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Geschreven door: seldom_restful Categorie: Waargebeurd Label(s): BDSM, Bondage, Dom / sub, Sado-Masochism, Spanking It is lovely, isn’t it? Yes, quite lovely. Danish? Some sort of Scandi design anyway. They’re so stylish, aren’t they? The Danes? Effortless, apparently. Something to do with Hygge, perhaps? In the centre of the room. Knees apart. Arse: high. Sternum pressed onto the unyielding chairback. Are you new to the area? The flats on the Kings Road? How. Lovely. Well done you. Quite an investment- you must have an eye for property and style! Well! You are here, aren’t you? We have some lovely things… Blinded to the world. Not a chink of light entering your retinas. You can hear me moving. Moving around you. The instructions are clear- “If you move, or say a single syllable, I will simply leave. If you cum, I will leave. Do you understand?” Nodded acquiescence. Ankles roped with purpose. Scant regard for anything other than effect. Comfort: secondplace. Aesthetic: immaterial. Left ankle to one arm of the chair. Right, to the other. Facing the back of the chair; knees spread. Cushioned by increasingly threadbare velvet. Now, I do need to add a petit health warning; I know the velvet is just adorable- god- just feel it- but it’s not suitable if you’re going to use it a lot. All of my pieces are professionally cleaned of course- it’s a perk- but this chair’s not suitable if we’re going to have breakfast cereal or God-know-what-else smeared into it. I bind your wrists. You’re hugging the chairback; the long, elegant curves of the ribs of the chair presenting you a familiar form to hold. I secure you; forced slightly back onto your haunches; the effect of which is to leave you open. I orbit you. Observing. Adjusting your blindfold, you can only imagine the sight; the perfection you present to me. As my fingers graze your face, you react as if you’ve been starved- forgetting my instruction to you- your intent isn’t clear other than to feel the warmth of my hand again, on your cheek; your face; my fingers: in your mouth. Have you thought of a table? We’ve got a stunning reclaimed oak frame with a new reinforced glass top. So simple. So chic. The table was a consideration. You: ranged on top in a similar pose to which you find yourself now. The window of the glass, glaring into you from below. The chair, though, offers me the shape that I envisaged would, and is supporting the sculpture of you like a scaffold. I’d considered doing this quickly. Tape, perhaps. A few, perfunctory unwinding turns ‘round each of your wrists and ankles. But somehow the rope is aesthetic. The column of your limb, snug, sweaty, next to the hard, unforgiving, warm-honey of the wood. I can’t quite assimilate- digest- the visual assault on my senses. Do you entertain much? “Count with me”, I begin. You know what’s coming. You nod. Even though you’ve played this dumb-ass game a hundred times, the odd position; the atypical use of this everyday furniture has knocked your balance, and with it your certainty. You’re still mentally, futilely trying to calculate the odds of you falling off the chair, when the first, hard blow lands across your buttocks. The blow isn’t that hard. Hard enough to elicit your first, grateful gasp. But your centre of gravity is off; you think the chair is going over. Of course: it doesn’t, but you forget to utter the number: one. “Oh dear. Start again…” Of course we have some beautiful bits and pieces. ‘Objet’. Decanters- vintage, of course; glasses. Table linen. Staying with the Scandi-chic feel: all designed to give your dining room that effortless charm... ‘Three’. ‘Good girl...’ Through distraction, it has taken you 12 attempts to count out three consecutive spanks. Consequently, you can feel the pulse of your blood, throbbing, negotiating its way through the damaged capillaries in your arse. But I’m sensing you’re becoming inured. Immune to the distractions of, between spanks, me walking to your face, and sliding my cock: rigid, into your throat, your tongue somehow remaining soft as your lips grip me. No longer put-off your count by my incessant tongue, or fingers, urging you to disobey my order not to cum, leaving you teetering on the brink, before my stinging, poker-hot palm takes you back from the ledge. The base of the candle is over an inch in diameter. Smooth beeswax. Rounded: a bit. I run it from where your throat now rests on the chair, and, collecting your generous sweat-drool, I collect its equivalent with my fingers from your obliging cunt. Adorned, the blunt candle-base presses, insistently against your anus; the tight ring of muscle's resistance: futile. Stretched open at both ends; you no longer suck at my cock, more like holding me in your mouth as you sob. Well! Hasn’t time flown. Some exquisite choices. Discerning. Shall I say the figure quickly? Hahaha, whisper it? Probably best. Such style and quality is never, ever cheap- there’s always a piper to pay, isn’t there? The thing is, this will never go out of fashion. And of course, the memories you’ll share together with each other: priceless. Misschien vind je een van de onderstaande verhalen leuk: My Quest for 72 Hoors (Angles) - 2(<10 minuten)Waargebeurd - Erotica, Exhibitionisme, Hardcore, Jong, Maagd, Male / Females, Threesome, Voyeur, Vrouw In muslim mythology it is believed Good man get 72 Hoors ( angels in Heaven after the day of Justice ) of course for sexual enjoyment but I decided to have 72 hoors in my life time for sexual pleasures and by the grace of the god I got First Khala Noori then Sara and Now Zarina is the 3rd of my 72 Hoors as my Wife .. I will tell you more about my sexual encounters with other hoors ( beautiful angels) in my life in up- coming stories. Stranger At The Holiday Resort(13 minuten)Fictie - Anaal, Erotica, First Time, Gay, Pijpen Hope you enjoy the story, all feedback wanted. If anyone can tell me of a free website to post non-erotic stories please let me know in a comment or DM. Airhostess(13 minuten)Fantasie We are a close-knit family and when I got back hole during vacations, we used to have lots of fun. Breastfeeding Sister(25 minuten)Dagboek In these days, a lot of kinky things were done and we were very happy. Fun with Sister(36 minuten)Waargebeurd Hi! My name is Saagar and I'm 20. My sister's name is Sangita and she's 28. She is eight-year-older than me. We are Middle-class family living in small flat in Bombay. Both my father and Mother are working. I call her 'Didi' and since I am much younger than she is she call me 'Sonu'. | ||||