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Message-ID: <39980asstr$1040469005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Toran <toran29@insightbb.com>
User-Agent: NewsPro/3.3.5
NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 20 Dec 2002 23:10:57 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Her Christmas Gift (M/f, BDSM)
Date: Sat, 21 Dec 2002 06:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

I wrote this one a while back.  Comments are welcome and appreciated.

Toran
http://www.dajungle.com/stories/toran29/

The following is a work of erotic fiction and is the sole property of the 
author.  It contains elements of bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism..


Her Christmas Gift
by Toran 


He puffs on the Macanudo and watches her from the leather chair in the only 
corner of the room not filled in some way with Christmas decorations.  She's 
been tied snugly with the bright ribbons for going on an hour beneath the tree 
and the stress of the firm hogtie had made a mess of her normally perfect 
auburn hair.  He's set the thermostat up a bit to make sure her bare skin 
doesn't get chilled from the floor drafts, and now the little beads of sweat 
stand out on her soft and lustrous skin and run in little rivers here and there.

"I wanted to give you something really special for Christmas, love," she said, 
whether she'd meant it or not wasn't important - she'd said it.  And somewhere, 
the door to his dark and mysterious world had opened up.  She had inadvertently 
presented the opportunity for what would become the best present anyone had 
ever given him.

He looked down into her emerald eyes, sensing as well as seeing her desire.  
But she didn't have in mind what he had.  She'd laughed at his casual mention 
of bondage some weeks ago - and it was still too early in their relationship to 
have the real heart to heart that would pretty much decide whether he wanted to 
continue seeing her.  But this...now this was the perfect way to get her 
'involved' with his world, give her a taste of what he wanted, what he would 
demand of her if she were to stay.

Her gag is slipping from all the drool pooling around her mouth and he wonders 
if it should be changed - but he is more interested in watching her, watching 
how her body responds to the bindings, how her sounds have changed over the 
last hour from angry shrieks behind the big ballgag (hardly a good starter for 
a novice, but this opportunity was rare and he wanted to put her though the 
paces early) to gentle whimpers.  He hardly cares if she knows that he watches 
her.  He's got a pretty good idea that right about now she's in her own world.

"You want to tie me up?"  She glanced away and he saw a blush creeping up her 
cheeks.  She finally gave a little laugh and looked back up into his eyes.  As 
if she could see right through him, see how important this was, she seemed to 
consider it seriously.  "Ok," she finally said, trying hard to make light of it 
- but he knew she was a little scared and that fueled the fire deep inside him 
even more.  "But no funny business."

Her head rears up, blindfolded eyes searching the room and not seeing, and a 
deeper, more guttural grunt comes from somewhere low in her throat - this is 
the second such sound she's made in the last five minutes and he smiles.  She 
is showing promise.

"Red ribbon, huh?"  She batted her eyes and dramatically folded her arms behind 
her, wrists crossed behind her back.  This, of course, pulled the thin silky 
material of her black spaghetti strapped evening dress taut against her breasts 
- she'd decided against a bra, apparently, a fact that had made itself known to 
him almost immediately after he took her coat to the closet.  It was their 
first Christmas, after all, and she had wanted to make a good impression for 
the intimate dinner date at his apartment.  "Not too tight, now," she whispered 
and he thinks that the gag can't come soon enough.

The long guttural noise ends with a frustrated whimper and he sees her thighs 
moving together back and forth, short little movements that can only mean one 
thing.  He puts the cigar into the ashtray and stands quietly.  He doubts she 
would hear him anyway, but he wants this to be perfect.  Walking slowly towards 
her, his hand sliding into his trouser pocket and fingering one of the presents 
he plans to give her, he smiles.  She looks good.  Really good.

"Hey!  That hurts!  You're tying my elbows?"  She started to twist in his grip 
and it took a gentle kiss on her neck and a re-assuring whisper in her ear 
before she quieted enough for him to finish the knot that bound her elbows 
together.  He had the red ballgag in his hands and before she could give him 
some more grief, it was buried in her mouth.  That's when the struggling began 
in earnest and if the gag was buckled too tightly because of all the thrashing, 
it wasn't his fault.

