Intimatters

We couldn’t wait until Wednesday to share XXXBlackBook member Moonmagiclady’s next thrilling installment of her erotic saga. Enjoy!

Hometown Vacation Part 4
By moommagiclady

I rolled the door to the storage unit down with a slam and snapped the lock shut.  I had spent my day digging through the items we had left in storage when moving to Hawaii.  After a couple years in storage, despite the best caretaking, things had gotten dusty and moldy.  Looking down at my watch I gave a small moan as I saw I had left myself only barely enough time to get ready and meet my friend at his hotel.  Well, I’m not a girl into taking hours to get ready, and had become less so since moving to the islands.  Closing the trunk of my car, I head for the driver’s seat and head back to my friend’s house I was staying at.

I grab a steaming hot shower pulling some scented soap I had brought from Hawaii out of my suitcase.  I don’t bother much with makeup, or fancy hairstyles, but it’s important to me to feel like I smell good and that my body is tempting to touch and taste.  I love the feel of this soap sliding over my body, and the way that the steam will carry the scent for a long time afterwards.  This particular soap had a wonderful mix of tropical jasmine and honey and I had mixed oils myself before leaving home until I was content that I had a lotion that gently layered the scents on my skin.

I slid a pair of thigh high stockings on tugging them a little higher than most women wear.  I love how they frame my shaved pussy as if it’s on display. J  A lightweight short, but not too short, black cotton sundress flows over the curves of my body.  The embroidery on the top is almost enough to hide the fact that as usual I’m not wearing a bra.  Almost being not quite as my nipples were tight and insistent that they be seen.  I stuck my tongue out at them and tossed my hair up into a careless French twist.  I put a swish of powder on and am out the door.  It’s almost scandalous here to go without makeup, but I don’t care.  Take me or leave me as I am, that’s my motto. J

I slid on a pair of low pumps and bend my knee to buckle them on my ankles.  I like low enough heels to not risk breaking my neck, but enough to add just a little more oomph to my legs.  I crank up the radio and head downtown to the Riverwalk to meet my friend at his hotel.  I give him a call on my cell phone when I get there and he invites me up for a pre-dinner drink.  A smile on my face, I lock the car and head up in the elevator.

My friend has a beautiful room done lavishly in a southern welcoming style.  The view of the river is pretty, but when you see Mauna Kea touching the sky and kissed with snow on the way to work and the ocean stretching before you in both rain and shine on a daily basis on the way home, the view of a river, (no matter how pretty) lacks a certain grandeur.  Still the view is pretty and I smile watching the people below us stroll down the side walk.  During the day, this area is family oriented, a little less safe than it was 20 years ago to walk it at night though. I vividly remember having sex with my high school boyfriend out here when the area was new and shiny.

My friend and temporary Dom hands me a glass of red wine and we turn together and look out the window for a moment.   I can see his back muscles tightening and I smile a tiny bit to myself and wonder how much more tolerance I am going to be given.  Apparently not much as a quick glare from the corners of his eyes encourages me to put down my glass of wine and kneel as I should have done on entering the room.  I struggle to bite back my smile from widening but I can sense that I’m not doing so successfully.  I have a SLIGHT tendency to test the limits… occasionally.

His hand lightly tickles over my neckline, running right across that line at the base of the hair to pull a shiver of anticipation out of me.  I feel his fingers touch the three small pins that hold my hair up and wonder for a moment if he will gather my hair tight in his fist and pull me backwards into an arch and my nipples tighten just a little more than they already Almost as if he can read my mind he pulls his hand back and orders me to crawl over to the bed.  Once there, I lift the dress over my head and stand in stockings and heels only.  Again doubt rises as it will for any person.  Online so much can be controlled with camera, what if the heat is not there? What if it’s just me?  I’m almost scared to look up, not to be disciplined, but what if there is disinterest or what if he’s trying to not laugh at me for being so needy.

