I fold the note you most recently gave me and slide it into the box with the others.  You and I have come to a point in our relationship that you’re asking me for the things you want and need from me instead of greedily accepting what I give you.  Truth be told, you’ve come much further than I had ever imagined you would when we first started playing together. Your masochistic side is heavier than my sadistic one and although we don’t struggle there, it’s come to where I sometimes allow you to have more control over how we play than others might agree to.  The notes you present me give us a basis on which we can have time together based upon many of your ideas instead of my own. There was a stage neither of us would have allowed that, even for a night, but we’ve come along to a place in which we have an exchange of power rather than total control. The way you think has expanded me in every way and we’ve grown together a lot. 

For instance, the night before last was an utterly amazing display in which I took photos of you cuffed with ropes wound through a bolt in the ceiling of my bedroom.  It was your idea to install the hardware there, not my own. We’ve made great use of it since and by the end of the evening you looked nothing less than exquisite; small trails of blood running down your back from the collision of my leather on your back, your body stretched to capacity with your feet barely on the floor.  Your arms looking so very long stretched over your head and the way your ribs were pronounced through your skin. You are more into the physical side of these exchanges while I’m more intensely into the mental side. I wanted to break you down into tiny pieces in your head and gather them up, make them good as new, put each back where it belongs and make you whole again.  As cliché as it sounds, you need to feel pain to know you’re alive. You need it to sustain yourself from one week to the next; therefore I need it as well.  So as I brought you down and laid you beside me, you were as gorgeous as ever. Your breathing remained rapid and irregular for a long time while we lay next to each other.  This is exactly what you wanted; though your note to me simply read “i’ve been holding back. please bring me back to you, sir.” I read between the lines well enough after this long to hear everything you want, including what you don’t even realize you desire.  

Tonight I’ll write you a note of my own.  Directions on which I already know you will follow without asking a single thing. We both know that you know better than that. Your trust in me isn’t even questioned any longer.  You’ve got a safe word but we both know you’ll never use it. What I write you tonight is a step-by-step plan of exactly what I expect of you for the next three days.

You and I have been planning this weekend together for a very long time. We continue to have these amazing visits together in the interim.  I truly love every moment of it. I’m sad that this trip is the last we have planned together. Whether that changes or not is all up to you. It’s certainly a break-up of the worst kind. Does it hurt more when it’s planned?  Never have I been one to appeal to the emotional side of myself but you’re bringing it out in me lately. I’m not ready to be apart from you but you’ve made this decision and I’m trying to be okay with it.  

I move from room to room gathering whatever I think we may need for the weekend.  I’ve got bags packed for us both and another with all of our “favorite” things we’ve come to love. I made sure I have the flogger I bought you for Christmas 2 years ago that was handcrafted by another player I know from the internet and the cane we bought together on a quick trip last summer.  With the bags by the door, I try to relax and not think too much. A couple shots of one of those guys – Jack or Jim or Johnny, help that progress. 

When night falls and the new day begins I put our bags in the car and head to your apartment.  I know you’ve followed the outline I’ve given you and although you aren’t exactly expecting me, I know you’ll be prepared exactly as planned.  Opening the door I see immediately that you’ve been doing precisely as I ask. I head for your bedroom and stand over you, watching you sleep for a long moment.  Might this be one of the last times? I can’t help but think about never having you again; never tasting the fluids of sweat or blood or tears from you again, never landing a quirt on those shoulders, smelling your scent or having you blow me while I drive.  I think of the time spent covered in sweat and sliding against each other and of the noises you make when you’ve been pleased. I push those thoughts from my head; too many distractions now will cloud how hard you want to play. 

I wake you roughly pulling your arms behind your back to be cuffed and then sliding a black cloth hood over your head.  I can feel how disoriented you are when I pull you off the bed and you can only stand beside it with a wobble. You’re dressed as I instructed and I rush you through the bedroom door then the living room and out into the waiting night. It takes a lot for me to keep you in a straight line to the car while you keep losing your footing from lack of sight and sleep. The seat in the car is laid back and I push you down onto it, slam the door and get in.  You don’t make a lot of noise because I’m sure you know what’s happening but I don’t need neighbors or cops out seeing us together like this.  

I’ve arranged for us to stay at a good friend’s house who will allow us the use of his space.  He’s making a trip across country so we’ll be alone after the first night. There’s nothing we could possibly need that won’t be provided. 

You’re moving around in the seat beside me uncomfortably and I yell at you to knock it off.  I don’t need you attracting the cops, not with all the stuff we have in the car. Jail isn’t the desired outcome from this weekend.  I know you’ll settle in for the ride soon enough. I’m really just hoping that you fall back to sleep quickly so I can think. I want your weekend to be exactly what you asked for and I need more time to think out the details. 

