Sarah and Stephen’s story began here
Sarah tried not to feel silly, tied to door. Even with the curtains pulled, the bright afternoon sunlight lent a cheery air to the sitting room, an atmosphere she’d tried to cultivate in her home but one which didn’t exactly help her enter a submissive frame of mind. The dusk and candle light during Stephen’s last visit had been more conducive, though perhaps a bit too much so. Sarah shuddered at the memory of the experience. Powerful, though far more than she had been prepared for.
She tried to focus on Stephen’s presence, on how happy she was that he had returned. It had been far too long since his first visit, and had it not been for the weekly phone calls, the short but almost texts from him, she’d have thought he had given up on her after the first disaster. Not that his previous visit had been all bad, but they had both learned to take things a bit more slowly- and a bit more soberly.
The intensity and terror, undesirable though it might have been, had at least made it easier to tap into her submission than the ridiculous feelings she now had, bound naked in her own sitting room.
Closing her eyes helped; it shut out the view of the bedazzled cuffs Stephen had fastened to her wrists. They were just as hard to take seriously as the pink alternatives he had shown her, though the look in his eyes, the touch of his hands as he had applied them had silenced her. She tried to focus on that memory as she waited for Stephen to find whatever it was he was rooting for behind her. She also tried very hard not to pull on the bindings. They had felt flimsy and fake, and Sarah doubted they would withstand any real struggling. She only had slightly more confidence in the structural integrity of the doorframe.
Sarah had watched skeptically as Stephen had prepared the ropes to hold her. After a cursory search of her apartment, he’d identified the sitting room door as the most suitable place to bind her if she wished to use restraints. Sarah had been eager to try the new practice, though hadn’t anticipated the comic potential of a dominant wrestling a few metres of rope and a doorframe into something capable of holding her in place.
She had to admit it was doing a decent job, and had been more than capable of preventing her from relieving the itch on her nose. After a few moments of pulling against the ropes, she settled with rubbing it against a groove on the door, feeling more ridiculous by the moment.
As she waited, she tried to forget these inconvenient realities and build a more powerful narrative in her head, one in which she was a helpless captive about to be held to account for some terrible misdeed.
The flogging helped with that creative process. The first stroke caught her by surprise, her mind having wandered off. She was brought back to reality as she started, knocking her head painfully against the door. The shock quickly gave way to the stinging burn, which reignited the story she’d been telling herself. From that moment on, her mind was split, half damsel in distress suffering in the hands of an evil torturer, half inexperienced bottom getting her first taste of a range of new implements.
He used several on her, switching every few strokes. Sarah appreciated the chance to sample the variety, though found it hard to tell the difference between most of them- other than two which stood out in unique ways. There was what she could only describe as the thwicker. It felt like being dusted with a paintbrush- tiny, ineffectual strokes that only stung enough to elicit a giggle which she had utterly failed to choke down. At least the bubbling outburst had brought an early end to that particular implement, as Stephen wordlessly agreed that this was not the effect they were looking for.
Then there was the thudder. Even without looking, even only having had a quick peek at his arsenal before they began, she knew which this must be. Heavy and black, the implement had captured her attention the first time he had displayed his collection, and its use proved just as satisfying as she had imagined. He stroked her shoulders repeatedly, a steady ache building pleasantly, stopping just before it became difficult to bear, just when her squirming began to truly test the ties.
The lashing stopped, and Sarah felt a warm firm presence behind her, gently pressing her into the door as it stilled her and calmed the sting in her back and bottom.
“I think you have had enough for now,” Stephen told her softly, holding her more surely with the soft pressure of his body than the ropes ever could. Sarah wanted to argue, wanted it to continue, wanted more, but found herself unable to speak, utterly content to rest here, trapped under him.
All too soon, she felt him reach up to undo the cuffs, and she found herself somewhat saddened to feel them release her. He seemed to sense her hesitation, and held her in place after the ropes had been discarded, allowing her to slowly readjust to the freedom as he gently massaged her hands, warming her icy fingers with his own.
“What do you think? It’s different being tied, is it not?” Stephen asked, smiling down at her as he pulled her into a proper hug.
“Yes,” Sarah replied. “Thank you. I’m glad we tried it.” She almost said she was glad that it hadn’t ended in tears, as it had last time, but caught herself. Was she? It had been less intense, which while that left her with more of her senses with which to reflect on the experience it also left her feeling a bit hollow, as if she had missed something.
“It was nice,” she finally settled on saying. “The heavy one, that was wonderful.”
“I thought you’d like that,” Stephen replied. “And what about the scenario, or lack thereof. Did you prefer that to the role play we did last time?”
Sarah paused, trying to assemble a reply. “I’m not sure. It was different. Less intense. I think I like having a reason for the pain, even a contrived one, though going without made sense this time. Easier to focus on the sensations and the experience in itself.”
“We could try a bit of role play as well if you like,” Stephen offered, smiling wickedly. “Are you up for it?”
Sarah hardly paused at all. The flogging had left her sore, but the sting was quickly fading. “Absolutely! Do you want me to get changed?”
“You’ll be fine as you are, I have something in mind. Give me a few minutes to prepare.”
Sarah grinned as she turned to leave, eager to see what else was in store.
To be continued
Acknowledging Imperfection 