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Message-ID: <44223asstr$1062904203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Toran <toran29@insightbb.com>
User-Agent: NewsPro/3.6.2
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 06 Sep 2003 19:52:45 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Bunny Cage {Toran} (MF, bdsm, nc?)
Date: Sat,  6 Sep 2003 23:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Comments are welcome and appreciated.  Feel free to send to 
toran29@insightbb.com - the spammers will, regardless.

BUNNY CAGE
By Toran
    
    She was up for anything – that was the hold that he had on her.  And he 
knew that he could do whatever he wanted without protest.  She was what some 
may have considered plain looking – short black hair and long slender legs.  
She wasn’t tall by any means, and it was maybe that he towered over her that 
gave him the power to suggest tying her.  But she had beautiful green eyes that 
sizzled and that was what attracted him.  It was after the county fair, their 
fourth or fifth date, and they had made wild and passionate love only the night 
before, lying under the stars on a blanket.  She had come, screaming as the 
buzz of the crickets and cicadas hummed in his ears and he knew that even then, 
he wanted to hurt her and make her scream in pain and torment.
    
    The sight of the farm animals, the cows and goats, caged or tied to their 
pens with rope leashes got him worked up and when he whispered in her ear that 
it would be interesting to have to lay in a cage with no one to tend to you and 
nothing to do, or to stand, lashed to the rail of a wooden pen, she smiled, 
having no idea what was behind the glint in his eye.  He had his arm around her 
then and in front of anyone who had cared to look their way, he snaked his hand 
down and traced a finger around her breast.  She giggled and slapped it away, 
but pressed tighter to his side and he could feel her breath coming faster.
    
    The fairway was lined with people and when he asked her if one of the 
pretty young girls working the lemonade stand would look good with her breasts 
bound tightly, she gave him a quizzical look and wrinkled her nose.  But after 
a moment of staring at the girl she asked him how it was possible to tie up 
breasts.  He leaned into her ear and whispered about anchor ropes that wrapped 
and wrapped until the flesh was hard and bulging - orbs - and nipples that 
would be very sensitive.  She looked at him openly, her eyes distant as she 
tried to imagine that vision and he took the opportunity to brush her nipple, 
quickly so that she wouldn’t get the chance to slap his hand away.  She called 
him a pervert, but she was giggling when she did it.
    
    She wanted cotton candy and she attacked the whipped sugar with giggles and 
moans of pleasure and that had done nothing but fuel the fire inside his belly. 
 He wondered aloud whether there was a point at which cotton candy could be 
wadded up enough to fill the mouth and not dissolve.  She grinned and asked if 
that were a challenge.  He smiled back and said that he would like to feed her 
– would she mind?  She batted her eyes, glancing around the brightly lit and 
packed fairway and he could see the flush rise in her cheeks.  We would make a 
scene, she said, and he had simply taken the cotton candy from her and pulled 
off a few large strands.
    
    Open up, he said, and she obediently opened her mouth and for all the 
world, he wished that it was a ball gag he held in his hand, one that would 
keep her screams to just a muffled moan.  The first wad of cotton candy 
dissolved almost immediately and she reached up to wipe off the stream of red 
sugar from her lips but stopped at his sharp command to be still.  He tore off 
more from the bun and packed it in her mouth and she opened her mouth wider, 
her eyes fixed on his and he knew that when he asked for it, her surrender 
would be quick.  In the end, the wisps of sugar that hadn’t dissolved 
immediately tickled her throat and she got the giggles, pushing his hand away 
and he wondered how she would react when she couldn’t stop him, when he had her 
helpless and there was nothing she could do but endure and accept his torments.
    
    He told her that there were many kinds of things that could go into a 
pretty woman’s mouth to silence her and when she gave him a dirty look, he 
assured her it wasn’t what she was thinking.  She looked at him with a frown 
and he whispered in her ear about balls with straps, and wadded up clothes, and 
silky scarves – many things besides cotton candy and most of them made a woman 
look sexy.  When she asked him why any girl would need something like that to 
be sexy he just smiled and looked deep into her eyes and that had been the 
first ripple of something else between them, something electric and exciting.  
He was leading her to the place that would open her eyes completely, and she 
was just beginning to see that.
    
    She had wanted to see the bunnies, a request that was made when they had 
first arrived, but she was silent and in deep thought as they entered the 
semi-dark tent off the fairway, the one that had rows and rows of shiny metal 
cages.  With no one around, he turned her towards him and kissed her full on 
the lips.  She didn’t pushed him away then, her green eyes open and intense, 
and that was when he pulled her to him, a hand sliding up to cup her breast 
through the cotton shirt and bra, his other hand guiding her waist to him so 
that she was pressed against both his body and the hand that caressed her 
nipple.  She briefly twisted in his arms, a half-hearted resistance, but he 
held her fast.
    
    I’m going to tie you up, he whispered in her ear, her body pressed tightly 
to his and the hand that cupped her breast, and he felt her shudder.
    
    Do you want to be tied up, he asked.  His finger rolled her hard nipple and 
he knew that she was no longer in the rabbit tent at all and that it was his 
body and his fingers and the breath on her neck and the dark and mysterious 
proposition that he had whispered in her ear that was making her heart race in 
her chest.
    
    Answer me.  A gentle voice but the electricity was there.  And power.
    
    She shuddered against him again.  Ok, she whispered.
    
    He nipped at her ear, pulling her hands around behind her so that her body 
was now pressed against his, vulnerable and open.  Would you like to be kept 
and loved, like the bunnies, he asked, and an image of a snake’s forked tongue 
flicking out from between his lips almost caused him to chuckle.
    