A hundred miles an hour and my brain this going about that fast too.  Reminiscing time we’ve spent together sends me back to my birthday a couple years ago when you wrapped yourself up in saran wrap from head to toe.  I laughed so hard when I saw you & I had a great time cutting holes in all the right places to fuck you through and how sexy you were to unwrap little by little.  Your inventive creativeness was a draw for me from the moment we met. Whilst we were still only friends on a platonic level I would hear you speak of the things you came up with to please your lovers and occasionally felt a twinge of jealousy.  I always wanted you for myself instead. Not many people go to the lengths you do to keep someone happy and satisfied. You’ve allowed me into every part of you; your day-to-day life, your mind, your family and your finances. You hold nothing back from me.  You’ve allowed me to touch you so very gently and then in the next moment slam you into the wall and draw blood. There’s no part of your body I haven’t felt with my hands and my mouth and my cock. You leave yourself open to me in every respect and in a sense I do the same.  There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And here we are.  

Do you remember the time you finally allowed me to put my hand inside of you?  You had claimed to be so adamantly against it but it didn’t take much coercion for you to see it my way.  I had warned you that I always want what I can’t have and that saying “no” only makes it hotter for me. That only makes me want to have you more, to try harder to persuade you into making the things I want into the things you need.   The note you wrote me right before that had read “make me want something I’ve never wanted, please, sir” I had set you up that night by keeping you as relaxed as possible.  So many of our nights together are spent in a hurried frenzy of activity.  Our nights are punctuated by screams and the sounds of brutal beatings that send others to prison.  Not in my house. In my house those sounds mean you’ll return to me again soon, after you’ve begun to heal from the current visit.  That night, though, I ran you a bath and put candles out for the ambience instead of the melting wax. I let you drink a little which we both know is a hard limit of mine, something I very rarely allow.  You knew something was going on when there was no turn of events when we went to bed together. No sudden shift of roughness, no face plants into the wall or directions barked from behind you. Instead, I started to go down on you, teasing you close to orgasm and then relenting.  You had been so scared it would hurt, that there would be no space for me and each time you came closer to getting off you opened up to me more. You would throw your head back with your eyes closed and make these guttural noises of mass frustration that amused me. I placed three fingers inside of you, pushing in as deeply as I could get them but was still careful not to allow you to come.  Once I was four fingers deep and starting to get my hand in, you suddenly freaked out and started to move up the bed to get away, remember? I could tell that you were more nervous because you knew what was happening. But, in the end we did make it and you felt it was a great experience. I had molded my hand to form fit you like a glove and we carried on until you came over and over again in waves.  You could barely walk that night but two weekends later you were practically begging for me to do it again. I’ve learned to read you. You crave intimacy at the most exaggerated level; even if that means you have to hurt to get there. You get off on the power struggle and the push/pull that happens between us. No one else can give that to you quite like me.   

When we exit the highway you begin to rouse from the light sleep you had settled into and I push you back onto the seat gently so you can’t be seen.  It’s so early in the morning I don’t think we’ll be seen but I need to be assured of it.  After fueling the car I go inside to get water while keeping a close eye the car, whose passenger seat appears empty.  Once back on the road I pull the bag off your head so you can get a moment of air and drink some water. It’s been a few hours since we left and your cooperation is silently appreciated.  

Back on track now my mind starts to wander again.  I remember one time at home when I kept you as deprived of all your senses as I could.  You were restrained to our bed for an entire day while I controlled your every movement.  I used a wide spreader bar to keep your legs at the furthest width I thought you could stand for a long period.  Your hands were cuffed with leather so the metal wouldn’t take its toll on you and then you were blindfolded. I kept earplugs in your ears and made sure the lights stayed out so you couldn’t tell from residual light if it were day or night.  At one point I had gone to the bedside and slowly and meticulously shaved every inch of you. The squirming beneath my hands was great to watch as I held down each part of your body before removing every hair off it. Afterward, I got you up to shower, leaving you without your vision in the pitch black restroom.  I left you cuffed behind your back while bathing and I washed you from head to toe. The time must’ve seemed to tick on forever that day and your only complaint was when you had to use the restroom. I left you laying there for another couple hours after that, fucking you repeatedly with my cock and my fingers and my mouth. I took your blanket away and made you as cold and uncomfortable as I could.  When I finally let you up to go to the restroom you were claiming that you “couldn’t go”. About the time I was going to tie you back down you wised up and got it out of your system. Laying there that day – or was it night? – I learned some of your favorite moves, as well as some of your least. I poured hot wax along the length of your body from your neck, down your breasts, over your stomach and around that sensitive area at the top of your thigh.  I tried not to show my amusement while you wiggled around underneath it, not knowing whether you enjoyed it or not.  When I climbed on top of you the pieces of wax broke apart and stuck to me as I fucked you. After I turned you over, I made sure to leave numerous perfect indentions of my teeth on your back.  Biting into you in all of my favorite places is one of the sexiest things to me. Between the close contact and the possibility of releasing your blood it just gets me going every time. You would breathe in sharply as I tried not to take a part of you with me.  Your shoulder blades wore those bruises for weeks when I was done with you.  

