by Gabi Moore
“Zen Buddhist teachers sometimes strike their meditating students on the back with a stick,” I said slowly. I saw her breath enter her chest, then leave again.
“Do you know why?”
I audibly stepped closer towards her, one end of the strip knotted in my fist and the other free.
“It’s to bring them screeching right back to the present moment, to the now. To their breath. That’s all that matters, the breath.”
Her breath went in again, out again.
I took another step closer.
“I think you’re dying for me to fuck you right now. That’s all you can think of, isn’t it? Of me spreading open those pretty legs of yours and fucking you so hard you’ll have to limp out of here. You can’t stop thinking about it, can you? But I don’t want your thoughts to wander all over the place. Oh no. I want you to stay right here, right now. With me.”
I was now standing right behind her, as close as I could without physically touching her goosebumping skin. Something in the exquisite way her skin was puckering up told me she was focusing intently on the sound of my voice.
“Can you do that?” I breathed.
She gave a small nod.
The air in the room was electric. Slowed down and amplified, like the world seems just before a car crash, like the beautiful sharp moment before something delicate comes smashing to the ground…
I crouched down.
Her skin smelled like cotton and heat. I could feel my cock tightening in my jeans but paid it no attention. This was all about her. A long, slick wet trail on her inner thigh caught my attention. It nearly drove me into a frenzy to see it there. I hadn’t touched her, she had been in this studio for less than fifteen minutes, and already she was soaking wet. Fuck, it was hot.
“Tell me what you want,” I growled.
“I want…” she moaned softly, her head falling to one side.
I gently touched the looped end of the leather strip to her ass cheek and held it there. She was breathing more quickly.
“I want …I want to be fucked. Hard.”
I was silent. I only stroked the coiled strip over her defenseless flesh again and again. I wondered if I could hear her voice crackling and breaking.
“I want you to use me,” she moaned, “completely use me, and hold nothing back. I want you to take it all away from me, everything, I just want to come and come and come until I can’t think straight anymore.”
The passion in her voice sent a delicious thrill all through me.
“Good,” I said, and twirled the leather strip.
She was so fantastically wet. Little minx. I liked that. I traced the edge of the leather strip lower down until it was resting in the split between her cheeks, then slid it lower, and lower still, gently into that hidden little pool. When I pulled it away again it was glistening wet.
“Now see what you’ve done…”
“I’m so sorry, I’m just, I’m sorry I—”
In one swift movement I pulled the rope back and in a split second brought it whizzing back down again, hard, leaving an instant pink welt across the plumpest part of her backside. She yelped out in surprise, clinking the chains above.
“I told you to stay here with me,” I cooed into her ear. She said nothing. The breath only entered her chest, and left it again. The air still stung with the sound of leather against her skin. The pink disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. To my delight, she seemed even wetter than before.
“I’m here,” she said, so quietly I almost wondered if I had only imagined it.
My whole body swelled and hardened at the sight of her. Any other woman I would have been balls-deep and fucking by now. But she wasn’t any other woman. In fact, I had never seen a body respond like this before. She was electric. Like a goddess kept in the cage of a normal woman’s body for too long, she was so pent up I felt like she’d ignite before my very eyes with just a touch.
I matched my breathing to hers. Every fiber of my focus went to her body, so that I almost felt melded to her, so that when the second blow came down on her milky white ass, I felt it just as she did. This time she didn’t cry out, she only twisted, sucked in breath and writhed on the tree. The tree that I had built for her.
She seemed to swell and open before my very eyes. The bud of her pink pussy peeked out from between her legs, so wet now she was nearly dripping. I had to restrain myself. I had to breath deep and tell myself to calm down. The sight of her slick white thighs had me nearly blacking out from lust, but we had a deal. We were in this moment now, her and I together. And I was going to stay here, me, her, and the writhing mess that her body was becoming.
The whip came down again.
And again.
The studio – and the world – simply fell away. All that remained now was the sound of her breath slipping in and out of her amazing body. All of reality came crushing down around us, and condensed on that bright, perfect spot on her flesh. My cock bulged and strained in my jeans.
The next strike, she began to whimper. Her head fell to the side and she began to shake a little. It was unbelievable. I felt it in my own body – she was close to coming. Neither of us needed to say a word. I watched mesmerized for a moment as her body bucked and squirmed. She was in a daze, cunt soaked, skin slick with sweat.
“I’m going to make you come now,” I said quietly. And the words were like a spell. Her body froze and tightened, her pert rump tilted upwards to meet whatever treatment I would deliver. But I dropped the strap. I took a step closer to her, feeling like it took every shred of willpower to keep from reaching out and grabbing her.
I knelt down, my face a mere inch from that perfumed mound buried in her cheeks. I could almost feel the heat off of her. Almost taste it. She seemed to be losing control. Her body began to twitch and convulse.
“Kat, listen to me…”
She moaned.
“Kat, you will not come until I tell you to.”
She moaned again.
