Monday, September 24, 2012

Scene: Hotel

He had laughed when she blurted out the idea. It wasn't brought up again. Then, one day, it came to life.

They giggled like kids when they checked into the hotel. She thought it was odd that they hadn't brought clothing for the couple of nights that they paid for, in advance. Then she just gave herself over to a fit of giggling at the idea of them lounging around in the hotel room for a few nights, living off room service. The idea was just silly to her. When they got to the room, he set down the small bag he had packed on the table.

He looked over at her and his expression moved from amused anticipation to something very still and calculating. She looked at him and her smile faded into a look of confusion. "We don't have long," he said, taking a moment to look at his watch. Still bewildered, she took a half step towards him. He did a quick, cursory glance around the room. And then he moved.

His sudden step towards her as he reached up and pulled the scarf off her head caught her by surprise. As she took a step back, his left hand came around and snarled in her short hair. With a mewling yelp of pain, she was dragged towards the bed. The bright pink fabric snapped in the air as he tossed it aside and turned his attention to her remaining clothes.

In silence, he stripped her with brisk efficiency. She stared at him in shock, instinctively moving to cover herself. He slapped her hands with a sudden, stinging blow that made her yelp as she dropped to her knee. "Don't move," he ordered as he turned away. When he turned back, he had a roll of packing tape in his hands. Ripping off a small section, he placed it over her mouth. "Now, be a good girl and don't hyperventilate," he admonished her, lightly placing a hand on her right cheek.

She looked up at him as his fingers lightly caressed her cheekbone. He couldn't help but smile. Such trust and smoldering lust burned in his lover's eyes. They silently begged him for something more, anything more. The smile widened. "Not yet," he said. He held up the roll of tape. "Hands," he said in a mild tone. Obediently, she held out her hands, wrists together. A couple of quick wraps and her wrists were secured.

He grabbed her by her bound wrists and pulled her up to her feet. As he set aside the tape, she tried to remember the details of that idea she suggested. Her mind, however, was increasingly fogged with lust with each moment. "Up you go," he said, helping her to kneel on the bed. As she struggled awkwardly to comply with his efforts to arrange her position, he chuckled.

He turned away from her and dropped the tape back into the bag. He made sure she could see the items as he pulled them out of the bag. A small flogger with a matte black handle was first out of the bag. Then a ball gag, one that she was of mixed feelings towards. On one hand it was exceptionally effective at it's job but it was just large enough that it made her jaw ache. As she briefly considered this, she almost missed the candle he set on the table in the ashtray. Finally, he took out a knife.

She couldn't help the quick intake of breath and sudden quickening of her pulse. The flogger was a delightful thing and she found fire play to be delicious, but the cold beauty of steel simply made her weak. He moved to set it down and then looked over at her. "Oh," he said, feigning surprise, "You like these, don't you?" She swallowed and switched her focus from the blade to his face.

Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he stepped over to her. Gently, tenderly, he glided the edge of the knife against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut and a shiver went through her. He turned the knife so that the flat of the blade pressed coldly against her skin. "You *do* like this," he said, lightly trailing the caress of the knife down her cheek, under her jaw and along her wildly throbbing pulse. He smiled with satisfaction at how goosebumps prickled and she struggled to suppress a shudder of pleasure.

With deliberate slowness, he teased her stiffening nipples with the flat of the knife, smiling at how she struggled not to move and the way she held her breath. He took the knife away and set it on the table. Slowly, she blinked and breathed. He looked over at her, giving her a soft, tender smile. "Now, be good and close your eyes," he said. Obediently, she closed them.

Within moments, her scarf had been folded and turned into an impromptu blindfold. Her hands resting primly on her knees as she sat back on her heels, she made a pleasant sight. She didn't realize it, but the blindfold had been a negotiated point. It was something of an artistic flourish and a functional tool to keep her in a heightened state of receptivity for her 'surprise.' Lightly, he patted her on the cheek in a reassuring gesture as she swayed slightly. "Don't go anywhere," he said with a chuckle as he turned and picked up the passkey off the table.

Left sitting/kneeling on the end of the bed, doing her best to remain still, she listened intently as he crossed the room, opened the door and left. The click of the lock seemed almost ghastly loud compared to the stillness of the room. Gradually, the coolness of the room seeped into her flesh, making her briefly pine for her shawl. Seconds ticked by, feeling longer and longer as she waited.

After what felt to be an eternity, she could hear the heavy noise of the door unlocking. Her heart leaped and she straightened her posture.She bowed her head slightly, furrowing her brow beneath the vibrant pink silk cloth as she strained to listen for every detail. The door whispered over the thick rug. A familiar but unexpected voice said, "Well, well. Very nice."