The bruises from that night led me to recall another time we had together; right before Christmas it seems, because you were about to see your family.  I was usually better at planning things but for some reason you were acting out that night and not following any directions so we got into it. You seemed to be acting intentionally bratty and sarcastic so I tied you to your bed and beat you with a cane until you were crying and begging me to stop.  I hit you time after time in stripes across your thighs and ass. You’re a strong woman and when you didn’t break I started on your back with a thinner cane that cuts through your skin easier. Even after you were bleeding all the way to the sheets on your bed you wouldn’t apologize for being such a fucking little bitch.  I continued to repetitively space out perfectly wielded stripes along the length of your body. By the time I reached your shoulders you had said you were sorry 20 times. You had a pool of saliva on your pillow that intersected with the abundance of tears. If you had used your safe word I might’ve felt bad but you certainly knew you could stop what happens between us at any time if you chose to.  You didn’t do it and I finished you off by my making you take me in your ass.  The sight of the blood that had trickled down the sides of your back and stained the sheets was enough to promptly send me over the edge.  I had left you tied to the bed until it was time to eat later that night. After dinner, I tied you up sitting at the kitchen table with your arms behind your back and your feet fixed to the legs of the chair.  When we were done we shared a cigarette with me holding it to your lips for each drag. You looked so exhausted by night time that I left you tied to the chair and went to bed without you.  

I’m starting to doze off while driving so we stop in the next town for gas and food.  I remove the hood and let you go into the store while I check out the car. You look over your shoulder as you pull the door to the store open and your eyes are sparkling that way they do, so sexy.  We don’t have much further to travel and I’m in a hurry to get back on the road. When you return I hustle you back into the car for the last couple hours of the drive. You look quite peaceful in the passenger’s seat but I know your head is thinking just as quickly as mine.  I lull myself back into the rhythm of the drive and space out as much as I can until we begin to pass signs signaling that the exit is approaching. 

GPS coordinates get me to my buddy’s house without a problem.  You’re moving around on my right side, probably knowing that we’re off the interstate and arriving soon.  I was careful to set forth all the rules for this first night since my buddy will still be in the house with us until tomorrow.  He and I have only met a few times but are closer than one would think from talking online. You’ve been instructed to follow every request or demand of him as you would with me.  If you get out of line he’s been given permission to punish you in whatever way he sees fit. This is his house, regardless of whether he’ll be here or not so until he leaves, you’re his as well as mine.  His girl will also be there for the night and I expect you’ll take cues from her and behave as well as you would at home.  

I bring you to the door and take the hood off you before ringing the bell.  A tall, thin, blond female with the palest skin I’ve ever seen answers the door and opens it with a barely perceptible nod. She makes no eye contact with either of us as she pulls it open and drops her eyes to the floor.  She looks to be in her mid twenties and wears a black collar with a single D ring around her neck. Both wrists have matching leather cuffs on them with closed loop rings on them. We pass beside her on our way in and she closes the door before asking us to follow to a living area off to the side of the foyer.  We’re seated in a large great room with vaulted ceilings and a mix of collectibles. Some of the knick knacks here seem to be antique and others are obviously intended to look that way but are failing. There are also not so subtle signs that we’re in the midst of other perverts, such as the collection of glass dildos lined up on a side table like soldiers or the book on the coffee table that appears to be a pictorial book of BDSM images.  We each stand when the blond returns with my buddy right behind. We exchange introductions and Jake requests me to follow to another room.  

     “Baby, follow along and behave.  I’ll find you again shortly.” I instruct and the two of you leave with only a nod to each of us.  We both stand in the doorway as the two of you walk past us.  

     “She’s hot, Matt.” Then adds “I don’t get what you guys are doing here exactly” He tells me as you walk by.  I readily agree and follow him outside as he leads the way.

     “We just want to have one last weekend together that we’ll never forget”.  I further explain to him that you’ve decided to move out of state to follow a job you’ve wanted for a very long time.  As if the promotion isn’t enough, you’ll be housed by the company and given a car. They’re taking care of your every need; instead of me. 

We walk together and talk like old friends for a while before being greeted by his girl with a wave from the main house.  He leads me back for dinner which was prepared by the two of you and then drinks in the great room afterward. I don’t see much of you during the evening as the two of you stay in the kitchen, only surfacing to clear glasses or empty ashtrays.  Jake offers to show us to the space we’ll be staying in, which is adjacent to the main house and doubles as their play area.  

