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Not Your Average Saturday Night

The air was cool and damp.

Candles lit the table that was bound by friends, old and new.

Words spoken that I wanted to remember and some just filter back to me whenever.

There was a question I wanted to ask her. “What is it about rope that puts the gleam in your eye?”

She gets that gleam, you know.

“Rope frees me from other distractions and allows me to be in the moment.”

A light bulb went off in my head. “Please remind me what you said. I don’t want to forget it.”

“I want to play with you Nikita.”

I was hoping she’d say that.

“Bring your ropes.”

I pulled several bundles out of my rope bag.

“This or this or this or this?” I asked.

She gave me a blank stare and I handed her my favorite jute.

At once she was in charge. “Hand me my bag please.”

Out came a panoply of toys, cat on nines, beautiful butter soft suede braided turquoise flogger, a feather boa flogger, and a bunch of other things. I should have paid attention to the other things.

“Pick one thing you want me to use.”

I picked the turquoise flogger.

“Go put that and your ropes over there, near the cross.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said under my breath.

The cross was beautiful, sturdy, seductive and halfway into the kitchen.

I rarely take my clothes off in public. This many people was ‘in public’ to me.

“Take off your top.” She said in my ear.

I threw it on the floor and faced the cross.

She bound my arms. There was no wiggle room. ~smile~

“Your bra has to come off.”

The cross was cold but soon it would be warm.

She grabbed my hair and trailed something pointy on my skin.

Felt hot breath on my neck. I leaned back into it.

I found myself staring at a counter full of empty glasses. It was distracting. She blindfolded me.

“Those pants have to come down.”

Gulp. The slacks went down to my ankles and the panties just below the curve. She began with spanking, on my butt, just enough to redden it. She’s been there before.

Next came the floggers; I don’t remember which because she kept changing them, but the impact increased and then came toys that were stingier. Each level made me climb that cross higher and higher. My butt stuck out more, looking for more, getting more.

“Spread those legs. I’m going to get culinary. Do you like olives?”

“Yes. I’m made of olives.”

I could feel the gleam in her eyes.

Whatever made me say that?

She lubed her hands with olive oil and slid them between my legs. She pushed her body against mine. Both of us moved the heavy cross further into the kitchen. Both of us were breathing hard. I moaned and climbed, and climaxed.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered.

My body pulsed. I was on my toes and still trying to climb up the cross.

“Do you want to dance?”

“Yes, thank you. I’d love to dance.”

There was a slight delay in the light bulb reflex.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s the kind of dance you are talking about.”

She zapped me! I jumped from shock more than pain as she gleefully tested every square inch of my butt. Where was I going to go? I was tired and drained.

A sheer green something was draped over my body. She whispered in my ear. “Not your average Saturday night is it.”

© Nikita 2009


October 26, 2009 Posted by | adult, bdsm, erotica, spanking | , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment