MISS S IN BONDAGE – rope games

My first one to one session with Miss S was such a thrilling, emotional, roller coaster that there was a glorious inevitability about the second. The venue was my favourite small hotel near Kings Cross with its huge beds and good bathrooms. (My top tip for hotel encounters with sex workers? Good bathrooms. It’s the first part of your selected venue she’s going to spend any time in and you want her to feel you’ve chosen the location with care.)

She was late, sending me a picture of traffic to explain why, and arrived flustered, heading straight to the aforementioned bathroom. I heard showers and taps, bags being opened, makeup picked up and put down, until she reappeared, her calm restored and rocking her 1950’s glamour model look in all its glory, wearing body hugging black (apparently the correct term for what she wore is a Merrywidow; complicated business, lingerie}, and elegant heels. She looked glorious and very much like the model in this image.

Not Lilly but it could be

I wonder how she felt as, almost immediately, I asked her to strip off the “Merriwidow” and remove her height enhancing heels, leaving her naked and exposed, her evident nervousness escalating. She complied though.

You see, I had a plan and it didn’t include complicated, weirdly named  lingerie.

I had bought her a matched set of ankle, wrist and neck restraints; all soft, blue-trimmed leather. The act of tightening the cuffs calmed nerves a little, both hers and mine. I was nearly undone by the way she lifted her soft blond hair out of the way so I could buckle the collar around her slim neck, smiling into my eyes as she did so.

I tied a pentagram chest harness with a length of black rope. At first I concentrated on the tying itself: ….this end through here then round her body then….. but, as my confidence grew with each turn of the rope, it became an intimate, erotic dance of dominance and submission. As I handled her; moving an arm, turning her body, my manipulation of her firm but not harsh; I felt us both slide deeper into our roles. Miss S no more identifies as a  submissive then I do as a dominant, yet by the time I stood back to admire my handiwork we each seemed comfortable in those roles. My tying her was an act of dominance, her acceptance of my rope was an act of submission. It was all rather beautiful as the connection between us grew.

Her smile, the collar, the rope, mmnnff

This set the tone for the rest of our time together.

I spanked her over a chair then stroked her clitoris with my fingers until she orgasmed, holding her tight as she came down from it’s gasping peak.

I tapped her all over with a riding crop, it’s heart shaped leather end leaving little kisses on her delicate skin, each accompanied by a sharp intake of breath and a yelp, harder smacks eliciting a squeal.

I played with her fear, bending her down on the bed with legs apart, surely feeling vulnerable and exposed as I smacked a hand made birch of willow switches hard into the pillows, watching as she tried to crawl inside herself and hide from its terrible threat. I surprised her by putting it in her hand, making her smack her own bottom with it, exploring the impact and discovering for herself the way the branches spread their sting across her already sensitive skin. She did well, each blow adding to a growing web of red lines on her bottom. Making her responsible for her own suffering seemed a more dominant act than hitting her myself.

To see her driven on by a desire to please me was very, very special.

She whimpered in fear as I took the birch but, rather than swing it hard, I tapped it light and fast over her bottom, making waves of sensation that had her wriggling and squirming.

And we had sex.

Not ‘Girlfriend experience,’ tender, intimate sex. I fucked her. I fucked her face down on the bed, one hand twisting the knot at the back of the harness, simultaneously tightening the ropes round her body and pulling her hard onto me, while the other smacked her bottom. As her orgasm built, I pushed her face down into the sheets, smacking her again and again till she came in a shuddering quaking rush.

It felt electrifying to have caused such an intense orgasm in someone so young and beautiful.

Then came the intimacy. We lay together, laughing at the release of it all, in easy contact with each other. She bit my nipples and stroked my cock till I came and, unusually for me, I came easily and naturally without the mess in my head that too often interferes. It felt so comfortable and just plain right that I should be there with her.

As we drank champagne and ate chocolate, we paused to touch each other and kiss in relaxed intimacy. It was beautiful and affecting and made me feel new and whole and calm, at one with the world.

And that feeling lasted right up to the moment when Mistress Elita phoned to say she was outside the hotel and would be at the door of the room in two minutes.

The afternoon wasn’t over. It wasn’t over by a long way.