Once inside we’re greeted by every toy imaginable clinging to every surface of the room.  A St. Andrew’s Cross in the corner attracts my attention right away as does a large steel cage that looks like something you would buy from a pet store.  There are rows of perfectly hung floggers and cats on one wall. Paddles and canes in a multitude of thicknesses and lengths on another. Restraints of every variety are noted and a sling is centered in the triangle of one corner.  The center of attraction, though, seems to be a table in the middle of the room. At first glance I think it’s a set-up of a dentist’s chair but then realize it doubles as a gynecological table, neither of which are fetishes that I, personally, have never been attracted to.  I do like the style of any man that can procure such things for his fun. He wasn’t fucking with me when he said he has everything we could want. 

There is a small separation between this space and an adjoining sleeping area.  The atmosphere in there is somewhat warmer and decorated in navy blue and black with some red highlights.  The focus is a huge four-poster bed that appears to be rising out of the floor with 3 stairs leading up to it on all four sides.  There are mirrors everywhere, including the ceiling. What appears to be a pull-out sofa is next to a couple of dressers against a wall and on another stands a single closet flanked by a large LCD flat screen.  A door closed leads to what I imagine is a restroom.

Jake says he’ll bring our bags to us in a while and turns to leave.  We each thank him and he heads up the stairs and back to the main house.  On his exit I’ve got you by the wrist immediately and turn you to face me.  I’m holding your arm so tight I can feel your pulse beating through your skin.  We begin to kiss; rough, fast, raw, unrestrained. That’s also about the same rate I get you out of your clothes and pull you into the bedroom.  I push you backward onto the bed so hard I’m momentarily surprised. With one hand I unbutton my 501’s, yank the side and hear each button come loose.  We’ve only been alone a couple of minutes before I’m inside you. You’re already slick with wetness from the car ride and anticipation so I take advantage of it by burying myself as deep within you as I can get.  I don’t waste any time pumping in and out of you with some quickness just go work toward getting off. It’s not your turn yet so when you start grasping at the comforter on top of the bed I know you’re getting close.  I warn you not to come yet and your face registers a fleeting moment of disappointment. I want you to have an extraordinary amount of pleasure this weekend but we both know that comes from more than getting off. I smack you across the face; more for the emphasis, less for the pain.  I see you struggling to take deep breaths while I fuck you relentlessly. I hear the door to the next room open with a click and know we’ve just been walked in on but I was too close to care. As soon as I get off I lean down on one arm while shoving my dick back in my jeans. A glance over my shoulder reveals the intruder as Jake, who has chosen now to drop off our bags.  I button up part way and turn to him, leaving you exposed and open to his gaze. He looks between each of us and I nod for him to come over.  

     “You want a turn?  Seems it’s the least we could do for ya after lettin’ us stay here and all.  She don’t mind.” I turn to look at you and remark, “Do ya?” I don’t give you an option to answer or respond.  You start to cover yourself and try to get up while looking back and forth between him and me quickly. I can see by the look you have that if you could make it past the bedroom door, you would.  You should know better than to be so rude to our host so I push you down before you can gain enough momentum to stand. I can hear Jake behind me when he drops his fly and I move around the stairs at the bedside so I’m at your head.  I grab each of your arms and hold them down into the soft plushy comforter. 

     “You fucking knock that shit off!” I tell you loudly as you wiggle about.  Jake gets his dick wet with his own spit and moves in with it pointed at you like a missile.  Natural lubrication is one of the only things silicone cocks don’t provide. You’re pushing hard against me, actually moving me backwards a bit and I lean all my weight into you, holding you down.  You’re looking up at me and begging me not to let this happen. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want, sir”, you keep saying. Jake is already inside you plunging away quickly and purposefully. I cast my eyes solely on you so it doesn’t appear as though I’m staring at him while he’s having his way with you.  You’ve become somewhat resigned after a few minutes and I’d noticed both hands are purple with lack of oxygen so I release the tension on your wrists just slightly. When he vibrates both of us with his orgasm I look to him in time to see him half on top of you and half leaning onto the bed. You look relieved that it’s over until he asks if we can flip you over.  I’m happy to oblige another round for my good friend here but you have an expression that I can’t quite read. When I let go of your hands, you slowly turn over on your own. Jake climbs onto the bed with you and roughly pulls your hips up to meet him, forcing you on to your elbows and knees. I glance up to see him stroking his long dick with more saliva like he’s owned it for 30 years.  He moves your legs apart with his knees and I feel you start to become unsteady under my hands on your shoulders. By the time I realize he’s fucking you in the ass you’re starting to whine really quietly and are leaning heavily into me as if you can get further away from him. You’re a tough girl, you’ll take whatever we can give you. I get my cock out again and grab you by the hair to get your full attention.  I wrap my fingers in it and push myself into your mouth. You always look so sexy sucking my dick and the tears you’re now shedding make it even better. He and I are both filling you balls deep in each hole while you just try to maintain one position. When I let your hair go you try harder to please me by sneaking your fingers into me. Even though I loathe the idea of you fucking me like this, it really does get me off.  I rock back and forth on your fingers as you push them into me as far as they’ll go. I didn’t really need any further encouragement and start pushing your face down my shaft from the back of your head for leverage as I come. You’re on your hands now and pushing back towards his prick when I warn you sternly not to even think of getting off with another man. Before I’m even packed back into my jeans I hear you moaning but you think you can disguise the fact that you’ve gotten off on this by tweaking it from your usual sounds.  

When he’s done, which is immediately next in line after you and I, he zips up, gives me a nod and a quick thanks.  He says nothing to you and leaves you lying in a wet pile on the bed. As he turns to leave my attention is right back to you.

     “Did you just let another man fuck you and then like it so fucking much you couldn’t control yourself?”  I’ve got you by the hair again and am pulling you back to your knees.  

     “You fucking filthy whore!” I’m yelling now but am trying to keep it down in case he hasn’t let himself out yet.  I half drag you from the bed while you try to get your feet under you and take you to the other room. Without letting go of your hair I bend down, dragging you with me by force.  I fiddle with the latch for a moment and then push you forward into the cage.  

     “You fucking disgusting, dirty slut.  If I knew any man on Earth could make you come I’d have given you back to them a long time ago!”  By now you’re coming to your senses and begin to plead with me not only to keep you out of the cage but also trying to explain that you got off on fucking me, not him.  I don’t listen to your excuses but rather glare at you a moment and leave the room.  

After washing up real quick I blaze past you and out the door.  I smile as I head to the main house at the way you were looking at me as I left.  This combination of disbelief and confusion was all over you. I eat dinner with Jake in the dining room while his girl, whatever her name may be, lingers about in the kitchen.  We talk about the scene in his area and he encourages me to think of moving.  I tell him that I’ll think about it but knowing I’m not moving any time soon. We talk a lot about travel and where we’ve been in the past and would like to return to.  He tells me where they’re headed early in the morning and that they’re going to crash out early. I thank him again for having us stay here and we part ways. “Tall and blonde” has kindly sent me with a plate for you covered in aluminum foil and I thank her as well.  

When I get back to our space I put your plate of food into the cage with you and latch the door without speaking.  I head in to watch the hockey game on TV and when I emerge 3 hours later you’re laying on the bottom curled into yourself trying to stay as comfortable as you can.  I ask you if you want a blanket and what you think you can do to earn it. It’s getting cold and you’ve been undressed for hours now. The blowjob you give is well worth it and I leave you alone again, this time with the lights out.  At least you earned your blanket.

I return to find you in essentially the same position as you were an hour ago so I leave the door to the cage open while I go sit on the couch.  The light from the side room is bright enough to see plenty and you look out at me, unsure if you should stay there or come to me. We look at each other like this for a long time, each of us trying to figure out what the other is thinking.  I tap my hand on my knee and you immediately crawl out and work on straightening your stiff joints. You come to me, still naked, demure; your eyes are downcast and I reach out my hand to take yours. When you grasp it, you raise your gaze to meet my own and I say quietly “come here”.  You straddle my lap facing me with your knees on the couch on both sides of me. You put your arms on each side of my head and we begin to kiss. Our tongues play off each other and gauge the intensity of our feelings.  

Occasionally there are times when you and I just relax and let the world pass us by without the usual scene trying to get us to somewhere in particular.  There are moments when I feel bad for hurting you even though it gets me off and there are times when it’s too exhausting to top you for even another quarter hour.  I want to spend the rest of our night in some relative peacefulness before we resolve to finish things. I really can’t fathom why you no longer want this between us.  Why you don’t want any of this, really.  

I pull my jeans down a little and we lay out on the couch.  You are on top when you impale yourself upon me. Your body is lit by the bedroom light, your skin a new shade in the partial darkness.  When you arch your back your hair appears longer and extends almost to your ass if your head is back enough. You’ve got one hand on my chest to keep you stable as you grind and ride me slowly.  I’ve got my hands on those sexy fucking hips of yours keeping us in the same unhurried rhythm. I think to myself how amazing you look and try to fight back the realism how this may be one of the last times it happens.  “Stay in the moment.” “Enjoy her.” “Relax.” I keep repeating each like a mantra.   

You’ve got a hundred tricks and before I know it you’ve spun around 180 degrees on me without ever pulling me out of you.  I run my fingertips lightly down your back. That canvas is a wonder all its own; the way your ribs show through your pale skin just the right amount, your tattoos, the outline of your shoulder blades, the crack of your ass.  A back I’ve abused in so many, many ways and shoulders I’ve nearly torn flesh from with my teeth. Tattoos I’ve been present for while you received them and another I picked for you myself. There are light scars from a few over eager marks of a cane and a small trail of dots in sets of twos from some play piercings we did one night.  Every move you make on me sends me closer to the edge and I claw down your flesh before holding you tightly right below your rib cage and letting go everything that I have. I recuperate for a minute before sitting up behind you, reaching around and rubbing your clit. I know all the moves to make after this long and I take my time, teasing you and then doing exactly what I know you like but never letting you get off.  I lick and bite at your back, softly at first and then harder. I love to see the imprints of my teeth in irregular circles on your skin. Each place has its own unique feeling and I know which will hurt you more and where I can unabashedly sink my teeth into you. Before long you’re moving in sync with me and I let you go over the edge to where nothing else matters at all. 

