Another minute clicked over on the bedside clock. She lay still yet restless, eager for the appointed time. A message pinged onto her cellphone and she jumped. The sound surprised her in more ways than one – only one person ever messaged her on this phone, yet she had heard the car pull up and footsteps enter the house. The rule was clear though – ‘respond to a message immediately’. She stood up from her kneeling position, stretched out some stiffness and moved to the drawer to retrieve her phone. The dampness between her legs felt sticky now she had moved, and she had to resist an urge to touch herself.
She picked up the phone and read the message:
‘Take your sleep mask and phone back to the bed. Resume the position and put on the mask and headphones. Play our favourite song. I will be with you in three minutes.’
She quickly grabbed her pink sleep mask from the drawer and climbed back onto the bed. She plugged in her earphones, scrolled to the song and then pulled the mask over her head. She lowered herself back down, knees apart, bottom high and facing the door. She pressed play and then pulled the mask down over her eyes. In the darkness, Freddie’s voice swelled and filled her head as the song began:
“Ooh, ooh, pain is so close to pleasure, oh yeah,
Sunshine and rainy weather go hand in hand together all your life,
Ooh, Ooh, pain is so close to pleasure everybody knows ….”
She lay in her personal darkness, absorbed in the moment and with Freddie’s rich tenor voice soaring inside her head. She heard nothing but the song, and so she gasped as she felt a gossamer-light touch that began at her shoulders and travelled down her body. The touch trailed along the cleft of her buttocks and down to her anal whorl. It was exquisitely light, tantalising and almost painfully erotic – too light for a finger. She wondered what it was. It felt like a feather. The tip teased the very centre of her whorl and she gasped, feeling her hole pulse with the irritation. Yes, it must be a feather. She never quite knew how each experience might go, and this was a new angle.
She fought to stay still as the feather flicked lower to circle around her pussy lips, teasing the smooth, shaven flesh before travelling down her inner thigh. The feather lifted, then began its reverse journey up her other leg and back to her sex. She felt herself become wet and ready as the teasing continued, and she could feel eyes gazing at her blooming sex. She fought with every fibre to resit the urge to move out of position. Her muscles clenching in exquisite agony as the lightest of touches circled around her gaping sex lips and along her perineum to her anus, then back round again. The feather trailed across each buttock, raising goosebumps in its path, then returned to the sensitive flesh of her cleft and whorl.
The whole of her lower body was becoming super-sensitive and the whole focus of her being, whilst all the time the rich tenor voice echoed around her head. Her buttocks quivered with the tension and she grasped handfuls of the bedcover to help fight the urge to thrust a hand backwards and rub vigorously at her pussy and anus. And then it stopped. The feather was gone. She felt momentarily lost, alone and abandoned – and then the air was forced from her lungs and her upthrust buttocks were ignited. She felt a broad, white-hot line across both cheeks that was the signature kiss of the leather strap, brought into violent and rapid contact with her naked, upturned cheeks. The blow was not especially hard, but the shock of the blow upon her feather-sensitized buttocks left her breathless. Before she could fill her lungs the strap landed again, again and again and then stopped. She knelt, breathless, exhausted,disoriented and alive. More alive than ever before. Her breathing was ragged as she slowly recovered. She dipped her back and thrust out her bottom for more.
The story so far: