bondage lesson

She stood erect, her legs spread wide by a metal bar strapped
between her ankles forcing them apart. Her arms were pulled
behind her back, strapped together at the elbows and wrists
forcing her breasts forward.

Her long blonde hair cascaded down her bound arms all the way to
her slim waist. She was gagged, her mouth stuffed with a penis
gag and covered by a thick leather strap. Otherwise she was
completely nude.

That was the standard stuff, in and of itself arousing as it
silenced and commanded her naked body, offering her charms in
wanton invitation. But there was more tonight – much more!

On each of her erect nipples was a small spring-clamp. These
connected to a thin leather strap, which then connected together
in a heavier strap. This went up to the ceiling rafter and over a
pulley there. At the other end of this strap from her nipples,
dangling just a few feet in front of the girl, was a metal
weight. It rested no more than an inch above a box with a metal
plate on it’s top. In fact, if the girl weren’t leaning back and
away, her taut breasts pulling at the strap, the weight would
rest on the box. The girl arched herself backward, trembling,
struggling to keep the weight away from the box. She had good
reason to.

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I awake looking into my owner’s rich, loving eyes. I passed out mere
seconds after my explosion, spent and hanging lax. I was gently laid
down, all the ropes and restraints removed, the mask, the gag and the
tape lying in a ball by my bed, and my partner, no longer my owner,
gingerly massaging color and warmth into my arms.

For half an hour we followed a beaten path, then decided to enter
into the thick of the forest. We went on for some minutes: at a
certain point it was as if we were passing the threshold of an
enchanted realm, and time was no more. The ground was crowded with
fallen branches, rocks covered with musk, stones of different shapes
and dimensions, tall grasses. A beautiful raven, black as the
deepest night, was following us from the beginning of the morning
and stopped himself to rest on the tallest branch of a tree nearby.
Squirrels were playing. There was an exquisite fragrance of wet
earth and mint plants. For a long time we remained silent.

At last my Master told me: “I think that this is the right place.
The trees are dense enough, and there’s a good supply of the kind
of wood I was looking for”. The wood around us was a mixed forest,
partly made of conifers and partly of oaks and birches. I was
dressed in a wool sweater, a pair of orange shorts, and heavy
shoes. At my neck I wore a silver collar with very big turquoises.
In my earlobes there were eight small golden earrings and two large
ones of silver and turquoise. They were so heavy that were slowly
stretching my holes. Over his jeans Alex wore a very big belt, with
an heavy engraved buckle.

The voice of my beloved was deep and beautiful: “Slave, come here.”
Immediately I did so. “Look at that tree.” said my Lord, pointing
to an old, lovely pine, with a big trunk covered with resin. I
swallowed.
He took my left hand and led me in front of the tree. “Bind your
hair, slave.” – he ordered. I obeyed. My hair, cut very short three
years ago, is now of shoulder length. “Take down your shorts and
panties.” My Master said. I performed. “And now, darling, embrace
the trunk.” For a moment, only for a moment, I hesitated.

My Lord slapped me with the back of his ringed hand. I fell on the
ground. “Useless slave, do I have to repeat my orders now before
you deign obey them?” I was weeping; my Lord’s hand had been even
heavier than usual. He was wearing his heavy family onyx ring,
engraved with the signet of his grandfather.

Painfully I stood up and embraced the trunk. “You disobeyed me.”
His voice was hard. “Forgive me, Master… please, I didn’t want
to disobey you, I didn’t mean to, really…” “You were slow, you
hesitated… don’t you know who is the Master here?” My eyes were
full of tears. “Please, my Lord, punish me, but don’t be angry! I
was slow and stupid, but I never wanted to disobey you…”