We lay together with you on my chest for a long time.  It’s only natural for us to be together like this. We don’t stay in scene as often as some other players do because we live with each other and have chosen not to see other people, a popular phenomenon amongst us. I ask if you’re tired and although you say yes, you’re saying it while roughly rubbing the thigh of my jeans.  We move to the bedroom so we’ll have some space the couch doesn’t provide.

I kick off my boots and jeans along the trail to the room.  We each climb the stairs to the bed and slide in our respective sides and get close in the center.  I rarely let you fuck me but we both know without negotiation that it’s happening tonight. I find it hard to strike a balance between keeping you close because we’re running out of time and keeping you far enough away in my head to end the weekend as you’ve designed.  The balance with us can be absolutely exhausting at times. 

Still wound up from the couch we tug away my existing clothes while kissing hard and fast.  Your fingers find their way inside of me before I can even attempt to stop you. This is us, the “couple” that we don’t see so often. The “couple” that doesn’t have to ask permission or receive a new set of rules all the time.  I let you inside of me for a few minutes, trying to let my guard down and make my thoughts relax. I am barely aware of time or space sometimes when we’re together but this doesn’t happen to be one of them. I manipulate your body without speaking so that you are spinning into a “69” position for us.  You never even miss a movement while you move, you’re just that good. I’ve never experienced you on this personal level as much as I could have, and probably should have.  I wrap my arms around your thighs while you put your wetness right into my face and mouth.  My tongue grazes the length of you from your clit to your ass and then back again. I have to consciously fend off not allowing myself to come while keeping you from doing the same.  You go down on me with the enthusiasm of a virgin after thinking about it for years. I keep trying to keep us on the same page while I alternate centering myself on your clit to spreading throughout your entire cunt.  I bury my face into the wetness you’ve created and try to imprint every part of you into me. I inhale your scent and try to leave the taste of you forever wedged in my brain. My hands search every part of you and a map is formed in my head of each curve or mark.  While you’re touching me I try to keep in mind everything that I really love so I can recall it later when I’m left without you. You fuck me hard, enough so that you hurt me much of the time. I can’t tell how much of you I’m taking but feel like it’s getting close to your whole hand.  

I feel like I’m too close to the edge all of a sudden and know it’s too late to fight it off.  After this long I know every thing to say or do is going to nudge you into getting off for me. I push my fingers as far into you as I can and tell you from below how I want you to come for me right now and you immediately comply.  When I’m starting to feel the sparks of orgasm flashing and making me forget everything I’ve ever known, I lose control of both of us for the briefest moment in time. The only abilities I still retain are to continue fucking you until you get off and be able to breathe.  This near constant string of curse words come from me and I can’t stop touching you even though you’re already done.  

     “Fuck, baby…” I finally say before trailing off.  I shift you to one side and you make your way up to lay next to me.  I put your head into the point where my arm meets my shoulder and we touch and tease each other lightly; drawing lines on skin that’s now hypersensitive with brain chemicals.  

We lay together for a long time when I realize I’m drifting in and out of sleep.  I pull you in closely; part because I want you close to me but also part so I’ll know if you try to get up in the middle of the night.  I don’t want you wandering around in here or the main house while I’m asleep. You relax easily into me and I know you aren’t far behind me to sleep as I twirl your hair through my fingers and slip away. 

We haven’t always slept like this; for a couple years we made sure that we weren’t tied together like that.  Too intimate, too “close”, we thought. Neither of us wanted to ruin what we had together or to have too many soft feelings for each other when there was so much other fun to be had.  We each have had prior relationships of this sort that faltered and fell through because it became too routine and “vanilla” to be fun anymore. We still try hard not to let all that come through even though I love you as I have any other woman I’ve dated or played with.  Now we sleep together, a tie that binds us together, but we each try to remember our place in the game. Occasionally, we fall into this peaceful sleep in each others arms but then wake up to a whole new day with me throwing you around and fucking you like animal while you’re on all fours.  It’s how things have to be for us. 

Waking early, while you’re still asleep, I wrap your wrists in your favorite leather cuffs and attach 2-way clips on each of them.  I pull some other things out of our own stash we brought to add to Jake’s elaborate set-up. As nice as it is, it’s not “home” and we need a little touch of calm.  I’m realize I’m pacing, I’m nervous as fuck. These are the things you never see, anything that might look like failure to you. But there won’t be any of that today.  Tomorrow when I head back home we will have gone our separate ways. We’ll each be free again. You’ll be in a new town with a new job and have already set up some people you’re interested in seeing romantically. I try not to think about it. I’ll be back to the “usual”, only without you.   

