Intimatters

What a vacation! Enjoy XXXBlackBook member Moonmagiclady’s 5^th installment in this erotic saga.

Vacation Part 5
By Moonmagiclady

What I had first thought of as earplugs turned out to be earbuds instead.  Utterly insidious I had to admit due to the fact that it is almost impossible for me to hold still with music playing.  The command to be still, which I had already known would be difficult immediately becomes a harder challenge as different sounds pour into my ears.  I want to curve and sway my hips to the sounds but I know that even a shiver is going to set off the bells decorating and tormenting me, putting me in a spot for further discipline later.

There is a slight change in the flow of the air over my skin telling me the door has opened again.  Between the purring growl of Stevie Ray Vaughn pouring in my ears, and the adrenalin pushing my senses that are available to me to their highest level of sensitivity the new touch upon my body makes me jump and I can feel the shiver of the bells betraying me.  The new touch draws a slow, thoughtful single light line from the tip of my head to the bottom of my left foot.  The line seems to bring every nerve on my body to an even higher level of need.  Craving for more touch either firm or teasing pushes my disobedient body and I twist a little setting the bells chiming again.

The music stops in and I can hear slightly muffled but clear conversation.  I hear the word “twice” spoken with amusement and then two people approaching me.  I want to squirm away from whatever unknown consequence is coming, but I know further movement will only cause me more punishment.  Although sometimes I will push limits, being commanded to hold still tonight was probably going to garner me enough punishment in itself.  The earbud is pulled from one ear long enough for my friend and Dom to whisper in my ear that I am welcome to move while being punished, as he doubts I’d be able to hold still anyhow.

With that ominous permission,  I hold every muscle tight to keep myself from movement at the very peak of anticipation and fear, as if waiting for that moment for me to tense I feel a searing snap on my left breast and even as my body disobeys me and squirms away another on my right.  I cry into the air, but retain at least enough of thought to not use words only moans and whimpers.

The echo of pain and heat traveling my body over and over left no doubt in my mind that our guests had been invited to amuse themselves with rubber bands against my skin.  For those of you who think it doesn’t hurt that bad, try holding still and having one snapped as hard as possible on your skin.  Personally, I find it more intense than a lot of other toys, although I admit it does leave clear marks that tend to take a while to fade.  I like marks and tenderness to remind me of what a slut I am though, so it’s not really an issue here.  I am commanded back to stillness and the music again fills my ears.  Inhaling deeply, I focus on the now tormenting tightness of the clips on my breasts and punani along with the spiralling echo of the pain from the welts the rubber bands have left.  Another change in air and soft breeze across my skin notifies me of the arrival of another person.

It ends up being two new people if the touches on my body mean anything.  I hold myself to stillness as four hands caress my skin, one set firm and finding my curves fascinating, another touch light and teasing moving its way up towards my breasts.  I cry out again and moan, but manage to not chime the bells as more hands join the ones touching me. I don’t know now how many hands are touching me, but a quick pinch to the welt on my breast combined with a finger sliding in my pussy forces a shiver and writhe of my pelvis from me chiming bells all over.  Even over the sound of the music in my ears (now a soaring classic of some kind that makes what is happening feel even more surreal than it is) doesn’t quite cover the sound of laughter from the men as I whimper knowing I have more punishment to come.  For a second, I am cold and a shiver I can’t control brings another chime from the bells, but then a twist of sharp snaps punish my body in different locations and my whimper escalates into a smothered scream.  I can’t hear any discussion, but two fingers pushed into my soaked puss move in and out driving my arousal until a sharp tug on the clips on my breasts pushes aside anything but a moment of pain.

All touch is abruptly gone again, leaving me writhing, my body unsure whether to tumble into the orgasm that had almost overrode me, or whimper at the pain of the clips on my body.  After a blurred second I remember my command and become still as the men wander off to play their game.  I hold still careful not to doze off as my mind drifts in a cloud of arousal and sensation stretching moments into infinity but making the first hand of poker seem as if it must have lasted only moments.