    She drew in sharp breath, and he wasn’t sure if it was the nip to her flesh 
or the words that had caused it.  Again he asked, Would you like to be kept in 
a cage, helpless, cared for by your master?
    
    And again, she shuddered and this time she pulled away and looked at him 
intensely, her eyes afire in the darkness of the tent.  Now was when her mind 
had seen the proposition in full, now was when she was being asked directly, 
now was when she had to decide.
    
    She looked around her, at the cages of furry animals lined in a row, at the 
mercy of the will of their keepers, then looked back at him.  And nodded.  He 
smiled and kissed her again, gently, then took her by the hand, out of the tent 
and into the night.
    
    He retraced their path out to the old farmhouse – it had been on the 
expansive back lawn, slightly overgrown with bramble and milkweed that they had 
found a lush patch of grass and made love only the night before.  She didn’t 
smile during the drive and he knew that she was thinking about giving up 
control, giving up her body, surrendering.  He knew that she would balk were he 
to show her what was in the leather bag in the trunk.  She was scared enough.  
It was a romantic fantasy, to be tied in silk scarves and ravaged under the 
moonlight and that was how he would start her.  The thick leather gags and 
heavy straps and clamps and whips would all come later, when she had 
surrendered her body to him and he had made her entirely helpless.
    
    He spread the blanket out on the very same spot as the night before, but 
things were different now.  There was an electricity in the air both nights, 
but tonight was different.  Tonight was about something dark and scary, and 
exciting.  Her intense green eyes watched every move he made as he sat down and 
motioned for her to sit beside him.  She glanced up at the full moon, at the 
stars beyond, then at the dark countryside that was filled only with crickets 
and cicadas and this electricity that was slowly binding her will to his.  Off 
in the distance, very far away, the brightly lit Ferris wheel slowly revolved.
    
    She started to sit down beside him but was lifted into a kneeling position 
and he rose behind her, his hands lightly on her shoulders, fingers caressing 
her neck.  She was trembling, and each stroke on her flesh seemed to burn.  She 
absently played with her hands in her lap and he knew that she was wondering 
what he would make her do – how would it begin.
    
    He knelt behind her and gently pulled her hands behind her back.  Brushing 
away her jet black hair, he whispered in her ear, are you afraid?  Then he 
kissed her and she arched her back, her shoulders pressing into his chest.  Her 
hands fidgeted in his, her wrists crossed behind her back, held only by the 
gentle pressure of his fingers encircling her flesh.
    
    She shook her head, no, and he sensed that this was it for her – if he 
didn’t tie her now she would back away, giggling, and that would be the end of 
it.  Now, the door was open and she was ready to step hesitantly through.
    
    He slipped the silk scarf around her wrists and knotted it tightly – she 
wouldn’t know a tight knot from a loose knot and he needed to make sure she 
wouldn’t break free.  She sighed, a noise that was swallowed up by the 
sing-song of the crickets and then moaned as he kissed her neck, then suckled 
her earlobe.  His arms encircled her body from behind, her hands trapped behind 
her, and he felt her breasts through the cotton shirt – only last night had she 
given him permission to touch and take pleasure from her body freely.  Tonight 
he had taken it with the scarf tied about her wrists, if only symbolically, and 
she could do nothing but accept what his hands wanted to do to her.
    
    He kneaded the soft flesh, his fingernails tracing the outline of her bra 
and the seams of her shirt, and then, with a quick and decisive motion, ripped 
her shirt open, the buttons popping and flying away into the night.  She cried 
out then, but he was around and in front of her and his mouth silenced hers and 
as he kissed her, roughly, her eyes searched his and eventually her struggles 
quieted and gave way to the soft probing of his tongue.  He raised her from her 
knees so that she was held by his shoulders, her ruined shirt falling down over 
her shoulders, her skin hot and flushed in the silver moonlight.  
    
    His mouth walked down her neck and kissed the bulging flesh above her bra 
and she moaned, closing her eyes.  One hand crept down her belly to the button 
at the top of her jeans and deftly popped it open, while the other dealt with 
the zipper.  And then it was only her silky white bra and panties that 
protected her secret flesh from the cool summer night breeze.  He held her 
close to him, her body trembling, her lips kissing his neck, her hands bound 
behind her and he knew that it was time.
    
    With one quick motion, he savagely pulled at her bra, wrenching the 
fasteners in two.  Seconds later her panties lay in a tangle on the ground 
beside her knees.  She started to protest, but the wadded scarf that came out 
of his pocket silenced that.  She tried to get to her feet but with her hands 
lost behind her, she only toppled forward into his arms.  He scooped her up, 
careful to keep her kicking feet away from his face, and carried her into the 
farmhouse where more surprises awaited her.
    
    When he re-emerged from the shadows of what had been the front porch of the 
old wooden farmhouse, he left a thoroughly tied naked girl, roped up into a 
tight ball, on the cool limestone floor of the dark basement.  He paused, 
listening to the crickets and cicadas, ear cocked for a moan or muffled scream 
or anything that gave away the helpless girl inside.  But the basement walls 
were stone and there was no one for miles anyway.  As he walked to the trunk to 
retrieve the remainder of his toys, he wondered what could be going through her 
head right now.  Tied, and gagged and left in the dark in the cold and silent 
basement of an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.  The cage would 
come later, when he could get a rental truck and move it out here.  But for 
now, rope would have to do.
    
    What were those intense and beautiful eyes looking at, blindly searching 
the darkness – did she hear a rat skitter close by?  Flesh bound, body 
helpless, she was at the mercy of her master.  Would she like it?  Probably not 
– at least not right away.  Bunnies never did.

END


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