Thursday, January 15, 2009

The Lady - Chapter 1

Her skin ripples, a soft whisper of movement as awareness of Her presence embraces and surrounds. Beneath the blindfold, her eyes flutter as her heartbeat drums a staccato against the pale flesh of her breast. She breathes deep and whimpers in pained ecstasy as her Lady’s scent fills her senses.

The small hairs on the back of her neck stand straight as warmth reaches out and almost caresses. Swaying, she undulates towards Her presence, yearning for Her touch.

caer is naked, her arms pulled tight behind her back, encircled with soft leather cuffs, strong with a velvet underband that caresses a translucent blue-veined wrist. Her shoulders tremble slightly, pulling her hands tight like this behind her always strains but she welcomes the small pain and offers it to Her with unspoken gratefulness.

She kneels, thighs spread wide as told, whispering a mantra to herself to keep open and available with pure devotion and determination. The delicate pale pink labia, already dewed with moisture and proof of her arousal glisten in the muted candlelight. The small breasts, tip tilted with swollen crimson nipples tremble as she moves restlessly on her knees. She straightens, thrusting her soft breasts out for Her use.

Cool, soft braided leather slip along her cheek causing her to start and stifle a cry. She can smell her own odour on its twisted cool surface and moans. Slowly, gently, barely touching, her Lady caresses her face, following the contour of jaw down the sweep of neck with its thick collar, touching and slightly flicking the straining shoulder blade then dropping to the plump, swollen breasts.

caer gasps as she feels the long slender stalk of the crop push in under her breasts, in the crease where the soft flesh meets the broad ribcage. As if weighing their bounty, her Lady lifts the breasts away from her chest, digging in with a sweet sharp pressure that makes caer cry out …

Her breasts, swollen, the nipples aching, are suspended for a moment and then she suddenly feels her Lady’s soft tongue sweep across their swollen tips.

Between her legs caer feels her arousal swell in a trickle of glistening clearness that trails a teardrop of diamonds across her inner thigh.

Her breasts fall back against her chest as her Lady pulls the crop from beneath them.

caer strains beneath her blindfold, eyes fluttering, ears straining as she tries to ascertain where her Lady stands.

She feels warmth as her Lady’s presence is suddenly behind her. She sighs as Her long slender fingers tangle in the muted ebony of tumbled curls. Tugging, she sways back, thighs trembling as she seeks her balance. She feels her Lady’s warm breath against her ear, not quite touching, a teasing promise that makes her shiver, goosebumps rippling the golden skin.

caer feels the promise of the crop again, trailing down the wings of her shoulder blades, pulling slightly at the bound hands, then suddenly, shockingly, she feels its leather kiss between her legs. Panting, she keeps her thighs spread although instinct pushes her to pull close, to protect that delicate inner skin against the intrusion.

caer moans as the fall of the crop snaps against her spread inner lips, flicking the swollen nub of her pleasure and torment.

A wet sweet sound as moisture spatters against the long, pale lips, as the crop licks at her perfidious body, then again, soft, then hard and she feels Her Lady’s hand at her neck, holding her still and breasts trembling, she fights to stay still as her Lady demands.

The hot sweet lick of pain against her most delicate parts sparks fire in caer’s soul. She moans quietly, pushing back against her Lady’s fingers which dig cruelly into the slender neck, grasping the collar which declares Her ownership.

She feels her Lady’s sweet breath against her cheek, vanilla laced coffee scent which floods her with an atavistic rush of memory and want.

Her own hands, capable and practical, checking the beans for freshness, sliding them through expert fingers, assessing the oil and colour and texture. Breathing deep the deep, rich scent and choosing carefully the amount. Arms piled with fresh coffee beans, dairy fresh butter and crusty multigrain bread, slipping quietly into a silent house where her Lady sleeps a deep, welcoming sleep of contentment.

Muffling the grinder with a towel so as not to wake her Lady, slicing thick crusty rounds of yeasty grainy bread, topped with fresh churned butter and the jam she had put up the summer before. Setting the tray with Irish lace and heavy silver cutlery, pinching off the tip of a beautiful yellow tulip from the bunch she had bought her Lady yesterday, placing it in a small cut crystal vase on the pristine tray.

Then, with a click allowing classical music, muted and sweet, to infuse the quiet air of the house, carefully balancing her tray, eddies of ambrosic coffee scent eddying about her, she gently wakes her Lady.

A sharp nip at her ear brings her back to the reality of sensation. Consciousness floods back in a delicious wave of pain and pleasure, so inextricably entwined she cannot differentiate where one starts and the other ends.

She gasps as her Lady kneels behind her, her Lady’s hands coming around the trembling torso to cup the heaving breasts. Lost, she cannot stop herself from leaning back against Her, the feel of her Lady’s hard nipples, the soft fullness of her heavy breasts against her back so all encompassing she panics as she feels the heavy, painful pressure deep inside so intensely that she fights for control.

Her Lady’s soft seductive breath is hot against her ear. caer pants, desperately, harshly, her breath loud in the quiet air.

Her Lady grasps the firm breasts, their sweet flesh barely filling Her palms, but the nipples, thick, engorged with blood and arousal deliciously swollen.

caer stills as her Lady’s hands cup, squeeze, and then pull, thumb and forefingers grasping the crimson tips suddenly, pinching and pulling them away from the soft flesh.

