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From: daftwader@aol.com (DaftWader)
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Subject: {ASSM} Dark Games - M/Ff (light BDSM - no sex)
Date: Mon, 10 Apr 2000 19:10:07 -0400
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April adventures - Dark Games
Dark Games?
She was playing a game in the darkness, splashing her hand in the pool. She
listened to the gentle response of the cool water, lapping against the cement
poolside and echoing around the high wooden beams of the room. She looked out
at the ruins of the West wing of the castle that had been burnt down by the
mysterious lady of the house in an incendiary fury the previous night.
She thanked her stars that she had been with him in the main building well away
from the now destroyed wing, carousing until the early hours. She remembered
slipping into a gentle doze warmed by the residue of passion, the taste of the
brandy and cream mixed in her glass and the fact that exposed as she was in her
nakedness, she was protected, loved and secure in the safety of his tender care
and quiet whispered reassurances.
Perhaps she had strayed for a while, wandering round the grounds to check on
the workings of the place, but she had known and he had known that one day soon
she would be back to submit to his care. Looking down to one side at the
fading welt of the cane on her flanks, she remembered again that afternoon.
She loved the memory of the warm sun coming through the window as she lay
obediently over the arm of the chair, awaiting the first stroke of that tender
care to her own behind......
.......And behind the curtains it was she who saw the flames first, pointing at
them aghast through the balcony window. He turned and looked at the raging
fires. He approached the window in a daze and looked down. He opened the
windows, filling the room with shouts and cries and smoke. She shivered in
recollection as he leant over the balcony and looked down at the unhappy,
slightly dishevelled figure on the lawn.
"Milady - you have gone just a little far this time," he shouted down.
"It's my wing and I shall do as I please with it, Milord."
"Certainly it was your wing," he said laconically.
"You stop that sneering tone at once you hear," she yelled up at him, as dark
figures ran to and from the lake in a vain attempt to save the wing. "I shall
have a party tomorrow night to assuage my hurt feelings."
"I fear that you will be the ruination of this famed chateau and my treasury,
my dear lady," he sighed.
"Well," Milady shouted up and her foot could be seen tapping irritatedly on the
path that surrounded lawn.
"Yes, all right, I concede that we shall have a party to celebrate the
rebuilding of your wing."
"I shall go find a foundation stone then," Milady smiled for the first time and
he visibly relaxed.
"Well, that's what comes of making allusions to Caliphigian buttocks, you
horrible man," the girl whispered in her ear, having crept up behind him.
"Indeed........ ?"
"Indeed, and Milord, I have taught the man servant a Pavlovian response to any
reference to voluptuous rumps or fat arses for that matter."
"Which would be?"
"To box your ears of course, Milord," she giggled and slipped from the balcony
to join Milady laughing below.
"But I like voluptuous rumps," he said petulantly, spanking at the air, as she
escaped from him.
"Yes, we know that," the women laughed reading his lips and thinking that
perhaps in the midst of the party they would allow him a glimpse of one or
other or both of them, leaning down further and breathed in deeply, taking in
the chlorinated atmosphere of the pool area...........
.......And each of them thought of themselves beneath.......
......A beam of moonlight shimmered across the water and she watched the light
ripple across the water that she had disturbed. If she had not been there then
all would have been quiet and still, but she had disturbed that perfect moonlit
silence. She almost regretted doing so, but equally her gesture had said that
she was there and that in a way she was for once in charge.
Leaning even further over the water, risking a sudden chilly emersion, she felt
her dress tug at the back of her thighs. It was like the first gesture of an
impatient lover taking her from behind would tug it up to reveal the columns of
her naked thighs surmounting the contrasting stockings and the still to be
revealed panties. The idea of cool fingers on her warm thighs made her
tremble.
She reached up and hugged the straps of her dress as if seeking reassurance.
The force of her gesture crushed her velvet clad breasts under her folded arms.
She sat back and knelt there, staring out at the empty water in a silent act
of worship.
She shook her head slowly and reached up to unclip her hair, letting it fall
down the nape of her neck to her shoulders. She shook her head again and felt
the reassuring whip of dry curls against her cheeks and her neck. Closing her
eyes she could imagine a glove being stroked down her cheek, followed by the
unexpected slap of kid leather against her pliant flesh. She loved the thought
and squeezed her legs together tightly to try to hold onto the eroticism of
that image if only for an added moment.
Sitting up, she looked around in the darkness, listening intensely and then
slid her hand between her thighs, before squeezing them together again. It
felt so reassuring to press her hand between the heat of her legs, the damp
palm against the enveloping velvet of her little black dress. She sighed to
herself and wondered about a midnight swim. It would feel marvellous to slip
into the water naked and to shiver in the cool water, her flesh shimmering
under the moonlight as she exercised her aching muscles.
Wouldn't it be funny if the party spilled into the room while she swam? The
darkness would suddenly evaporate as the lights were switched on. The silence
would vanish under the hum of the generators and the buzz of conversation as
couples drifted onto the patio to watch the cool water, just as she was doing
now. She might be caught completely bare with only the water and her hands to
cover her modesty. Would the men stare at her as their partners pulled them
away, glancing at her with contempt mixed with lust?
Loving the idea from its inception in her wicked mind she pressed her hand into
the apex of her thighs and pulled her skirt up so that her finger were cupping
her silky panties, rubbing and squeezing, touching and teasing. She wanted to
be ready.........ready for what, though? She was unsure but she was not going
to let that uncertainty interfere with her private pleasures.
She stroked herself more vigorously and the fabric became moist under her
incessant touching. Did she dare pull the fabric to one side and expose
herself? Would she reveal herself to the world, just as she could do in that
pool if the opportunity allowed?
Oh! The shameful delight of such a public exposure.
Oh! The possibility of such dark games.
DW
c4/00
Be kind.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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