He kneels down beside her and then she does sense him, for she stops all 
movement and nothing save the sound of her jagged breathing fills the room.  
Her body goes off like a stressed spring when he finally lays a hand on her 
thigh, caressing the sweat-sheened flesh there, running a finger along the 
tightly knotted strands of ribbon that bind her knees.  And then he hears it, a 
slow, soft moan, her head lying in a pool of auburn hair.  The moan intensifies 
as his fingers trace a path down her calves and up to her bound ankles, then 
across the rope that spans like a bridge between her feet and her bound wrists. 
 Her hands are cool from the limited circulation, the skin around the tight 
ribbon slightly chafed.  His fingers find the ribbon that pull her wrists tight 
against her ass and snakes between both firm ass-cheeks to crease her pussy, 
hidden from view while she's on her belly.  Hooking a finger under this ribbon, 
he slowly pulls and her reply is a long throaty moan.

He wrapped the ribbon quickly around her knees, then her ankles and at once, 
she realized that too much struggling would get her a quick trip to the floor.  
She wasn't used to having to scream around a ball crammed in her mouth, but she 
gave it her best and it took a sharp crack to her ass to quiet her.  His hand 
slid down and cupped a breast and a nibble on one earlobe got her breath 
caught.  The spaghetti straps were quickly untied and the hand on her breast 
now caressed warm flesh.  She struggled again, but when he firmly pinched her 
nipples she stopped and didn't make another movement until he had her 4" heels 
off and her panties snipped.  Then she realized that this was for real, that 
she was pretty much powerless to stop what he wanted to do to her, and that the 
dinner date had turned into something...different.

He rolls her over and follows the ribbon as it comes through her legs and meets 
the ribbon around her waist.  He pulls this side back and forth and her hips 
move in unison with the ribbon chafing her soaked pussy.  His other hand comes 
up to find a nipple and it doesn't take much to roll it into rock hardness.  
That's when one of the little presents he's had in his pocket comes out.  
Sliding one hand now between her legs and finding the little clit hood, his 
other hand deftly opens the nipple clamp and captures the waiting nipple.  All 
at once, her body arches, her gag stifles a startled scream and her hips buck 
into his hand.  The scream goes on for a long moment, then there is nothing but 
the sound of her labored breathing through her nose and the movement of her 
hips as she grinds into his fingers.

She whined around the gag as her legs were pulled up and tied off to her 
wrists, snugly giving the curve of her calf a nice bowed look, but not tight 
enough to plant her heels in her ass flesh.  There was nothing but grunts as he 
roped the ribbon around and around her waist, over her wrists and finally tying 
off a long end in the center of her back.  A few token thrashes as he threaded 
the end through her legs, tightly snaking between her pussy lips before getting 
knotted at the waist ribbon.  Next, he went to work on her breasts, her eyes 
trying to bore a hole into his - but he never glanced up, never gave her the 
chance to chastise him.  Methodically, he tied her breasts up, with ribbon 
around her torso and around and around each breast until they were tight orbs 
of flesh.

The other nipple clamp sends her off and she's shuddering and whimpering and 
straining against the fingers buried in her pussy.  Then she stiffens and one 
sharp, long wail escapes around her gag.  Her whole body strains against the 
ribbon imprisoning her and in the frozen moment of time, she is ungodly 
beautiful.

Finally, he had pulled out the silk blindfold and delicately slipped it over 
her perfect auburn hair.  Looking into her eyes for the last time he gently 
kissed her cheek and whispering in her ear as the blindfold slid down, he said, 
"I love..."

"...you".  Her breathing slowing down, her eyes a sharp emerald green as he 
slips the blindfold off.  A haze clouds the surface of her half-lidded eyes and 
she squeaks gently.  He moves a hand behind her head and unbuckles the gag.

Pushing the ball out of her mouth with her tongue, she whispers hoarsely, "I 
love you too."  Then it's her lips on his, her tongue deep in his mouth.  He 
slips an arm around her waist and rolls her over onto him.  Tied in a tight 
hogtie, arms and legs useless, she lets her mouth do all the work.  From 
beneath her, he unbuckles his belt and slip-slides his pants down.  Not even 
ribbon can keep her from finding him and he fills her with one powerful thrust, 
his hands sliding over her ass to get her body in tune with his rhythm.

Looking up from beneath the Christmas tree, the layers of brightly colored 
lights and tinsel beautiful from this perspective, he thinks that this is the 
best Christmas ever.

>:)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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