You awake with a startle as the rope I’ve ran through both cuffs pulls your hands together in front of you.  I pull you off the bed with a jerk and you stumble down the stairs. I reel you in close to me and lead you to the table in the middle of the other room where you know instinctively to lay on the table.  I cuff each of your wrists to the sides but leave you some slack to move just a bit. I pull another set of leather from Jake’s stash and cuff your ankles to each side of the table as well. You’re fully awake now and this is one of your favorite ways to start a day.  I wander away from you to get a closer look at the various paraphernalia on the walls. You’re watching me walk along touching various items as I go. There are canes, which you both love and hate and floggers of various textures and tails and material. Cuffs in steel, cuffs in plastic, flex cuffs that are used once and then have to be cut off, cuffs in leather.  There are clamps of every variety for body parts I’m not even sure I’d want to clamp and medical equipment galore. Scissors for your clothes, speculums of different sizes, gloves in latex and nitrile and vinyl. I can’t even fathom using all this stuff. I keep a close eye on you to see if something looks like it’s getting your attention. Inside a trunk are a multitude of dildoes and vibrators but I’m not too keen on sharing.  There are dozens of condoms that are flavored or scented and every color conceivable. Inside a small closet are ladies outfits that I suspect belong to Jake’s lady. Pretty sexy stuff there, I gotta say. In the top of the closet are two mannequin heads with black leather masks on them that look eerily like decapitations floating on a shelf. A low bookshelf has titles ranging the vanilla to the hardcore and I stop to gather in Jake’s reading style.  It’s got everything from “S&M 101” and “Screw the Roses…” to the uninspiring likes of Kellerman and Cornwell. On top of the bookshelf is an array of candles sitting inside globes or atop of dishes and plates waiting to be played with.  

I return to the portion of the wall with the canes and make a selection before pulling a flogger and bring them back to you.  I add that to the set of the same that I brought from home and lay them off to the side, but within your line of vision. I begin to touch you all over, running my hands through your hair and then down your back, scratching you a little…and then much deeper.  When my hand finds your groin area you automatically lift your ass up towards me just slightly. It’s imperceptible movements like that that make me know you love this shit. I put my finger inside your cunt to find that you’re already wet. I only tease you there for a moment; it’s not that kind of fun time yet.  I kiss your neck just under your hairline and note the marks I’ve made on you in varying shades and stages of healing and smile to myself. I imagine you’ve already snuck away and looked at them like you like to do. You always wear marks proudly, displaying them for anyone who asks. To you it’s a sign of strength; that you were strong enough not to use your safe word, strong enough to take whatever I gave you.  It’s a sign of love; that we connect and respect each other. They’re each of these things to me too. I’m always proud when you’ve got bruises underneath places that I now welt with some toy or paddle. I know I own your body until every one of those marks heal; I’ll be inside your head exciting you with every shower you take and every time you change your clothes. You have had other people in your life you’ve fucked besides me but they didn’t do what I do. In my head I wonder if you might return to me some day soon. 

A light leather flogger starts our morning off perfectly.  Nothing too intense by any means and you’re already starting to make these delightful noises.  I bring the tails down on you rapidly, enough to warm you up and get you going. The pattern of the figure eight shows lightly on your ass and thighs.  I hit you a couple of times as hard as I can before putting it away and trading for the other. The last few times I hit you are bright red on your skin but I know they didn’t cause you any real pain.  The heavier flogger is made of rubber and has the tiniest possible teeth along the edges. I acquired this from my friend after he told me it was the most brutal flogger he had ever used. The intrigue ate at me until I relented and bought it for us, for you.  He was right; you loathe it. Starting off slow I drop the tails onto you instead of actually hitting you with them before gathering some speed and strength. You’re wiggling a lot and throwing off my strike zone and I warn you to stop and you comply as soon as you’re able.  I do love when your ass has my sexy layout upon it and I move a couple steps around the table to aim from another angle. The cross-cross thatched markings look awesome on you. You’re struggling further against the bonds and trying to make yourself sink into the table so I move to your shoulders.  The tails are too long to control for such a small area so I stay close and make each strike as perfect as I can. When you finally cry out I know you’re ready for more.  