She stiffened in shock and her head whipped up. Beneath the blindfold her eyes struggled against the fabric to open wide in shock. She could hear the door noisly lock and then the even measure of his pace as he walked across the room. A single fingertip settled on her right collarbone and moved slowly down her chest to circle her nipple. She could feel him looming over her and his gaze was almost like a subtle touch.

Despite her efforts not to, she began to breathe faster as his fingertip traced its random path up to her neck and then to the tip of her chin. Feeling as though the world had contracted to where his touch lay, she shivered and gave a small, muffled whimper. His chuckle sent another thrill through her as he lightly moved his thumb over the tape covering her lips. "Cute touch," he said, his voice rich with amusement.

His fingertips softly moved against her cheek. She felt her resistance, her efforts to keep her wits sharp fail as the urge to press her face against the palm of his hand overwhelmed her. She moved her head slightly and the warmth of his full hand cradled the right side of her face. Slowly, she took a breath in, savoring the scent of his skin. Her body ached to feel more of his skin and as he moved his hand away, she felt a moment of disappointment.

He stepped closer, his chest close enough that she could smell the faint, crisp clean scent of the soap his shirt had been washed in, the spicy musk of his cologne, and, beneath that, the warm, rich scent of him. She felt a touch dizzy and weak in the knees as a rush of desire rocked her hard. As she was lost in this sensation, his deft hands untied the knot at the back of her head and pulled away the scarf.

As she opened her eyes and looked up at him, He smiled at the unabashed hunger that lit her gaze. At his smile, she turned shy and her gaze flicked away as she ducked her head slightly. He reached up and wound his fingers into her hair, firmly pull her head back so that her gaze met his. "Don't run away from me," he said. Her eyes darted around in sudden anxiety. He gave a slight shake and her eyes snapped to his face. "Do it again and everything stops," he quietly said, his tone deceptively soft. Her eyes widened. "Everything," he said, answering the sudden question that was there.

She paled but didn't break his gaze. His grip on her hair softened and he opened his hand, cradling the back of her head. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. She nodded, her expressive hazel eyes taking on a brief flicker of solemnity. His serious expression brightened as he let go of her and brought his hand forward. With a smile of mischief and a gaze of sparkling amusement, he pinched her nose. Her eyes widened again and his smile turned into a grin.

He watched as she struggled with the urge to pull her head back away from his hand. Her gaze darted about in a sudden burst of panic as his willing victim became short of breath. Her eyes locked with his as he playfully pinched harder. She gave a muffled whimper despite her efforts to keep her reactions from overwhelming her determined effort to stay some what in control. His smile of mischief turned darker as she started to squirm.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, his voice rich with amusement, "Careful, breathplay could kill you, you know." At the sound of his voice, the nearness of his presence, and the way his breath tickled her neck, she found herself unable to keep control and groaned. He let go of her nose and put his hand on her throat.

In a smooth motion, he pushed her back onto the bed as she struggled to breath deeply through her nose. Functionally pinning her by her neck, he looked down at her. Her eyes rolled with pleasure as he lightly increased the pressure. He could watch as a shiver moved through her, noting the way she struggled against the tape in a muffled moan. He reached over with his free hand and ripped the tape off.

Her eyes opened wide as she took a deep breath in, gulping air. "Didn't expect that, did you?" he said. He didn't bother waiting for an answer. He leaned down and kissed her. She moaned and squirmed on the bed beside him, struggling against her restraints in a vain attempt to reach for him. As he kissed her, she was struck with the dizzying sensation as though she was drowning. He knew that she hadn't caught her breath before he closed his mouth over hers and fiercely drove what little breath she had out of her with his hot kiss.

When he broke this kiss, she was a little woozy and she just stared at him dazedly. He pinched one of her nipples and she gasped. He smiled and pinched harder, twisting slightly. Her gasp turned into a small mew of pain and she tried to pull away. "No resisting," he chided, letting go and lightly flicking the mildly sore bit of flesh.

"I... I didn't mean to," she said, her voice breathy with lust, "I couldn't help it." His soft chuckle put a shudder through her as gaze snapped to his face. Dread and desperate need clashed within her, plainly written over her face. The hand resting on her throat slowly tightened. As he gradually squeezed, she began to breathe faster and a flush spread over her face. "Oh god," she whimpered and he grinned.

