Silly Little Bruises
Like I said, curiosity killed the cat… but satisfaction brought her back.
So once again I’m standing naked at the edge of the bed, my back to Prince. On the wall in front of me I can see his shadow unwinding a long length of rope. Spread your legs for me he tells me. I do as he says without question. I stare at the curtains fluttering in the open window and somewhere in the back of my brain it registers that anyone passing by would easily see right through the gauzy fabric. Despite the warm summer air I feel his hot breath against my skin as he leans over and threads the rope between my thighs. Then he stands straight up towering over me and his shadow engulfs mine.
He pulls the rope up over my right shoulder and I feel it bite into my breast. Then he stretches it down my backside, over my ass, threading it through my open legs once again. The coarse fibers rub against the delicate wet skin on the inside of my thigh right where my leg folds into the outer lip of my pussy. His fingers never touch my skin as he wraps the cord once again tightly over my belly, across my breast and over the opposite shoulder. Two more passes like this and then he spends a few minutes with some knotting at the top of my tail bone.
I stand there feeling foolish, my tender bits engorged, irritated and exposed while he fiddled with something or other behind me. Then he gently lifted my hand and began to wrap my wrist. Next, drawing the cord across my backside, he anchored one wrist to the other. Long pieces of rope hung from either hand transforming me into some perverse puppeteer's marionette.
On your knees he orders me. I kneel forward on the bed. He reaches around me and pulls two large, plump, purple pillows to the head of the bed. It makes me feel special, like his royal concubine. Before the next directive I indulgently allow myself to tip over onto the pillows, face first and ass in the air. I feel vulnerable and exposed. I like it.
I tense the length of my body and lift my ass to explore the tightness of the binding. As I do so the rope digs into my flesh and forces me to relax. My pussy salivates at the sound of him unrolling a condom and stroking lube onto himself. Soon he was pressing his cock between my butt cheeks (which are still sticking up in the air in a sort of invitational come here gesture). He slowly shoved himself up my ass and began fucking me really, really slowly. I thanked the Gods this man could read my mind (or my body) because there was no way in hell I could have told him that I longed for him to do exactly what he was doing. Fuck me up the ass.
I don’t remember the exact choreography of what happened next. All I know is I had been flipped over and our eyes were locked together. My knees were crooked in half, tightly bound and being pried apart each time he tugged on the ends of the rope to leverage himself deeper into me. While my mind still scrambled for an explanation of how this twist had happened Prince had managed to switch holes and was now fucking my cunt very hard. Each time he bore into me I felt the knot digging into the small of my back. I noticed my fingers were beginning to tingle and I wondered if I should tell him I needed to be untied. But I so didn’t want to. Then he started up with that crazy chanting and slapping on the outside of my thighs, thwap thwap thwap thwap… like my thighs were thick aged rawhides that made music when smacked just so by a knowing hand.
And once again as he started to cum he lowered his body onto mine and wrapped his arms around my head, sobbing and crying out oh god, oh my god as he came inside me.
This time the unraveling was slower. There were more knots to undo and loops to unwind. As the ropes fell away I felt a sort of combined sadness and euphoria. Maybe like what a butterfly feels as the last layers of its cocoon slough off and it flops out all new and confused.
And as I had done the previous night I tiptoed out and snuck home just before dawn. As the first light of day crept into my bedroom I noticed the faint purple trails winding around my wrists and over the tops of my shoulders. I drifted off to sleep wondering how some silly little bruises could make me feel so incredibly fragile and strong at the same time.
So once again I’m standing naked at the edge of the bed, my back to Prince. On the wall in front of me I can see his shadow unwinding a long length of rope. Spread your legs for me he tells me. I do as he says without question. I stare at the curtains fluttering in the open window and somewhere in the back of my brain it registers that anyone passing by would easily see right through the gauzy fabric. Despite the warm summer air I feel his hot breath against my skin as he leans over and threads the rope between my thighs. Then he stands straight up towering over me and his shadow engulfs mine.
He pulls the rope up over my right shoulder and I feel it bite into my breast. Then he stretches it down my backside, over my ass, threading it through my open legs once again. The coarse fibers rub against the delicate wet skin on the inside of my thigh right where my leg folds into the outer lip of my pussy. His fingers never touch my skin as he wraps the cord once again tightly over my belly, across my breast and over the opposite shoulder. Two more passes like this and then he spends a few minutes with some knotting at the top of my tail bone.
I stand there feeling foolish, my tender bits engorged, irritated and exposed while he fiddled with something or other behind me. Then he gently lifted my hand and began to wrap my wrist. Next, drawing the cord across my backside, he anchored one wrist to the other. Long pieces of rope hung from either hand transforming me into some perverse puppeteer's marionette.
On your knees he orders me. I kneel forward on the bed. He reaches around me and pulls two large, plump, purple pillows to the head of the bed. It makes me feel special, like his royal concubine. Before the next directive I indulgently allow myself to tip over onto the pillows, face first and ass in the air. I feel vulnerable and exposed. I like it.
I tense the length of my body and lift my ass to explore the tightness of the binding. As I do so the rope digs into my flesh and forces me to relax. My pussy salivates at the sound of him unrolling a condom and stroking lube onto himself. Soon he was pressing his cock between my butt cheeks (which are still sticking up in the air in a sort of invitational come here gesture). He slowly shoved himself up my ass and began fucking me really, really slowly. I thanked the Gods this man could read my mind (or my body) because there was no way in hell I could have told him that I longed for him to do exactly what he was doing. Fuck me up the ass.
I don’t remember the exact choreography of what happened next. All I know is I had been flipped over and our eyes were locked together. My knees were crooked in half, tightly bound and being pried apart each time he tugged on the ends of the rope to leverage himself deeper into me. While my mind still scrambled for an explanation of how this twist had happened Prince had managed to switch holes and was now fucking my cunt very hard. Each time he bore into me I felt the knot digging into the small of my back. I noticed my fingers were beginning to tingle and I wondered if I should tell him I needed to be untied. But I so didn’t want to. Then he started up with that crazy chanting and slapping on the outside of my thighs, thwap thwap thwap thwap… like my thighs were thick aged rawhides that made music when smacked just so by a knowing hand.
And once again as he started to cum he lowered his body onto mine and wrapped his arms around my head, sobbing and crying out oh god, oh my god as he came inside me.
This time the unraveling was slower. There were more knots to undo and loops to unwind. As the ropes fell away I felt a sort of combined sadness and euphoria. Maybe like what a butterfly feels as the last layers of its cocoon slough off and it flops out all new and confused.
And as I had done the previous night I tiptoed out and snuck home just before dawn. As the first light of day crept into my bedroom I noticed the faint purple trails winding around my wrists and over the tops of my shoulders. I drifted off to sleep wondering how some silly little bruises could make me feel so incredibly fragile and strong at the same time.
posted by Curious Pussy at Monday, April 25, 2005
3 Comments:
that sounds nothing short of wonderful...
Wow :)
Thanks guys. You know, this was one of those times when words seem so feeble to describe the exquisite nature of life. I wish I could take the letters of the alphabet and paint the scenes so you could really see them... and then I would take the punctuation and make it sound and feel like what I experienced. Alas, I'll have to muddle by with stories.
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