Somehow, as most good tops will, he realizes something is wrong.  Unbuttoning his shirt he leaves on the belt and jeans, bringing an almost growl of hunger from deep in me.  I want so badly to slide the leather belt from the loops of his pants and offer it to him to discipline me.   I want to rub my face on the crotch of his jeans, breathing hot air against the firm erection I feel pressed against me as he touches my body with his.  I’m not allowed any of this though as he leans in to bite my neck, this time he does pull back my hair and pulling my head backwards meets my gaze and looks at me.  With soft kisses and perfect bites down my neckline he growls in my ear of all the ways he is going to possess me over the next week and all the fantasies he’s going to make sure I remain on my knees and fulfill.  I push my hips up, my body reacting to his words without thought, hoping to catch the firmness of him against me again only for him to pull away laughing mockingly.

I am commanded to keep my hands over my head and hold my body still as he pulls out something silver that tinkles.  I hear a soft jingle as a light chain (with what I assume are small bells from the sounds I can hear) is fastened onto one ankle, a chiming bracelet joins it on the opposite side.  My mind spins in confusion, but then snaps into focus as a tight clip is allowed to snap shut on my sensitive nipple; another soft chiming telling me there are bells attached to this clip and the one to follow on my other equally sensitive opposite nipple.

I keen softly and quietly into clenched teeth from the already nagging but tolerable pain even before another tight set of clips is fastened to my swollen pussy lips. A soft mocking chuckle accompanying the brush of a fingertip across my dripping wetness set off a shiver that jingles the small bells.  Tight clip on earrings with matching small silver bells are pinched onto my sensitive earlobes and the tiny throbs of pain all over by body bring dizziness and blood rushing to my skin.  I squirm and almost remove my hands from over my head but a snarl reminds me that I have been commanded to stillness.  I take deep slow breaths to process all the sensations souring through my body and after a few moments the tiny betraying chimes have silenced.

I feel cold curved metal pressed against my wet pussy and then lightly chiming benwa balls are slid up inside of my wet pussy.  I clench my muscles around them, savoring the feel of them against the walls of my pussy, feeling me up and feeling heavy.  I think we are ready, but then feel the hood of my clit spread to expose it red and tight betraying my arousal.

My whole body tenses in fear that a clip will join there, but instead what feels like smooth rather warm oil is teasingly rubbed over it.  I almost tumble into orgasm but abruptly realize I do not have permission to cum.  Not ready to beg yet and be denied, I struggle to move back from that drop into joy.  For a moment it is simple warmth, but then my pelvis squirms as the slight scent of cinnamon reaches me and the oil warms just a little more than is truly comfortable.  The sensation now is one of both warmth and a slight over sensitivity and almost tickling sensation.  Now it’s even harder to sit still and I moan again as I try not to move, the chimes of all the small bells betraying my failure remorselessly.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, decorated with delicate tormenting bells enhancing my every movement, my hair disheveled, stockings caressing my legs.  I look the image of a slave slut who wants nothing more than to fuck.  My master notices my fascination with my reflection and laughs at my vanity while he yanks me off the bed and onto my knees.  My face is pushed hard against the bulge in his jeans and I frantically rub my face across him and lick the material to feel just the pressure of him against my panting tongue.   The oil rubbed over my clit keeps my hips squirming and moving and I moan into his crotch, hoping for mercy of some kind.  Mercy is apparently not on the menu for tonight though as with amusement in his voice, I am ordered to put my dress back on.

I do as commanded to the quiet sound of the bells.  The small torments have made my skin flush and all my nerves are at their most sensitive.  The slither of the dress back over my body is arousing in itself and I’m beginning to enjoy the sound of the chimes.  None of them individually are loud enough to be noticed, and even with movement, it’s nothing that can’t be written off to the anklet and bracelet that are showing.  His hand extended to help me to my feet, I take it; rise gracefully and finish the last of my wine.  My body begins to adjust to the torment of the clips; the tinkling bells now a light weight, their every sway reminding me that my master’s touch is tormenting my body even as we leave to enter the hallway.  He opens the door and ushers me out before him, a gentleman until the end.