I inhale deeply at the firm touch of hands that are now caressing my body.  Permission is whispered in my ear to move.  I might not recognize any of the others, but I surely recognized the touch and voice of my friend already.  His fingers tease me, caressing lightly, pulling a moan and a turn from me as he tugs on the clips tormenting my pussy lips, then his fingers run lightly across my wetness before moving up to tease my lips.  Tentatively I dip my tongue onto his fingers licking away my only juices with a delicate fast movement.  His hand squeeze my breasts next bringing more moans from me, but my body only seems to strain for more of his touch.  Pleasure or pain, it doesn’t seem to matter, I utterly crave his hands on my body.

A tear drips down my cheek as he pulls my breasts by grabbing the bells, keeping the tension just enough to torment me without removing the clips themselves.  Now I’m only trying not to beg, quiet suppressed sobs the best I can do against the pain that has driven pleasure away.  He releases my breasts, leans in and kisses me deeply with his fist entwined in my hair.  His mouth devours mine as I make helpless hungry noises, his other hand sliding up my arm.  I feel his fingers slide around the chain of bells around my wrist and then a harsh yank pulls them from my wrist.

I whimper slightly at the sharp pain, wishing I could see his expression, but prevented from doing so from the blindfold.  I feel his chuckle entering the kiss and then he pulls away.  I turn again my body in its bonds as much as I can, pleading with every movement for him to touch me more.  A fast snap against my tight skin of another rubber band reminds me that I am not here to make pleas, but to be a toy to be used.  I calm myself to stillness struggling to remain still while my body is climbing toward arousal again.

The next hand seems to take longer and it’s hard for me to remain still.  The arousal is fading, but the pinching sore tenderness from the clips is only becoming more nagging.  I am able to keep from moving though, until the next touch on my skin surprises me into jumping.  The bells roll against my skin and a tear drips down my cheek.  It’s just so hard to obey, my body seems to do what it wants despite my best intentions.  The tear is retrieved with the touch of a finger and wiped across my lips.  It takes me only moments to recognize my friends touch again.

This time his touch is firm, almost too firm in spots that I already have a bruise or two.  His hand is rough and I love the feel of his skin pressed to mine.  His caresses move to my inner thighs and his fingers slideover my swollen clit in a quick circle.  I moan and move again as his mouth dives down and wet warmth surrounds my sore and tender nipples still being tormented by the clips.  My hips lift and strain before thumping back down upon the table I am bound to in defeat and surrender.

His firm touch moves down further to grasp my ankle.  There is something particularly vulnerable feeling about having a man’s fingers wrapped around your ankle, something that reminds you that in purely physical terms, you are smaller and more vulnerable.  In moments the chiming anklet was yanked away with the same brutality of the earlier bracelet.  I tense waiting for punishment for my movement and in moments the singing pain has kissed the inside of my thighs and arousal and pain are swirling together into a spiral again, and again his touch is gone.

The next hand goes quickly, and apparently my friend has won again as his touch again roams my body.  He is less gentle this time, less tender, sharp pinches and slaps rain down upon my skin.  I whimper but don’t move, so much adrenalin and endorphins in my system now that even rougher touches feel wonderful.  At least that is the case until a cruel yank of the clips that are on my nipples pulls the cips from me with a brutal jerk.

I lose all control at the blood rushing back into my tight and painful tits and pull fruitlessly on the restraints trying to curl up into a ball.  The earbuds are pulled from my ears and a sharp command to be still is spoken.  Through my mental haze I realize how disobedient I am being and immediately swallow the protest on the edge of my tongue and return to my earlier position.  My breasts are so sore that the lightest brush of his palm over them sends a shiver through me and a chime through the remaining set of clips on my puss lips.

To my unexpected shock, this time the punishment is a sharp blow of a cane across my thighs.  My instinctive squirm earns me three more blows, but the three fingers pushed deep into my wet pussy and then shoved up into my ass soon challenge my ability to hold still further.  He smears his juice across my skin and leaves me there again aroused and needing, but able to hear the men’s conversation this time.

The men’s voices at the table discuss the first rounds that had been played that day criticizing and praising the players in turn. I grew up in Augusta and the tournament players’ names were familiar to me as they drops from lips with various accents from across the country.  Through a haze of sensual poundings through my body I can identify a clear New York accent and at least two Southern ones on top of my friend’s odd blend of accents from growing up in unusual places.