Alex answered: “I’m not angry; you are luck that for this time you
don’t see me in that state.” Now my face was in contact with the
trunk of the pine. I couldn’t see my Master, but I clearly heard
the sound of branchlets being broken; then, after a while, his
beloved steel voice: “I will beat you with these six birch-rods.
Do you have any question?” I asked, with trembling voice: How many
strokes will I receive, my Lord?” He answered: “It depends. I want
to break these rods on your buttocks. When all six are broken your
birching will be finished.” “Master” – I said as sweetly as possible -
“Yes, slave?” “Please – I repeated, because I was feeling really
repentant – hit me bloody, but don’t be angry. I’ll never hesitate
again, never”. My Lord said, with unexpected sweetness: “My dear,
as I told you before, I’m not angry. I love you, darling, you are
the slave that I’ve always dreamed of. Now, listen to my orders.
During this beating you will not be bound, but it’s better for you
to remain embraced to the tree. If you change position, I’ll hit
you harder. Is it clear?” “Yes, my Master”. Then he continued:
“You can cry as much as you want, of course, only animals will hear
you. I love you, Laylah.”
The raven on the tree nearby was laughing.
My Lord began my birching.
A fire different from any other I had experienced exploded in my
buttocks. I cried: “Lord, please, forgive me.” Another painful
stroke and: “I forgive you, slave.” He kissed me, then continued
my beating. I cried and cried and cried. Again the raven mocked
me with his verse.
My Master went on for a long time, while I tried with all my strength
to maintain the position he had commanded me. At the end I couldn’t
stay still anymore, and, exhausted, I moved, half collapsing on
the ground. The strokes now arrived on my shoulders. “Please, my
Lord – I begged – Please, give me some moments to regain position…”
His voice was liquid iron: “No, darling, no mercy. I will go on
without interruptions. If you want you can say red or yellow, but
if I don’t heard a safeword, I will continue.”
One stroke reached my flanks. At last I was again in position and
the target became again my bottom. I was mad with pain; but just
when I was thinking: “No pleasure, this time” a huge wave of
ecstasy wrapped me and rocked, lulled me in its tender arms. I was
again dissolving in that well known ocean… thank you, my Goddess…

After a time I perceived as interminable, he stopped and told me:
“The birch rods are all broken, now come on my knees.” He was sitting
on a large stone. I bent myself on his thighs, and waited. “Now
I’ll spank you, honey, and you will feel a lot of pleasure.” I was
in so deep a trance that I remained silent. He began spanking me.
“You are really an eyeful – my Lord told me – Your buttocks are
all bruised, and the marks are of many colours, blue, red, violet…
In two points where the branchlets hit with knots there are a few
drops of blood, but they are few indeed. I’m proud of my handywork.”

He spanked me very well, slowly, hotly, with a good rhythm. The
pain on a flesh so punished was hard, but there was also, as Alex
had said, an intense pleasure. I was feeling high with endorphins
and begged: “Please, green, Master …harder, my Master…” He
laughed, happily: “You wonderful slut of a slave!” In a few moments
I came – a wonderful, sweet, musked orgasm. My Lord embraced me
and cuddled me for a while. We were silent, for long, calm, serene
moments.
Then he advised me: “Darling, you happened to fall down the path
and bruise your face, didn’t you?” “Huh?… What, Master?” “Honey -
he told with sweetness – the mark of my ring… we must find an
excuse of some kind…”
“Oh, my Lord – I answered – why must it be this way? I’m so proud
of your marks! I dream a world in which men and women of every
kind, taste and opinion can be free to act without repressions…
my Goddess, a world of love, freedom and tolerance…” Alex answered,
solemn and simple at the same time: “I understand you very well.
I also am very proud of the marks that my beloved Lady impressed
on my body… but this world, exactly as it is in this moment, is
THE PURE EARTH – all is perfect, you must only Wake up, and live…”
“I’m Awake, my sweet Lord, and I LIVE…”
We began the way of return. Our friend the raven was still watching,
mocking and following us. “Brother Raven – I said to him – friend
of Wotan, grimes wrasen, this morning I didn’t give up my eye for
wisdom, but in this little ordeal I’ve gained love, a DEEPER love.
Thank you for having mocked me, as it was fit. Thank you for having
being present.” The bird cawed to us, then prepared himself to fly
away. “Blessed be!” I cried to him. Then I followed my Master
towards the beaten path.