"Should I stop?" he asked lightly, amused by how her heart beat seemed to quicken with each word. He stopped squeezing, holding her throat just tight enough to let her feel the verge of being truly in distress. Her eyes rolled and she shuddered. Her legs kicked feebly and she pressed her wrists hard to her chest. Lightly, he shook her and she made a gutteral, animalistic sound of pleasure. "Is that so?" he mused.

Her mouth was open and small whimpers escaped as he shook her again, a touch harder. She arched up against his arm, parting her legs slightly with a long, low moan. He let go and she tossed her head with an almost pained noise. "What do you want?" he asked. She gave a ragged sob of frustration. He stood up and stepped away from the bed. She watched him, her eyes half wild with lust. "I can't give you what you want," he continued conversationally as he began to unbutton his shirt, "Unless you say something."

"I don't ... I don't know what I want," she wailed. He arched his eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest, shirt sleeves rolled up and the neck of his shirt unbuttoned. A measure of pain was in her voice as she struggled to a sitting position. "Please... I... I just want more..." she said, surprised by how her words thickened with sudden tears and the frustration that lashed her. She reached towards him with her bound wrists in a pleading gesture, her gaze begging him.

"More is very vague," he said slowly, savoring the look in her eye and the way she shivered at the sound of his voice. "Tell me what you want," he repeated, the firmness of his tone making the statement a command. He noticed how her breath caught in her throat and the quick moment where she froze in place. He turned and picked up the knife.

As he turned it in his hands, he watched how she stared at it with an almost unholy lust. "I... I can't say it," she whispered, shaking her head and vainly attempting to clear her clouded mind. He shook a finger and made a tsking sound. As he moved the knife, light glinted off it and her gaze was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. "I... I can't," she said, panic creeping into her voice.

"Then you won't get anything," he said, moving to set the knife on the table. Her eyes widened. Lust battled her self consciousness, setting a keen edge to her sudden panic. "Nothing at all," he said, putting the tip of the blade down on the varnished wood. She licked her lips in a sudden nervous gesture. She opened her mouth and then closed it, visibly struggling to find the words. She pressed her wrists down hard into her lap, balling her hands into fists as she looked down, breathing hard.

"The... the knife," she said hesitantly, her own voice sounding strange to her ears. He picked up the knife and stepped towards her. He crouched down, holding the blade out where she could see it. Her heart beat a little faster at the sight of the light glinting silver on the steel.

"This knife?" he said, enjoying the sight of her iron will crumbling. "This knife right here?" he asked, turning it, making sure that it flashed and winked at her. She nodded, her mouth going dry. "What about it?" he asked, suspecting he knew full well what she wanted but deciding that it was immensely more fun to make her say it.

"I... I want to feel it," she said in a whispered rush, looking ashamed and chastened. He turned the flat of the blade against her skin and her head whipped up as she took a sharp breath in. Slowly, he moved it up her shin and to her thigh.

"This?" he said, enjoying the way she struggled not to squirm. She moaned softly as the tip briefly touched where her thighs met just above her knees and then trailed away to the outside of her leg. Slowly, gently, he traced a zigzaging path up to about the middle of her right thigh. Each light touch of the steel was like electric, setting her blood afire.

Whimpers and moans just seemed to escape with each breath. When he stopped, she looked at him dazedly, confused as to why he stopped. He took her wrists in hand and her eyes widened. "Don't move," he said firmly. The cold kiss of steel parted the packing tape and lay nestled between her wrists, the dangerous edge pressed firmly by them. He stood up and resumed taking off his shirt, watching how she looked back and forth between him and the knife she held awkwardly. "Don't drop it," he said, setting his shirt over the back of a chair.

In her half fevered state, she couldn't help watching how he moved. She found herself seized with the powerful desire to feel his skin beneath her teeth, to bury her face in the hollow of his shoulder at the neck and to press her breasts against his chest. Lost in this train of thought, her awkward hold of the knife was compromised and it landed in her lap. He looked over and shook his head. "I told you not to drop it," he said.

She looked down and realized the knife was in her lap in sudden shock. She looked up to see him holding the flogger. Her eyes widened and she paled slightly. "Now what am I going to do with you?" he said, his tone sweet and yet ominous at the same time. Despite herself, she moved back on the bed. That was when he laughed. The knife lay nestled between her thighs, just close enough to brush her pubic hair and threaten future contact. As she squirmed back, it shifted and she froze. The look of surprised panic and utter lust made him laugh again. "We'll save that for later," he said, reaching over and picking up the knife.

"Take the tape off," he said, gesturing towards her wrists with the falls of the flogger. He noted how she gave a quick look at his hand, wary and yet excited. With a slight shake to her fingers, she peeled her makeshift restraints off of her wrists. As she was working on the last bit, he stepped around the corner of the bed. Just out of her peripheral vision, he lifted the flogger.

