At first he was kind. He made me climb onto the bottom step of a small ladder before cuffing me to the horizontal chin bar fixed in his door frame. Then he got a cotton belt and secured my other wrist. And another belt like a tie with a big Windsor knot around my neck.
As I looked at him curiously, awaiting the next development, he produced the plastic spatula with a flourish and a ‘ta-da’ which made me smile… with a certain amount of trepidation.
The ‘thwack’ as the flat part made contact with my bottom confirmed my suspicions that my first foray into bondage and pain might not be such a pleasurable experience.
After a short time inflicting discomfort upon my derriere, he flipped the tool over and inserted the handle inside me, all the time, flicking casually at my clit with his fingers.
Waiting for me to come, before kicking the step away and starting to flog me more determinedly. I hung there, defenceless, for some time, as he beat the soft butt cheeks until they were glowing pink. The belt around my neck was tightening but not dangerously so. My toes unable to reach the ground, the pressure on my shoulders from taking the whole weight of my body was becoming acutely uncomfortable and if I loosened my grip of the bar and relied on the cuffs to support me, they cut into my wrists. So I clung on stoically when he slid his fingers into me and fucked me with them.
After a while, I forgot the pain and submerged myself in the pleasure. My knees came up to accommodate the passage of his digits, whilst the tension grew inside me until I thought I would burst. My body throbbed and a curious weightlessness engulfed me. I was aware of enjoying the feeling of suspension as opposed to being grounded against the bed. Simultaneously slapping with the spatula and probing with his fingers, he broke the resistance within me and I had no choice but to melt all over his hand with a shuddering sigh.
When he had finished admiring his handiwork, he replaced the step beneath my feet and helped me down, before carefully washing and drying the implement and replacing it in the cutlery drawer.
It makes me smile when I see it there because I know, whatever happens in the future, whenever he sees that piece of equipment, he will think of me.
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