I took a deep, slow breath in.
“Wait …wait …”
Then my lips, only a few atoms removed from her gorgeous pussy, exhaled hard, and with one long, warm sigh, I breathed one word: “now.”
It was though the word was the first falling domino that set off a delicious chain reaction all through her excited body. It was as though I could actually watch the air from my lips touch her and ignite the immense powder keg she had inside her, just waiting for a touch, no matter how slight.
It took an instant, and a lifetime, but she came. The chains rattled and she bucked hard, and in an instant she was screaming, loudly. She threw back her head and flung her weight down and off her bound arms, her hips jerking madly as wave after wave of pleasure pummeled through her.
“Oh fuck … oh fuck!” she cried out.
I had to force myself to not reach out, to not embrace her and help her through it.
I could do nothing but smile dumbfounded as I watched her detonate and burn right before my eyes, her body becoming plasma. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t touched her. A braided cord had guided her to the edge and a single word had pushed her over.
She was exquisite.
“Oh god …oh please…” she was still whimpering, her orgasm sending shudders right through her long form. “Please fuck me,” she begged.
God in heaven, I wanted nothing more.
I reached forward and unbuckled her exhausted body, one clasp at a time, but before I undid the last restraints at her feet, I leaned forward and whispered into her ear.
“Kat, you couldn’t handle it,” I said, winking at her. Her face came alive and she raised an eyebrow at me.
“Really? Are you seriously telling me I’m ‘not ready’ for your cock?” she asked incredulously.
She stood before me wild-looking, hair loose, expression open and mischievous. She was glorious. If this is what one orgasm did to her, I couldn’t wait to see the effect of a whole string of them…
“Yes that’
s what I’m saying.”
“Pfft!” she said and grinned. “I’m not scared.”
“You should be.”
We gave each other a look. I nodded my head, took another step back and peeled off my shirt, then unbuttoned my pants. She started laughing. But when I dropped them to the floor and whipped off my boxers underneath, she fell silent.
“Oh.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes away. Most women react that way. They’re playful at first, then they realize what they’re actually in for. The little flutter of panic turns into full-blown fear. And then, when it comes down to it, that fear morphs again, and suddenly they want it, no matter how much it hurts. It’s like a sick little dare for them, a challenge, to see how much of my cock they can take…
“It’s …big,” she said quietly.
“Probably a little more than you’re used to,” I said breezily. I watched her throat bob up and down as she swallowed.
I pulled up my pants again and buckled them, watching the cogs going in her head.
“Contrary to what’s happened here this morning, I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, smiling. I leaned down and started to pick up her clothing.
“Let me get you something to drink,” I said and moved towards the kitchen. She stood for a while, thinking intently, then started to put her clothes back on. The tree loomed, all knowing, behind her, its chains hanging limp and its restraints empty.
Chapter 12 - Kat
I had already silently practiced millions of little speeches. On my way to work I internally lectured Anthony about just how ill suited we were for each other.
On my morning run I sat him down and proceeded to explain at length how I just wasn’t ready and I hated being pushed like this. And late at night, exhausted from a long day, I’d launch into a rant at him: why was he so goddam uptight about sex?
The irritating truth, though, was that Anthony had gone quiet. I had already felt boat-loads of guilt for the whole …tree incident, and I had already argued my case passionately in front of an imaginary jury of my mind, saying exactly why I hadn’t technically led him on, that we’d never agreed to be exclusive… but I soon found that he wasn’t banging on my door, demanding an explanation in any case.
My phone pinged.
Mark: Don’t worry, you can keep it here, at my place
I’ll never know what righteous bit of insanity had gotten ahold of me these days. I couldn’t believe I had sought out, commissioned and now paid for a seven-foot-tall sex toy in the shape of a tree. Once my head had stopped spinning and my toes had uncurled, the what-have-done question rapidly turned into a what-have-I-bought one.
The last thing I can more or less remember is begging him to make me come. Hard. I wanted a reset orgasm. One to truly fry my circuits. Well, I had asked, and I had received.
I had felt myself zinging all the way home, a little dazed, a little raw. It was fantastic. People all around me were going about their everyday lives while I felt like I had just touched God. All my limbs were still in place, and I still looked like myself when I peered into the mirror. But something drastic had shifted. Something was very, very different.
It seemed like a small miracle. I’ve always been the kind of woman that needed an hour of foreplay, a hot bath and six months’ written notice if I was going to eke out an orgasm. With my ex I had tackled the chore with the same seriousness I had reserved for my yearly appointment with the dental hygienist. Usually, if I could quiet my mind for half a split second, I could sneak in a quick moment of bliss and then clean up just before I had to start dinner.
