She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. Her body was pinned hard against the wall by his considerable bulk. His right arm had encircled her waist and his left hand was wrapped so tightly in her hair that to struggle would have been futile. He was surprisingly gently but left her in no doubt of his intentions. His mouth wasted no time in devouring hers. All in all, it was fair to say he was more than a little pleased to see her.
Eventually he broke off and stood back to look at her. She was flustered but not so much that she didn’t remembered her special trick of looking up at him seductively over the top of her glasses knowing full well what his reaction would be. “Upstairs” he growled in his gruff voice.
He shrugged off his jacket and rucksack as he entered the room. As he turned round he was pleased to see she had anticipated his next command. She had often joked that they lived in each others head. He liked that thought during their long periods apart. He often wished though he could see even deeper into that mind of hers. He often felt he was merely scratching the surface.
She was already naked before him, her eyes cast demurely to the floor. He noted though, as always, the slightest flicker of defiance as she peered suruptisiously over the frames of her glasses once again. He smiled inwardly as he walked around her and admired her body. How long had it been since he’d gazed at her? Too long he thought to himself, far too damn long.
Bending down he whispered in her ear “Assume the position” which she dutifully did, her knees on the floor, the rest of her body spread over the bed. At her most vulnerable, her most trusting. He ran his hand through his beard as he looked at her. Focus, he thought to himself.
He reached into his rucksack and started to empty the contents. He found at once what he was looking for. A shudder of anticipation ran through her body as she heard the familiar sound of the large curved monochrome blade being withdrawn from it’s sheath. A slight gasp from her lips as the cold steel touched between her shoulders. Not the slightest of movements from her though as his well practised hand drew the blade slowly down the length of her spine. Firmly enough to mark it’s progress but softly enough not to break the skin.
He withdrew the blade and picked up the large coil of rope he’d withdrawn from his bag. He looped the first coils around her shoulders and began working slowly and methodically. He never rushed this stage, preferring to savour each knot, each turn of the rope, binding every part, watching closely as the rope bit into her skin. His mind was whirling into overdrive as his creation took shape. He stopped to check on her, she had her distant dreamy look on her face so he continued. Only when he was finally happy did he stop and stand back to admire his handy work.
He had no idea how much time had passed as he withdrew his homemade flogger and his heavy leather strap from his bag. Time was always an irrelevance and had a way of standing still when they were together. He held the flogger tight in his hand. She seemed to sense what he was doing and gave her ass cheeks a teasing, almost unnoticeable wiggle. He raised the flogger and brought it down twice quickly on his own leg, gauging the feel of the unfamiliar tool on his own skin before he let it loose on his prize trussed up beneath him.
And so he began his rhythm with the flogger, strokes landing and painting a collage of red strokes across her pristine cheeks. Stopping occasionally to check on her reactions which he already knew would be just the ghost of a smile on her full lips. They both knew though that this was only the aperitif and that the main course was still to be served and would be longer and far more drawn out but ultimately more satisfying.
He threw the flogger aside and hefted the heavy leather in his hand, feeling the thick leather between his fingers. He brought it down hard across both cheeks. Her body stiffened and let out a gasp, mostly he knew from the initial surprise. She would never react to the pain, she was too stubborn.
So once again he found his rhythm. Sometimes he would bring down a quick succession of strokes, other times he would pause, let the sting of the stroke subside before delivering a fresh one. Watching with pleasure the vivid red now spreading across her skin. Every so often grabbing a handful of her hair and lifting her head. All the time watching for her almost imperceptible movement that was his cue to continue. The silent communication that often passed between them. Despite being both very much in their own private worlds at that point, still in tune.
Again he had no idea of time but he knew when she had had almost enough. Today wasn’t a day for pushing too far. He stood over her once more, a single bead of sweat rolled off his nose and landed on her cheek. His breathing was starting to return to normal. As he untied her his mind played over this as it always did. He had a sudden urge for a glass of whisky and he’d bet his life she’d be asking for a glass of wine any minute now. The night was young and there was much more fun to be had.