A quick hop on the parkway and soon enough we are where I’ve suggested for dinner.  I like fine dining and fancy just as much as the next person, but sometimes down home is good too.  I may not have been back to Augusta for four years, but that town changes slowly.  I still knew enough people in the food and beverage industry there that I was able to get the reassurance I needed that Rhineharts was where I wanted to go eat.  Along with one of my old bosses running it now, I was assured that the food remained as tasty as ever and the place itself as casual and fun as I remembered.  It would be especially rambunctious there this evening and I was looking forward to it.  I enjoy the feeling of being teased and tormented in the middle of a crowd of people who don’t know what is happening.  I love that feeling of being so close to getting caught, and having that little secret with the person teasing you.  Rhineharts would supply the perfect venue for just that game.

We entered the small bar and restaurant and the noise and smell of seafood fills the air.  My friend and I manage to push in and find stools at the bar with the help of a flirtatious smile on my part.  I’m sure the fact that my eyes were huge with arousal and the dreamy look on my face from the pressure of the clips had nothing to do with it at all.  We order our drinks and my master’s hand slides over to mischievously rub against the side of my breast as soon as the bartender turns her back.  I shiver and the chimes sound quietly.  I feel my blood rushing and my head spins a little as I wonder where the night will go from here.

I pull my eyes off the bartender’s cute round ass (after living in the islands I DO see why that southern belle accent drives the boys crazy!) and grin at my master.  I know the sound of the bells won’t carry any further than the two of us, but the chimes are almost constant due to the slight heat and tickle at my swollen clit battling with the feelings of the tight clips on nipples, punani and earlobes.

Now, Rhineharts may be southern country redneck dining, but they have some of the best damn food in Augusta. (I have peasant taste buds, sue me!)   The bar is quickly growing more crowded, so my master is a gentleman and gives up his stool for the lady of another couple standing behind us.  The lady compliments me on my lovely chiming bracelet and then turns to talk to her husband and my master steps over and slides his arms around me as if to snuggle.  The sound of the crowd covers my muffled moan as I turn my head to kiss his arm as he tugs on the clips on my nipples.  The pulling stimulating sensation seems to drive directly into my groin and I moan quietly again struggling not to throw my head back and beg for him to stop… stop or just rape me over the bar.

The bartender distracts me a little as she bounces back over to drop off our crawfish, shrimp and crab dip and we order another round of drinks.  When she turns again to go get our order, my master’s fingers slide up my thighs to push deep into my pussy.  I’m sopping wet like we both knew I would be and he chuckles in my ear as he pulls his fingers from between my legs, picks up a piece of crab and cracking it open blatantly licking his fingers.  My tongue darts out and catches his fingertip as he feeds me a bite of crab dip on crackers.  I drop my gaze and look away, slightly embarrassed at how quickly I fall into the habits of a slut in his presence.  The clips continue to be a torment and the weight of the quietly clinking benwa balls is ever present making the whole loud boisterous scene feel just slightly surreal.  The food however, as always is completely delicious.

My friend turns for a moment to discuss the golf game playing on the TV with the guy on the other side of us.  It’s Augusta.   It’s Master’s Week. PROBABLY golf will be on TV in any place serving alcohol!  I savor another bite of the crab dip while I look around the room then admire the shoulders on the bartender coming on shift to join the girl already working.  When he turns to greet his first customer, I realize it’s an old acquaintance of mine… we had worked together at a bar several years ago.  He still looked yummy and I commended myself on the good taste I had shown at the time.  I turn to see if my friend is still talking golf only to find him looking at me.

I realize maybe I haven’t been very subtle in admiring the lines of my old acquaintances body as my master is pretty obviously pissed.  If we’d been out as friends, it would have been a whole different story.  However, the clips on my body tormenting me make it pretty clear what role I’m in here and a slave’s eyes don’t go wandering when her owner is present.  I blush and look down, but he moves in to slide his hand in my hair and pull my head back.  I whimper slightly and see him look across to meet the gaze of the bartender as he leans in to kiss me than bite my bottom lip so hard I know it will be tender and bruised later.  A snarl in my ear about being a faithless slut accompanies the kiss.