I drop the flogger right there in your line of sight and run my finger along each of the canes; back and forth, back and forth while you turn it over in your head which one you’re more prepared for.  No matter, I choose the thicker of the two. I’d rather have bruises right now than blood. I don’t allow you to come down from the flogger before I begin to work your legs and ass with the cane. For someone who claims to hate to be caned it makes you ultra turned on and wet.  I reinforce my previous pattern while you pull hard against the restraints holding you down. You begin to cry by the 5th or 6th time I hit you and I keep moving from one section to another so we don’t have to stop too soon.  You’re mumbling under your heaving breaths, asking me in several various forms to stop. When you lose the ability to form a sentence at all and are left only to sob I ease up.  You and I both know you have to get this out of your system; the demons that stay trapped inside. I won’t disappoint you by going soft because of the circumstances. I’ve never pushed you this hard nor hurt you as much but it’s necessary for you to make sure this scenario is what you want.  You don’t have to leave; you’re not being forced to. I provide for us in every means but you’re interest in a new city is more important now. I take the restraints off your left side before taking the long way around the table to the right side. Your eyes follow me asking if it’s over but we both know you wouldn’t be satisfied if it were.  

     “You know the rules, baby.” I don’t even need to reiterate this to you because you always try your hardest.  You’re well aware that even though I remove the cuffs from you it doesn’t mean you can get up or even move until I say so.  I don’t want to bring you back from that place that you go when I’m tearing you up and making you scream on the inside so I prepare to begin again.  I try to push away the part of me that says you’ve had enough; the struggle within me that is adamant I stop this entire thing. The part that says I need to take you in my arms, carry you to bed and take care of you the rest of the night.  I know I have to continue and I realize it will be worse for you if I leave you open and exposed for much longer. If I don’t continue you’ll be lucid and aware again which will make the pain more extreme. I switch canes to a long but very thin one.  Tight and flexible, it’s whooshing sound is almost deafening as I bring it down right in the area that your ass meets your thighs. You scream out without thinking, arch your back and throw one hand behind you to cover yourself from a second hit. Though I normally would have let you breathe through the last one, the fact that you’ve failed to follow instruction makes me bring it down on you with enough force that the back of your hand splits open like an over ripened peach.  You scream again and flail your arms and legs about enough that I know you aren’t getting into that space where pain subsides and you just need to relax and get back into it again. Your cries fill my ears as I go to you and run my fingers through your hair. I only stop briefly to kiss the top of your head before going around the table. Your breathing is ragged, coming in fits and starts and there are strings of saliva and mucus going from your face to the floor. I know you’re already at your threshold but today of all days, we push past.  Today I don’t worry about tomorrow or about how you’ll explain what happened. I begin to hit you again but this time start lighter, which is still enough pain to make an average person border on panic. Your skin is broken down from the many hours of beatings you’ve endured the last 2 days and when the rattan hits you your skin it keeps splitting open and blood pools at the surface of the wounds. I leave behind patterns of your strength and beauty and endurance with every cut I make.  

The blood from your body lands and creates tiny pools underneath you.  I hit you so many times you look like you’ve been in some sort of heinous accident.  I don’t get off on hurting you like this and in fact I have to struggle with it until the very end when I simply can’t go on any longer.  You seem to have faded from consciousness for a moment because you’re no longer moving and your breathing begins to slow down. The sudden relaxation cues me that I can’t take you any further on this particular journey.  That’s it for me.  

You’re fully alert again as I wipe your skin down with a cold, wet towel and clean the blood from the slashes in your flesh.  You’re lying quiet on the table but wince against the temperature and pressure of the towel. Once done, I sit you up on the edge and tell you to remain there so I can make sure you’re okay before you start walking around.  You shift your weight from side to side to try to take the sting out of sitting on the fresh wounds. When I take you to the bedroom you cringe with each step.  

We lie down and kiss once again, our tongues adeptly encircling one another.  I run my hands along the length of your body as far as I can reach and softly touch your face with both hands.  In front of the bed are four full length floor to ceiling mirrors all lined up in a row. What was yesterday a portrait of loveliness now feels more hollow.  I put my arms around your shoulders and lean you against my chest, hugging you tightly. Your hands come to them and hold me as well and a sigh escapes me. I’m always so happy with you, we were always so happy together, I thought.  I brush aside the thought of you leaving and stay in the moment. 

I’m looking at you in the mirror and you’re staring right back at me.  We maintain that eye contact for a long time, perhaps wondering what each is thinking.  You’re beautiful, perhaps even gorgeous, right now and I struggle to breathe. I brush away your hair to kiss your neck softly while you lean to the opposite side to allow me easier access.  I kiss down your neck and along your shoulder. You’ve got bruises and welts covering your skin and I touch them as lightly as possible with my mouth. I can feel the irregularity of your breathing and it makes me want to control my own.  When it occurs to me that I’m trying to draw out our time together I look up and you’re still watching me in the mirror, smiling.  

We know that when we wake up tomorrow we’ll be in the last moments of our time together, perhaps forever. You’ll always be a part of me and I know I’ll always be a part of you. We’re scratched into each other skin, literally; we’re etched into each others minds.  I support everything you do, want only the best for my beautiful girl. Every part of me is hoping that you change your mind…I’ve done everything I possibly can.