In a single fluid motion, he snapped the falls through the air. More noise then impact, the falls struck her left shoulder and brought a cry of surprise. She jumped and turned, eyes wide. A ribbon of tape clung to her left wrist as she brought her arms up to protectively cover her breasts as his gaze settled on them. "The tape," he said mildly. She looked down at the tape in confusion, as though it had just magically appeared in that moment. She pulled it off and flung it aside. He made a soft noise of disapproval. "Not on the floor," he chided.

She stood and stooped to pick it up. The flogger cracked again and a welt rose up on her ass. Again she yelped. "Hmm..." he mused, "I see now why he included that. Put it on." She looked over at him. She could see how his erection strained against his clothes. She stared at his groin, unable to stop herself from thinking about how good it would feel to swallow him down. The flogger snapped again and this time she saw the blow coming. Her eyes closed as a shudder went through her and she bit her lip, restraining another cry of pain.

He gestured towards the ball gag on the table. Reluctantly, she stood up. As she picked up the gag and put it on, she looked over at him. He knew that the silicon ball was the last thing she wanted in her mouth at that moment. He also knew that he wasn't done with the flogger. The last thing either of them wanted was someone interrupting their fun. Once properly gagged, she folded her hands in her lap and sat down primly on the end of the bed.

The demure tilt of her head and ever so proper way she composed herself, despite the fact that she was nude amused him. If she had been clothed, she would have looked the image of feminine propriety, with the exception of the gag. Instead, it was a pleasant burlesque of the image and made him briefly reconsider the aesthetics of the gag. Her composed image of calm shattered when he let fly with a stronger blow. The sting of earlier was replaced with a deeper percussive force that brought the beginnings of a bruise along the flat of her right shoulder blade. Her cry was muted. Her eyes were wide and her arms were flung open as she almost threw herself to her feet.

Something delightfully submissive and primal was in her eyes even as they rolled in pain. "Hold the back of the chair," he commanded. She stood and took hold of the top slat of the shaker style chair. She looked into the mirror across the room and watched as he lifted his arm. Her eyes closed in anticipation as the first in a flurry of moderate blows fell over her back. From her shoulders down to the back of her thighs, her skin seemed to burn. He tossed the flogger aside to the table and walked up to her. As he ran his hands over her bruising back, she arched and gave a strangled groan.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her hips back to his. He pressed a fingertip into the thicket of pubic hair between her thighs and smiled when he felt how damp she was. Slowly, he tickled her labia, enjoying the way her breathing came faster and harder. When he took his hand away, she groaned in protest. He reached up behind her head and unbuckled the gag. "Mmm," he sighed, burying his face in her hair as he embraced her, pressing her body hard against his.

One of her slender hands settled lightly against the side of his face as she gave a liquid sigh. She turned in his arms and took his face in her hands. She kissed him. Slowly at first and then with greater abandon as her self consciousness fell away. She pressed herself against him, moving her cool hands down from his cheeks, along his chest and down to his waist. He chuckled and took hold of her wrists. "Ah," he said with a wicked smile, "You can't just take what you want."

She gave a frustrated growl, not fully realizing that she did so as she attempted to pull her wrists out of his grip. "You must ask for it," he said, putting emphasis on every word as he looked her deeply in the eyes.

"Shut up and fuck me," she said, her words harsh with hunger. His eye brows arched and then he laughed. She tugged harder at his grip on her wrists. "Take off your damn pants and just ...." she started when he moved her wrists behind her back into a quick shoulder lock. Her words faded away into a gasping sigh of pleasure. He turned her around to face the bed, holding both her wrists with one hand.

"See that bed," he whispered in her ear, "You are going to lie down on it after you *ask* for what you want. Then, you *might* get it." She made an inarticulate noise of frustration that turned into a whimper as he applied more pressure to the lock. "Now, ask for it," he said firmly. He suddenly let go and stepped back. She turned and looked at him, her body quivering with need.

"Will you, please, fuck me?" she said, looking as though she was about to pounce on him and tear his pants to shreds. He picked up the knife and all of the simmering tension vanished. She stared at it as though entranced. He very carefully skimmed the edge of the blade down her cheek, watching as her eyes fluttered closed and the lines of her face softened.

With deliberate slowness, he traced a line down to the cleft between her breasts. She held her breath as he angled the knife so that the tip of the blade was against her skin. "Ask me again," he said, "like you mean it. Better yet, beg." Her eyes remained closed as a shiver went through her at the word 'beg'. He teased her breasts with the knife, watching as she attempted to form a cohesive thought.