We finish eating while he continues to torment me with his touch in small ways.  I’m craving him inside me and it’s only with effort that I manage not to rush dinner.  His arms around me pressed against my breasts, his voice whispers in my ear to slow down, we have a… busy night ahead.  I shiver and wonder what is planned but m y master releases me without further hints as the girl bartender returns with our tab.

My friend pays the tab and leaving a generous tip, we head out the door and to the car.  The trip back to the hotel is not very long and our conversation roams over different areas including the fact that we both have the following day free.  When he informs me that since I have no plans I will be going out to the golf course with him I’m tempted to argue the point.  I’m not a big fan of hot humid Georgia weather, but I’m pretty sure that golf will not be the top priority, at least for me.

As soon as we get back to the hotel I am ordered to remove my dress and go kneel by the bed.  I do as I am told immediately.  I know how to behave perfectly as a slave, but some people bring more rebellion out of me than others and this particular person seemed to bring out a lot of rebelliousness.  I’m still on my knees when a blindfold descends to cover my eyes, the pressure against the bells clipped on my ears causing another shiver of pain and anticipation run up my spine.  Next, accompanied by a slap to my ass that leaves a flaming pain, I am ordered to crawl up on the table in the dining area of the suite and lay spread eagled.

The stockings are a contrast to the coolness to the table beneath me and I’m already shivering as I feel soft ropes snuggly pulled around my wrists and ankles securing me to the table.  I wonder what is going to happen next as I hear footsteps fading away, then the sound of the freezer opening.  I half expect it, but still arch my back with a bitten back squeal as an ice cube begins to trace its way around my sore and tormented nipples and then down the curves of my waist and hips.  The cold drips off the ice cube seem to each bite my skin with an icy touch until licked and kissed off my skin with accompanying sharp nips that soon have me squirming.

I’m so needy now; I can lightly smell my scent in the air and am embarrassed at my own arousal.  The ice cube has made its way to my bellybutton with a light tickling sensation when I hear a knock at the door.  I freeze in panic then hear my friend’s voice remind me that he did say our night was just getting started… Before I can protest, a gag has been shoved in my mouth and I hear the door open and a stranger’s voice.  I hear my master’s voice say to hold on, and then he returns to my side.

He tells me that he has three friends coming over to join him for a game of poker.  The winner of each hand gets to remove one of the chiming items that I am wearing and has five minutes to do what they wish with me as long as they don’t untie me from the table.  The bells can then be used for stakes in the game.  Whoever has the most of the bells at the end of the game gets to use me in the bedroom for the rest of the night.  I’m caught off guard but when he takes the gag out of my mouth and asks me if I wish to use my safe word and I decline.  I’m far too stubborn to quit at this point.

Although I’d like to have my friend’s company to myself for the night, and have craved it for longer than I care to remember, it looked like I was in for a fantasy evening no matter what.  I knew that he wanted to take and top me just as badly as I wanted him to, so I could play along for now.  While I’m relaxing into the touch of his soft caresses over my skin a second set of hands joins his, the touch still new, gentle and exploratory.

I strain to hear my new seducer as he asks my master something, but soft earplugs join the blindfold in shutting out the outside world.  The last thing I heard was my master’s voice whispering two commands in my ear.  The first that I am not allowed to move but must remain completely still while laying here on this table.  Every chime of bells from unpermitted movement would be punished later by whoever took me for the night.  The second, that I am not allowed to speak a single world.  I may make sounds and noises, but for tonight I am just a little animal here only for sex and amusement and I will not be allowed to speak.  Just a pet here for them to amuse themselves with…

I suppose I should say I was angry… or worried… but the crashing waves of arousal and the razor edge of torment and pleasure that I had been walking told me the night would only get better.  I began to inhale and exhale wondering when the first hand would be played… and over…