But with him? He had made me come without even touching me. I didn’t know whether to stop thinking about it in case it jinxed the whole thing, or to brag to anyone who would listen. He had used that leather strap, sure, but on examining the area the next morning, I noticed there was zero evidence, no mark. Either he was supremely talented in that area or I had, in my frenzied state, imagined the whole thing…
So I was a sex zombie for a few days. Anthony had gone quiet and wasn’t really returning my calls, and I found myself idly reading the Wikipedia entry for Zen Buddhism, looking over my shoulder in case anyone caught me. And now Mark was texting me throughout the day, and we had to decide what to do with his, uh, massive creation.
Kat: Yeah I might have to. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s just too damn big
Mark: So you’ve said ;)
I laughed quietly to myself.
“Kat, are you with us?”
I snapped my head up and smiled broadly.
“Sorry! Stuff at home, you know how it is,” I said quickly, and stuffed my phone away. “I’m listening though. The iron fish were premature. Now we have a cheaper option but we’re committed to Thinkcreate, correct?”
It was a stupid position to be caught in. We had funded a giant shipment of miniature cast iron fish to be sent to Sri Lanka in partnership with an aid organization there.
The idea was that the fish could be cooked along with soups and stews, releasing tiny particles in the process and boosting the families iron intake, which was often deficient in diets the area. But now we had discovered the fish had a poor reception and there was a better pill option on the market anyway – cheaper and more accurately dosed – and the women wouldn’t be tempted to drill holes in them and wear them as jewelry. The only trouble was, the company we had already signed a year contract with were also our suppliers for other vitamins and it was clear to everyone who had worked with them so far that pulling the plug on one initiative would jeopardize all the others.
“That’s the jist of it,” Linda said. “Pain in the ass.”
“How much are we saving with them for the prenatal vitamins anyway?” I said.
“Folic acid is cheap. It’s the packaging that’s the problem,” she said.
I rubbed my eyes.
“Yeah, I remember. Let me call up a few people. The budget can’t take any more this month, but let’s let them know by week’s end, there’s always a chance they’ll keep us on.” I scratched some notes in my diary. “Was there anything else?”
Linda shook her head. I nodded and saw her out.
I quickly pulled my phone out again.
Kat: Do you know how hard it is to keep a straight face at work when you send me messages like that?
Kat: And I’d feel bad leaving that great hulking thing with you. I’ll take it, just give me a few days to find a space for it. Maybe I can use it as a jungle gym
Mark: Kinky
Kat: Yes, well, I hope you’ve made it sturdy enough, my four-year-old is 100% going to try and climb it
He was still online, but didn’t reply for the next five minutes.
Mark: You have a four-year-old? Shit
I frowned at the screen.
Kat: Shit? Not sure how to take that…
Mark: Oh, please don’t worry, I’m totally fine with it
I stared long and hard at those words.
Kat: Well, I didn’t really ask if you were “fine with it”, although thanks I guess?
Again the reply took a while to come.
Mark: You’re angry
I sighed and flung myself down in my chair.
Kat: I’m not angry. But I do have a child. Anything else I need to apologize for?
I sent the message and instantly regretted it. What was it about this guy that always had me at such a high pitch all the time?
Mark: Hey, no I’m sorry, I’ve offended you now. Can I call?
Kat: I’m busy at work though
Mark: I understand. Hey, I don’t mean to be an idiot, it’s just that I’m not used to dating older women, and I guess it never occurred to me
My ears burned.
Kat: Well, I’m not used to dating men less mature than me either, so I apologize, I expected more
The phone started to buzz and ring in my hands. I hastily picked it up.
“I said I was at work, Mark,” I hissed.
“Hey, you’ve misun
derstood me, can we just talk about this quick?”
I exhaled loudly.
“Sure, I’m sorry, it’s just been a stressful day.”
“Yeah, no doubt. Hey, I’m sorry. I’ve just …kids just kind of freak me out,” he said and laughed nervously. My mouth hung open. I couldn’t believe how adolescent he suddenly sounded.
“Is this …is this some kind of problem?” I asked.
The line was quiet for a while.
“Well, Kat, I’ve never been with anyone with a kid before, that’s all, you just kind of sprung it on me…”
“I didn’t spring anything on you.”
“Hey, calm down, I’m just saying I’m surprised.”
I laughed cynically.
“I’m surprised too. I didn’t take you for the commitment phobic kind…”
“Ouch.”
“I’m sorry, that was mean.
I could hear him breathing.
“Not mean,” he said. “Just kind of hypocritical.”
“Hypocritical?”
“Well… you’re the one who’s divorced, you know? And now you’re stringing along two men without committing to either of them.”
I felt so angry I wanted to throw the phone against the wall.
“I am not stringing anyone along. Jesus.
He laughed drily.
“Is that what you also tell Anthony?”
I hung up. I dropped the phone like it had turned to poison in my hands. I wasn’t mad at him. How could I be, when everything he had said was perfectly true? I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t explain why I had kept Anthony around, waiting in the wings like this. No, I had hung up because I was ashamed. Ashamed because he could see right through me, right through my fear. I was a hypocrite. I was fearful and cowardly and I didn’t have the guts to go for what I wanted.