The men vary their discussion and as the betting grows more intense it’s as if no one even is aware of the naked girl bound to the table a few feet away.  I can tell by the men’s voices that the game is almost over, but I can’t figure out who is winning.  I hear a loud response and then laughter as the game concludes.  My questions about the winner and who has me for the night are answered a few moments later when I hear all the voices approach, but my Dom’s touch is obvious on my body again.

I hold still as not only his hands, but those of the others begin to roam my body.  One set of hands is teasing and pulling at my tender and intensely sore nipples and breasts, another’s fingers have slid into my mouth and are pushing into my throat to see if I will gag or not, a set of fingernails rakes down my thighs and I feel fingers tickling at my ass again as well.  All the touches blur together and I know in moments I won’t be able to control myself at all when I feel a soft preliminary tug to the final set of clips on my pussy.  I want to tense up because I know how the blood rushing back after all this time is going to be painful, but all the touches on my body keep me from doing so.

On some unspoken signal all the touches are suddenly still, but present.  The grasp on my breasts tightens along with the grip in my hair, two fingers are pushed hard and deep up into my ass keeping me impaled and actually forcing me to slightly lift my hips and the fingers in my mouth are pushed even deeper.  All movement is stopped and the moment is frozen for a split second and then as every other sensation JUST begins to drop, the clips are yanked from my punani.  The feeling is so intense that I can’t move or even cry out, then everything hits me at once and I scream into the air as orgasm and pain pours over me again and again and again, the various hands still tormenting me.

Every where I try to twist or turn against my bonds there is another touch and I can’t escape, I don’t even know if I’m turning away from one touch or turning towards another.  With an abruptness that makes me cry out wordlessly and sob into the unfeeling air, all the hands are suddenly gone.  The cold bells are dropped in a careless small heap on my gasping belly and I hear the men walk away talking.

The hotel door opens and silence falls in the room as my Dom closes it behind his guests.  I think that now I am going to be untied so that we can play further, but this proves to be not right.  I feel his body climb on the table on top of mine and his weight against me presses hard on my breasts where the clamps have been.  I moan and try to thrust my hips up and in moments his hard, hot and demanding cock is in me.   The feeling of him sliding past the tender spots where the blood has rushed in the lips of my punani is a crazy intense feeling and tears are again falling from my eyes.

He pushes himself as deep inside me as it’s possible to be, then lifts his upper body so he can lean down and suck gently on first on nipple and then the other.  I cry out at the sensations and writhe against him bringing him into a slightly more urgent thrust of his own against me.  Bound spread eagled limits what I can do, but every inch I had I strained to show how much I love his pounding violation of my wet pussy.  He lifts his head and begins to truly focus on slamming into me as deep and hard as he possibly can bringing me to climax over and over again.  I want to cry out his name and beg for this to never stop, but dimly I remember being told I am not allowed words.

Without warning he pulls out of our rhythm and moves above me.  Filthy names and plans of ways to use and abuse me rain into my ears as in seconds his jism is sprayed all over my skin.  I moan and cry out as a drop hits my mouth and all I can do is wish for more.  The moment is frozen in ice and fire as his seed splatters all over my skin and a final orgasm washes over my body.  A second later his body is beside mine on the table as we both pause and catch our breaths.

I am limp and placid, unable and unwilling to protest as I’m unbound from the table and then, wrists and ankles bound together, tossed over his shoulder and onto the carpet beside the bed.  Still bound and blindfolded, a sheet is tossed over me and my master wishes me sweet dreams.  I am already drifting off when with a sharp yank of my hair a final comment is growled into my ear.

“You are MINE this week.  I will share you WHEN I want.  Tonight, I just wanted to taunt them with what I have.  Tonight was to let both you AND them know that you are my pet, my toy, my slave.  Don’t you DARE forget it whore.”

As I drift off, I distantly hear him informing me that tomorrow I am to go with him for a golf game with the same friends.  Tee time is early and I will be a busy girl making up for the boys disappointment for losing at poker to my Master tonight.  With a smile across my face, I drift off into dreams of tomorrow’s naughtiness…