  sensations  flowed over and  through  her  body.
Slowly  awareness returned and she saw him moving about the  room
in preparation, black silken robe flowing in the firelight.
     Her  gaze  was caught by her own reflection  in  the  mirror
behind him.  Slender arms bound in bracelets above her head, hair
in  wild disarray, deep shadows about her face.   The  flickering
firelight danced and played about her breasts and strong  thighs,
casting her figure in sharp relief, a shadowed, sensuous lady  in
the night.
     He  sat back in the chair, legs crossed, sipping a glass  of
wine.   His  fingers played around the lip of the glass  and  his
eyes  slowly caressed her body, missing nothing.  He covered  her
every inch, took in all.
     Never  before had she felt so exposed, so naked, and as  her
eyes dropped from his he softly laughed, enjoying her feeling.
     He  rose, lowered her hands and locked them together  before
her,  and returned to his seat.  "Now," he said, "Take  one  step
toward  me and turn around...slowly.  No, do not cover  yourself,
let  me see you.  Let me look at every part of you, every  curve.
Show me...everything.  Now."
     The  tension in her stomach grew under his gaze and  as  she
fought  to control her trembling hands she turned.  Slowly,  ever
so,  she turned, her awareness of his gaze intense,  feeling  the
exposed side of her body like a summer chill.
     As  her eyes returned to his she saw the whip, slender  dark
and menacing in his hands.
     He  opened  his  robe.  "Now kneel...and  take  me  in  your
mouth."   She did so, eyes closed as her bound hands reached  for
him.
     He felt hot in her hand, and as she leaned forward doing  as
he  wished, she again felt the whip, this time it softly  slapped
against  her back and shoulders.  She heard his voice  above  her
head,  softly,  "Do well, my lady, for later you  shall  be  well
rewarded."  His hands caressed her head, rubbing her temples  and
the  back  of her neck and shoulders as she took  him  deep.   He
lifted her head.
     He  put the whip around her neck and pulled her up  to  him.
She  closed her eyes as she felt the rigid heat against  her  be-
tween  her  breasts.   He leaned forward to kiss  her,  long  and
searching,  his  tongue moving in gentle  caresses.   Slowly,  he
kissed her, lingering on every movement, capturing her, surround-
ing her, enveloping her with a gossamer veil as if time seemed to
slow,  flowing like honey.  She lost track of time and space.   A
slow fire began to burn low down in her belly.  Different from  a
quick flare of passion, this heat was slow-building and deep, the
kind of fire that builds white-hot coals, a searing heat, a shim-
mering  white heat from a furnace of molten lava.  The heat of  a
woman whose nerves are filled with flowing fire.
     He  released her, and as the tension in her body burned,  he
reached  one hand up to her face and caressed her flushed  cheek-
bone.  His hand felt cool upon her face.  Her mouth hung slightly
open.  Her hands slowly ran up either thigh and met in the middle
to  grip him once again.  She pumped once, twice,  thrice  before
her  head bowed once again and she engulfed him in her  mouth,  a
wisp  of hair hanging down over her forehead and across her  hol-
lowed  cheeks.   Deep  she took him, drawing him  down  into  her
mouth, her hands running everywhere, sliding, gripping, kneading,
fingers  searching for ways to release.  She was no  longer  her-
self.  She was a firechild, out of control, a berserker  warrior-
woman holding nothing back in the battling that was the  cresting
wave  of  the  moment.  Her soul wailed like  a  banshee  flowing
through her mind like the molten lava flowing between her legs.
     He  pulled  her hands from him and placed  them  behind  her
head.  Reaching down, he grasped her breasts, roughly, and lifted
her to her feet.  She could barely stand, but there was no  need,
for he lashed her to the tall bedpost, her hands raised above her
head,  the soft ropes crisscrossing across her chest and  between
her  thighs,  holding her open wide for him to see.   She  sagged
against the ropes, the wet heat flowing out of her.
     He  reached  into a small wooden chest and brought  out  two
small clamps connected by a chain.  She stared at them,  thinking
that  he  couldn't  mean to do what her  suddenly  burning  erect
nipples  told her he was going to do.  He slowly reached for  her
nipples and squeezed them.