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IC : Weblogs : astrid_the_spy : "Naughty Box"
Naughty Box (2)
astrid_the_spy's profile
Posted by astrid_the_spy on Thu 20 Nov 08, 11:35 PM
Tags: Glasgow (G)
I'd gone down to London to spend the weekend with Mr C . The plans were that he would collect me from King Cross Train Station on Friday night. Our intentions were to have a touristy action packed weekend. The reality was we spent a weekend locked in his house with the curtains drawn.
Mr C is a bad man. He likes doing very bad things. It's why I like him.
Mr C is the man who introduced me to the concept of the naughty box. On the first morning together he pulled a big box out from underneath his bed. He opened it up and inside there were all numbers of strange things... straps and leather and rope and things I didn't even recognise.
“Has anyone ever used a cane on you?” he asked as he pulled a long rattan cane from the naughty box.
It looked liked something a school teacher from the 50's might have used on a naughty pupil. He smacked it against the pillow on the bed a few times and it made a swishing noise as it whizzed through the air. I knew the answer to his question didn't really matter much.
Standing in front of him in my underwear I suddenly felt really nervous.
“Take your panties off, your bra and stockings can stay on”.
More nervous than ever I dis as I was told.
I dropped my panties on the floor and lay on the bed as indicated. He told me to lie on my front and he pushed two pillows below my hips so my behind was pushed rudely upwards. He used rope to tie my hands tightly together and then tied them to the head of the bed. He stretched my legs almost painfully wide apart and tied each ankle to the bottom corners of the bed.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him move and pick up the cane. When he stroked it over the backs of my thighs I forced myself to stay relaxed and not shudder.
“This is going to hurt but you are going to be a good girl and stay nice and quiet”.
I didn't even get a chance to take a breath before the cane landed on my raised behind. I felt the impact first, the stinging pain came seconds later. Before I even had time to complain he hit me again. And then again.
“Fuck! That really hurts. You bastard, let me fucking go” I remember twisting and pulling. Tears pricked my eyes and the rope cut into my wrists and ankles.
He knelt onto the bed beside me and stroked my hot cheek and kissed my forehead. His hand worked it's way between my legs.
“I know it hurts, but look how wet you are. You really are enjoying this”.
He puts his fingers to my mouth and I licked them clean.
“I told you not to make a noise” he said. “Now open your mouth”
He reached to the floor and picked up my panties. He screwed them into a ball and pushed them into my mouth. A piece of duct tape from the naughty box secured them in place.
I felt completely helpless. The burning heat below the rope was a reminder I couldn't wriggle free. My panties completely filled my mouth making it dry and silent. I had no choice but to accept what was happening to me.
Mr C stood to the side of the bed. I looked away. It felt so much worse when I knew the cane was about to land. He tapped me gently a few times with the cane and then the swish, impact, sting. He gave me a moment to catch my breath and then swish, impact, sting.
This time it was different. I had no choice, I couldn't complain or escape. It still hurt but I could feel endorphins buzz round my body and it hurt in such an addictive way.
I don't know how many times he hit me with the cane but when he stopped and pulled the panties gag from my mouth I was dizzy drunk on endorphins.
He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back and kissed my face.
“I am going to fuck you now” he breathed into my ear.
I could feel his weight on the bed behind me and his fingers pulled me apart. I honestly couldn't help but groan when I felt his cock inside me.
“Tell me how it feels” he growled as he thrust into me over and over
Barely able to talk I told him I much I loved him fucking me.
“How does it feel when I do this” he uttered as he dug his fingers into my red, striped, rapidly bruising cheeks.
I didn't need to answer, my screams, sobs and frantic struggles were all he needed. When he came he rolled off me and lay by my side. He untied my hands first.
“Touch yourself, I want you to cum”
I slipped my fingers down between my legs and as he whispered in my ear all that nasty things he planned to do to me later in the weekend I had an orgasm of my own.
Later on that day, once we had slept off our S&M buzz I remember standing looking over my shoulder into the mirror. My cheeks and thighs were covered in angry red stripes. I felt a funny sort of pride.
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