deep-rooted submissive instincts
told her this was going to be utterly new and more intense than anything before
in her entire life.
She smiled
at him then lowered her eyes. “What next, John?”
“Just
stand there and let the breeze tickle your nipples.”
Easy to
do, or perhaps not so easy as he moved out of her line of vision, taking his
backpack with him.
What did
he have in there? Restraints? A
whip? He hardly needed that with his belt, but… What did he have in
mind? How was he going to tie her down? And would the stone be cold against her
naked body? Rough? Seemed smooth enough under her hand, but a casual touch wasn’t
anywhere near the same as having her body tied fast with lichen and unevenness
against her flesh.
She took a
deep breath. She trusted John or she wouldn’t be here, naked, alone with him
and the expanse of the Bristol Channel between them and the next other living
person.
That
thought sent a delicious shutter of excitement and anticipation rippling though
her. Her cunt was wet, she could smell her arousal and
her clit pulsed with expectation.
Time for another slow breath.
“Turn
around!”
He’d
spread a blanket on the stone top to protect her from the roughness. Nice of him. Or was it because he intended her to lie there
a long time?
He held
out his hand. “Climb up and lie on your back.”
She
managed that with little difficulty, although the sun made her squint.
“Don’t
worry, I’m going to blindfold you.” he said. “Do you give me permission?”
Did she?
Hell, why not? “Of course.”
It was
soft, not the leather one he’d used on occasion, this was all silky against her
face. A scarf perhaps? One of her
own? Whatever it was, it blocked out the sun and light, and left her
feeling isolated, solitary and lost in her own body. He lifted her head and
placed a something underneath before easing it back down. Much
more comfortable than lying on the stone. Yes, she was going to be lying
here a while.
“Raise
your hands over your head.”
Easy to
do, but as his fingers closed over one wrist and pulled her arm back, a wave of
helplessness, or perhaps anticipation of helplessness, caught deep inside. She couldn’t
see what he used to tie her. But tie her arms down he did, leaving her a few
inches of ease and wiggle room but she was as good as immobile. She might be
able the move her legs, but what use was that? She was caught, pinioned, and
the next best thing to helpless. She let out a sigh of sheer pleasure.
“Enjoying
this?” John asked as he brushed her face. “I am. I love having you helpless and
totally in my power. And you will be, you know? Helpless. You can scream and yell and shout until you make yourself hoarse but no one
will hear but me. And I,” he paused to whisper in her ear, “like to hear you
beg and scream.”
She knew
that already.
She sensed
him move away. No doubt to take care of her legs. But no. He was tugging and pulling on her left nipple, it was hard already and didn’t
need much encouragement to stand tight and tall as he clipped on a nipple
clamp. It wasn’t unduly tight, just enough to make her aware of the
constriction.
He reached
over her body. She felt the brush of his shirt on her skin as he twisted and
tweaked her right nipple, and clamped it.
“Don’t
take them off,” he said. Very funny! As if she could take it off with her toes.
“Spread your legs for me, Ellen.”
John’s
breath caught. His heart skipped a beat too. She was so wonderful, so
beautiful, so utterly gorgeous and submissive. And his. Dear God, he hoped! She was the answer to all his lonely years peopled with fun
and delightful play partners who left him empty. Ellen warmed the cockles of
his heart and the recesses of his soul. What it was to have a woman who was
submissive, totally confident and aware of her own needs. And wasn’t hesitant
in letting him know.
He smiled,
looking down at her sunlit-spread body.
“Give me
your right ankle.”
She
told her this was going to be utterly new and more intense than anything before
in her entire life.
She smiled
at him then lowered her eyes. “What next, John?”
“Just
stand there and let the breeze tickle your nipples.”
Easy to
do, or perhaps not so easy as he moved out of her line of vision, taking his
backpack with him.
What did
he have in there? Restraints? A
whip? He hardly needed that with his belt, but… What did he have in
mind? How was he going to tie her down? And would the stone be cold against her
naked body? Rough? Seemed smooth enough under her hand, but a casual touch wasn’t
anywhere near the same as having her body tied fast with lichen and unevenness
against her flesh.
She took a
deep breath. She trusted John or she wouldn’t be here, naked, alone with him
and the expanse of the Bristol Channel between them and the next other living
person.
That
thought sent a delicious shutter of excitement and anticipation rippling though
her. Her cunt was wet, she could smell her arousal and
her clit pulsed with expectation.
Time for another slow breath.
“Turn
around!”
He’d
spread a blanket on the stone top to protect her from the roughness. Nice of him. Or was it because he intended her to lie there
a long time?
He held
out his hand. “Climb up and lie on your back.”
She
managed that with little difficulty, although the sun made her squint.
“Don’t
worry, I’m going to blindfold you.” he said. “Do you give me permission?”
Did she?
Hell, why not? “Of course.”
It was
soft, not the leather one he’d used on occasion, this was all silky against her
face. A scarf perhaps? One of her
own? Whatever it was, it blocked out the sun and light, and left her
feeling isolated, solitary and lost in her own body. He lifted her head and
placed a something underneath before easing it back down. Much
more comfortable than lying on the stone. Yes, she was going to be lying
here a while.
“Raise
your hands over your head.”
Easy to
do, but as his fingers closed over one wrist and pulled her arm back, a wave of
helplessness, or perhaps anticipation of helplessness, caught deep inside. She couldn’t
see what he used to tie her. But tie her arms down he did, leaving her a few
inches of ease and wiggle room but she was as good as immobile. She might be
able the move her legs, but what use was that? She was caught, pinioned, and
the next best thing to helpless. She let out a sigh of sheer pleasure.
“Enjoying
this?” John asked as he brushed her face. “I am. I love having you helpless and
totally in my power. And you will be, you know? Helpless. You can scream and yell and shout until you make yourself hoarse but no one
will hear but me. And I,” he paused to whisper in her ear, “like to hear you
beg and scream.”
She knew
that already.
She sensed
him move away. No doubt to take care of her legs. But no. He was tugging and pulling on her left nipple, it was hard already and didn’t
need much encouragement to stand tight and tall as he clipped on a nipple
clamp. It wasn’t unduly tight, just enough to make her aware of the
constriction.
He reached
over her body. She felt the brush of his shirt on her skin as he twisted and
tweaked her right nipple, and clamped it.
“Don’t
take them off,” he said. Very funny! As if she could take it off with her toes.
“Spread your legs for me, Ellen.”
John’s
breath caught. His heart skipped a beat too. She was so wonderful, so
beautiful, so utterly gorgeous and submissive. And his. Dear God, he hoped! She was the answer to all his lonely years peopled with fun
and delightful play partners who left him empty. Ellen warmed the cockles of
his heart and the recesses of his soul. What it was to have a woman who was
submissive, totally confident and aware of her own needs. And wasn’t hesitant
in letting him know.
He smiled,
looking down at her sunlit-spread body.
“Give me
your right ankle.”
She
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