Between her spread thighs, caer feels a warm, hot stream of liquid trickle from the swollen, aroused folds of her most intimate place.

Without conscious volition, caer pushes back against the delicious, heavy breasts of her Beloved, her skin singing with desire and lust, relishing the feel of hard pebbly nipples scraping along her shoulder wings, the hot soft give of breast flesh.

Rich, earthy, the air is perfumed with their arousal, hot, rich female scents, clean and astringent as their bodies burgeon and flow, hot sweet trickles of desire and preparation bedewing thighs, swelling breasts and engorging nipples.

Deep within, the hot sweet ache of lust, the familiar heaviness building deep in her groin, caer trembles on her abraded knees. The building, the pushing, the urgency of her need begins to overwhelm and she trembles, her strong body weak and disoriented as her Lady plays, pulls and pinches, abusing the soft breast flesh of Her plaything with delight. Against her back her Lady’s breasts create a symphony of sensation that threaten to drag caer into a maelstrom of acquiescence.

“Not yet.” Her Lady’s voice, implacable.

Tears seep unbidden from beneath the blindfold, acid trails of despair trailing a crystal trail of regret along the flushed cheeks. caer breathes deep, seeking her center, seeking her control as she has been taught by Her Lady and finds a shaky, tremulous hold over her treacherous body.

Ruthlessly, she mentally pushes back the hot heaviness which wants to explode from her abused flesh, grasping the dissipating threads of determination to exert a terrible control over what she cannot have.

Her Lady stands and caer moans in despair as she feels the soft warmth of her Lady’s body leave her back, her breasts bereft as her Lady’s hands leave their sensitive tips.

Then she feels Her beloved presence in front of her and her Lady’s hands are at her eyes and the flaps unclipped and caer blinks even in the muted candle lit glow of the room, her great eyes luminous, their deep, rich sherry coloured orbs glittering with the sheen of tears.

Her lady stands before her, Her very presence a shining beacon of glory, the pale hair silky and wild around the ivory face, Her pale blue eyes stormy, glittering and clear, relishing the sight of Her property kneeling before Her. Her magnificent breasts are bare, full, heavy, swollen globes, deliciously soft skinned, the luscious nipples, swollen tipped and erect.

Capturing the adoring gaze of her girl, She smiles a rich, lazy smile of ownership. Her Lady carefully, slowly cups a heavy breast.

caer, frozen, feels her mouth dry as she watches Her Lady hold Her own breast in Her soft, strong hands, cupping the heavy weight of it and holding it like a luscious piece of fruit, then leaning, her Lady comes near. caer watches as her Lady’s beautiful breast, the flesh firm, the skin soft, ivory pale over flushed muscle and the rich swelling deliciousness of it fills her gaze and a rush of intense, hot need to her lower body, so overwhelming she almost cries out in pain.

Her Lady delicately, softly rubs the hot tip of Her erect nipple against the flushed cheek of Her possession, trailing the sweet tender flesh along the path of tears as if sipping up the reality of caer’s submission, coating Her own flesh in the salt bounty of Her property’s sacrifice.

caer sways, her eyes caught by the beauty of the pale tipped breast, its tip glistening with her own tears, the flesh incredibly soft and pale, the fingers of Her Lady denting the swollen, rich underside with its delectable rich underhang.

Still holding her full, heavy breast, the tip glittering, her Lady pulls a small hassock in front of where Her property kneels. Now, Her breasts are directly in front of the pleading gaze of Her submissive. Gently, She tangles Her fingers in the tumbled curls of Her darling, and guides Her breast to the soft lips which tremble as caer sees the bounty being conferred upon her.

Like a baby at the breast, her Lady rubs the salt tipped glistening nipple against Her property’s small mouth and obediently, caer opens her trembling lips, moaning as she sighs and closes her eyes and pulls into her undeserving mouth, the prize she has been offered.

She can taste her own despair on the full, warm deliciousness of her Lady’s flesh and the reality that she has been given this bounty, this delight, overwhelms. Breathing through her nose, she suckles strongly at her Lady’s breast, her lips pulled up and around her teeth so as not to mark the beautiful flesh, pulling the hard swollen nipple to the back of her mouth, her tongue laving the sensitive tip, her lips working strongly at the ducts surrounding the nipple.

As she suckles, caer feels her Lady’s hands tangle in the black curls, tugging at the roots, lightly, then harder until a hot searing delicious pain sparks fire into the aching tips of her own breasts. She whimpers against her Lady’s sweet flesh, tears seeping from the corners of her shut eyes, feeling overwhelmed between the bounty of her Lady’s flesh and the ache now spreading throughout her abused scalp.



Anonymous said...

Your writing so brilliant. You are like an artist with words so vivid that no lens could capture.

O said...

beautiful, evocative writing. Can't wait for it to be continued!

selkie said...

Tallgrass,bless you for your kind words!

O, I'm glad you enjoyed it and I'm working on the balance of the story...

TFP said...

I like it very much.

ronnie said...

Hi Selkie, I love your writing it's very good, thanks for sharing this.


selkie said...

thank you both TFP and ronnie - I am hoping the psycological dynamic is as compelling in this story as the physical.