"Please," she breathed, shuddering at each motion of the knife, "oh, please...." Her head lolled as she trembled. He watched as she sank slowly down onto the bed as she became weak with desire. "Oh... oh god...." she whimpered, "Please... please fuck me." He twitched the knife a little harder against her skin and she gave a thin, almost keening noise of agony and pleasure. "Please," she wailed, tears beginning to form as she threw her head back and thrust her breasts out.

He put the knife down on the table and stepped out of his pants. She looked at him, tearful in her desperation. He dipped his head and caught one of her full nipples in his mouth. As he sucked on it, he slipped a finger deep inside her. "Ahh..." she gasped, shuddering hard with a sudden orgasm. He smiled and rolled her nipple between her teeth, enjoying the way she gave little cries of pain and pleasure.

He stood up, and was about to turn and pick up the condom sitting on the table when she nearly made him stagger. Her mouth, soft, warm, and greedy, wrapped around his erection. He groaned as her tongue writhed over his phallus and she made a soft whimpering sound. With an almost ferice motion, she wrapped herself about his right leg and sucked eagerly on him.

While she attempted mightily to draw an orgasm out of him, it remained just tantilizingly out of reach. She made small noises of frustration as he gently, but firmly disentangled himself from her. He slipped the condom on and motioned to her to move back more on the bed. He lay down beside her and smiled. Carefully, he guided her to straddle him. As she sheathed him within herself, she shuddered with pleasure. With his guidance, she exuberantly rode him, whimpering and making other noises of pleasure.

Slowly his orgasm built. She, on the other hand, was increasingly incoherent and her vigorous motion began to slow as her own orgasms rocked her repeatedly. Frantic for more but too weak to continue, she put her head down on his chest and gave a small sob of frustration. With a light touch, he stroked her back, smiling at how she shuddered with pleasure. "What do you want?" he said, knowing the answer but enjoying how she struggled in her reply.

"I... I.. ahh..." she said, her voice just above a whisper as he pulled on her hair. "Oh..." she gasped as he teased her left breast with his free hand. He looked up into her face expectantly, enjoying the small, pained look as he let go of her and folded his hands on his chest. "Please... Please give me more," she plead.

"Mmm," he mused, "More of this?" He thrust his hips and her eyes rolled, her body freezing above him as she climaxed. "Or more of this?" he said before pulling her down against him and biting her neck. She gave a small cry of shock that turned into a low, sensual moan as he ground her skin between his teeth. He decided that he particularly enjoyed the sound she had just made and bit her again, this time wringing a shuddering gasp. The entire time, he could feel her body writhe with successive orgasms.

Firmly, he disentangled himself from her, smiling at her soft, pained sounding wail of protest. She reached for him and he took hold of her hands. As he tightened his grip and put her into a mild state of discomfort, she shivered. He arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he said. She stared at him from beneath heavy lidded eyes. Slowly, he bent her wrists back, watching her face. As pressure began to turn into pain, her eyes rolled and her mouth opened, giving tiny whimpers.

He let his grip move to her wrists as he knelt over her. Pressing her wrists down into the bed, gripping hard enough to make her squirm beneath him from the pain, he nudged her legs apart with a knee. She threw her head back and began to breathe faster as he switched his grip to holding both wrists above her head with one hand. She lifted her hips in a silent plea as he rubbed the head of his erection against her labia. He continued to tease her, watching as she tossed her head and made noises of agony.

Softly, she began to weep as she arched beneath him. "Please," she sobbed, "Oh, please.." His sudden thrust into her made her cry out. Caught up in a whirl of lust driven confusion, she wept as she made noises of pleasure. When she could find enough coherence to speak, she babbled in desperation, "Please don't stop. Oh god, please don't stop..." Enthusiastically, he sought his pleasure as she wept and begged for more. He let go of her wrists, supporting himself with his arms and he noted that she didn't move. Gradually, she became increasingly weak as he continued to fuck her.

When his orgasm stormed over him, he thrust faster and harder. Simply helpless beneath him, she could only manage to squirm as small shrieks of pleasure came with each thrust. Once he had spent himself, he became still. Where she had previously become frantic, she simply went fully limp. He looked down at her and realized that she had fainted. With a chuckle, he disentangled himself. He took the corner of the coverlet that had worked its way free in the midst of their fucking, and threw it over her as he turned to clean himself up.

With the beginnings of a plan for how to drive her into that utterly submissive and desperate state again, he walked to the bathroom, smirking at the soft snore that came from the bed.

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