A Gift by Neil

She walks in the door and slowly looks around the room, the blood red nail of Her index finger taping the card held loosely in Her hand.  The card simply reads "A GIFT" with a time and address printed across the bottom in black ink.  No other information was present, and the messenger that delivered the card was unable to give any insight on who it was from.  She had tried to dismiss it from Her mind, but the thought kept creeping back in.  Her curiosity finally got the best of Her and one hour before the appointed time She was getting into Her car and now here She was.

Her eyes are drawn to the figure in the center of the room.  A naked male, bound and hanging in mid air by way of an intricate set of ropes.  Always one to be in control of any situation She moves slowly, surveying the room to find that no one else is there.  She walks toward the bound male, each click of Her stiletto heels echoing through the room.  Walking up behind him, She begins to admire the delightful way he is bound.  When Her hands touches his flesh a quivered breath leaves his body as it jerks, but the bindings allow very little movement.  He is bound in an upright position.  His legs bent at the knee so that each ankle is bound to his upper thigh tightly.  Another rope binds his calves to his lower thighs, and then finally around the knee joint.  The other ends of the ropes are tied to hooks in the ceiling, causing his knees to be pulled apart as well as supporting part of his weight.

Slowly Her finger traces the ropes, examining them, being a student of fine rope work it was obvious that whoever did this was a Master of the art.  Her hand moves to the rope harness binding the core of his body.  The work is magnificent, running between his legs, around his waist, then up his body.  She marveled at how the rope sectioned off parts of his flesh, there was something about a well bound male that made Her pulse increase and Her body heat up and this specimen was exceptional.

His arms were bound above his head, first at the elbows, then again at the wrists.  They were bent at the elbows and the wrists were tied off to a rope that went around his head.  As She followed that rope around She noticed that it went through his open mouth.  She ran a finger over the rope as it traveled through his mouth, his moan making Her want to smile, but She kept it inside.

Her finger continued down his chest, this time the nail dragging across flesh rather then the rope as She soaked in the human artwork.  When Her finger reached his cock Her lips turn upward in the smallest of grins.  The hard cock was bound as well, the rope was thinner, crisscrossing up the shaft, digging in deeply to the flesh as it twitched.  His balls were bound, the rope wrapped round and round, stretching them away from his body, and then tied off to the floor.  She could not help Herself as She reached out and gave the rope a tug, his grunt sending a quick wave of excitement through Her and She released the rope and walked around him slowly.  She just looked at him for a long time admiring the craftsmanship as well as the finished product.  She loved how the ropes looked, and how the artist used multiple ropes to support his weight, yet done is such a way that they extended to the sides, leaving his front and back exposed and unobstructed. It was perfect.

Turning, She walked to the table along the wall.  She looked over all the items placed neatly on the table, clamps, floggers, whip, cane, each one looked to be of the highest quality.  She picked up a flogger and began to run Her fingers through the leather strands.  As She turned around again She noticed the large, overstuffed chair along the other wall in front of the bound male.  She walked to the chair and sat down, playing with the flogger as She crossed Her legs and looked at the helpless male.  Next to the chair there was a table with cold bottles of water, a bottle of Her favorite wine with a glass, and a bowl...filled with... rubber bands.  She laughs and thought to Herself...Someone has been paying attention.

Standing She moved to Her victim, Her fingers drifting over his body as She walks behind him.  Then it begins.  Smooth, steady strokes across his back, moving downward to his ass, then circling around to his chest and pelvis, covering his entire body as She circles him again and again.  They were light to medium in force, turning his body a nice red color.  Then "TWACK" the first hard strike lands and he grunts and jerks in his binds.  Her hand moves over his back, examining the lines that the tails of the flogger had made.  She drags Her nails across them hard...then "TWACK"  another strike, harder then the last.  Stroke after stroke rain down on him, the lines and welts from the tails making a lovely pattern over his body.  She takes Her time, as if the flogger was a paintbrush and he the canvas.  Each mark placed precisely where She wanted it.

Time seemed to melt away as She moved form one implement to the next, each one leaving a different mark, producing a different sound as She conducted a symphony of pain and pleasure, his pain and Her pleasure.  Finally She sat down in the chair and poured Herself a glass of wine.  Her body glistening with perspiration and flooded with a euphoric sensation. She sipped the wine and just looked at him as he hung there, he had taken everything, the sounds he made making Her body quiver.  She thought to Her self, what a lovely sight, as She absorbed it...the bound male, the beautiful ropes, the lovely marks that She painted over him, the flickering fire in the background.  It was then that She noticed it, something in the fire.

Taking another sip of wine She placed the glass down and walked to the fire, then reached down and took hold of the leather handle and pulled it from the fire.  She felt a wave of passion deep inside Her as She looked at the glowing end of the rod.  It was only about a half of inch square, but very clear, Her initials glowed on the end of the rod.  On his ass, or thigh, they would be almost unnoticed as small as they were, but She smiled non the less and quickly spun and walked to the table, grabbed the bucket of ice that held the water bottles and moved to him dropping the bucket on the floor.

With Her free hand She grabbed hold of his hard, bound cock, then looked into his eyes for the first time.  Deep into his eyes, but there was not fear, nor a begging look for mercy,  it was more a look of...devotion...desire to please.  She smiled and pressed the red hot iron into the head of his throbbing cock and then they both screamed, him in pain and Her in pleasure as Her body explodes in orgasm.  She drops the rod into the bucket of ice, releasing his cock and shivers, basking in the glow.  As She regains Her composure She sees him, the thrashing subsiding and She grabs a hand full of his hair.  She smiles as She looks into his eyes again, moving Her lips to his, almost brushing them as She whispers "Thank You", then laughs and tosses his head, spins on Her heel, and walks out of the room.