55 lines
3.0 KiB
Plaintext
55 lines
3.0 KiB
Plaintext
Archive-name: Bondage/reward.txt
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Archive-author: Keisha J. Gray
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Archive-title: Reward, The
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It is New Orleans, in a large, beautiful room near the water.
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Gossamer curtains hang over the tall French windows, and the warm, soft
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breeze from the river floats them into the air. It is near dark. The
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flickering flames of seven vanilla candles struggle against the impending
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darkness; their light, earthy scent is like a caress.
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There is a huge canopied four-poster bed in the room. White cotton
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sheets envelop the mattress; the white down comforter has been pushed onto
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the floor. A handsome man, nude and tanned, is bound to the posts at the
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wrists and ankles with white leather handcuffs. His dark eyes lurk behind
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a white silk blindfold.
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I emerge from the dressing room, resplendent in a supple black
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leather bustier. It molds to my body like a second skin, pushing my breasts
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up, revealing my charming decotellage. Garters with tiny black leather
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bows dangle, catching and hugging black seamed stockings to my thighs.
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A G-string, also in black leather, conceals my trimmed mons. On my feet
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are black suede pumps, with a stylish yet comfortable two-inch heel. My
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long dark hair is down. A hint of eyeliner encircles my dark eyes; a
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subtle slash of light red lipstick highlights my mouth; my long fingernails
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are dusted with a polish of a natural sheen.
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In my right hand I wield a royal purple leather cat o' nine tails,
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a flash of brilliant color in this duotone scene.
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I walk slowly to the bed, brushing the soft, strong tails of the
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cat against my thigh. I grow excited, wet.
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"You're here," the man says. He struggles loosely against the
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restraints. "Please, hurry."
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I say nothing. I stand next to the bed and look down at him. His
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member is partially erect, straining to become something more. I stroke
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the cat lightly across his body, from head to toe: over the while silk that
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hides his eyes, the delineation of his collarbones, through his blonde-brown
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chest hair, over his stiffening cock, down over his thighs and calves and
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feet. I do this again and again. He moans loudly, his hips arching and
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bucking to meet the leather halfway. "Yes," he hisses. His cock is now
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rock hard, bobbing and jutting at the juncture of this thighs.
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"More, please." He's begging now. "Like that. Please. Please."
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I smile. I imagine his eyes, soft and brown, behind the blindfold.
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They have gazed into mine many a time: over succulent dinners, during long
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airline flights, after making rough, sweet love in the darkness. He has
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changed me, possessed me; transformed me into someone stronger and smarter
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than anyone I was before.
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I love him. I raise my arm high and bring the cat down, hard, onto
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his flat stomach. The tails snap viciously against his tanned skin, and
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he gasps in pain, in ecstasy.
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The strands of the cat have left faint red welts across his torso.
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My nipples harden, and I smile. But this is his reward; mine comes later.
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Again, I raise my arm.
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The End. Comments, reviews, offers of spankings welcomed. :-)
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--
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