I spent most of the Saturday after Thanksgiving doing domestic engineering.  Robert's housekeeper was away for the long Holiday weekend, visiting her children, so I prepared and served breakfast for the two of us and then started going through the house without bothering to shower.  If any of the neighbors had lived close enough to peek in through the windows, they'd have seen me with my hair in a ponytail, wearing one of Robert's old tee shirts, a thong bikini, four-inch heels, and a dust-rag over my shoulder.  I stripped and remade the bed, cleaned the master bath and the powder room, then started on the kitchen.

I kept Robert's coffee cup topped off as he did paperwork in his study, and when I was done cleaning the kitchen, I put together a tray of cold cuts and salad for lunch.  By the time we finished eating it was after one, so I hustled to vacuum, dust, neaten, and otherwise spiff up the rest of the house.  I was taking a break around four o'clock when Robert came out of his study and sat next to me on the living-room couch.

"Time to knock off for the day, Karen," he said.  "You've done plenty, and I have plans for us for the rest of the afternoon and this evening.  Go get yourself cleaned up, and then put on that short robe and some play shoes."

Oh, goody, I thought to myself, it's going to be a fun evening.  The robe he wanted me to wear was black silk, and its only fastening was a matching tie.  Play shoes was a general category that encompassed my highest heels, but there were multiple possibilities.  I wanted to wear exactly what he was envisioning in his mind's eye, so I asked for further guidance.

"Would you prefer the pumps or the ankle-straps?" I asked.  Those were the two pair he'd bought for me soon after I came to live with him, and they were definitely his favorites.

"The straps, I think," he replied, and my heart sped up in eager anticipation.  Those shoes had very slim five-and-a-half-inch heels, the highest I owned, and Robert had always been true to his word; when I'd worn them in the past, I had spent very little time standing up.

*

I took the time to do a thorough job of it.  After I'd finished showering, shaving, washing my hair, and putting on my best face, I slipped into the robe, wrapped it around myself and tied the sash around my waist, and sat on the edge of the bed to fasten the ankle straps on my shoes.  I stayed seated for about a minute, blanking my mind and letting myself sink completely into sub-space, then stood and walked slowly back into the living room, teetering on those outrageously high heels.

Robert was sitting on the couch reading a magazine when I approached him, and he set it aside as I knelt at his feet.  He lit a cigarette, and we talked quietly as he smoked, just little things:  what I had accomplished that day, what was planned for the next day, conversation that I knew was intended to set a quiet mood and ensure that I was ready for whatever would happen next.

Eventually Robert crushed out his cigarette, rose, and offered me his hand.  I took it, and he helped me to my feet; then he led me back into the master bedroom and stood me facing the wall, still wearing the robe.  He pressed his hand gently against my back just below my neck.  I raised my arms, reaching to put my palms flat against the wall, and leaned forward slightly to put the weight of my upper body onto my hands.

After a few seconds, I felt the light touch of a quirt flicking against my upper back, just barely making contact.  Robert walked it down my back, avoiding the area of my kidneys, then across my ass and down the backs of my thighs and calves before retracing the path back to my shoulders.  My skin tingled, the warm afterglow of the shower mixing with the stimulation of the quirt to increase the blood flow close to my skin and gently awaken the nerves.

The flicking of the quirt stopped, and Robert slowly, sensuously, slid the robe off my shoulders.  I pushed myself back to an upright position, lifting my arms from the wall and letting them drop to my sides, and that allowed the sleeves of the robe to slide down my arms and fall away from my body.  I put my arms back up to the wall without any prompting; this time I crossed them at face level, each hand holding the opposite elbow, and then I leaned forward again, resting my cheek on my arm.  I closed my eyes, waiting placidly for whatever Robert would do next.

Again I felt light, glancing blows to my upper back, but this time it was a flogger.  It felt like Robert's suede flogger; the suede has fairly wide tails, and it's almost all thud and very little sting.  I was pleased that he was warming me up slowly for whatever was going to come later, and I felt my body relax as the strokes continued to land.  My shoulders slumped as the tension from the day's housework drained away from me.

After gradually increasing the impact of his figure-eight motion, Robert switched to an overhand swing; the fall of the flogger died on my back and slid down to my waist before he pulled it back.  I could feel my back getting warmer, and I knew it was changing color, turning pink over a rectangular area between my shoulder blades and about four inches above my waist.

Robert switched back to the quirt, almost without missing a beat, and again I felt the light, dancing touches, this time on my ass cheeks.  The quirt started to sting and bite more intensely, but it was still quite light, a very pleasant stimulation.  There was a momentary pause as he changed implements again; now he was working on my ass with a leather flogger that stings more than the suede.  As the sensations became more and more pleasurable, I sank further and further into bottom-space.  I lowered my arms slightly on the wall, pushing my behind out toward the incoming blows to increase their force.

I hadn't been counting, but I'd guess Robert had given me forty or fifty solid strokes on my ass when they started to taper off in intensity.  Then the blows ceased, and the next thing I felt was Robert's hands reaching around from behind me to caress my breasts.  My nipples had been hardening for a while as the soothing warmth of the flogging spread through my body, and my breathing quickened as he teased them to even greater stiffness.  I lifted my head, and his kiss was tender but insistent as he continued to fondle my breasts, his tongue thrusting between my opened lips to meet mine.

Robert eventually broke off the kiss and slipped his arm down and around my waist.  At his slight pressure, I turned away from the wall, and he guided me to stand next to the bed.  I hadn't noticed when we entered the room, but Robert had set out a full complement of leather cuffs:  wrists, thighs, and ankles.  He picked up one of the wrist cuffs, and I raised my arm so he could position and fasten it.  He repeated the process with the other wrist, and I spread my legs farther apart when he reached for the thigh bands.  Once those were on me, he picked up the ankle cuffs.  I lifted my right foot and set it on the edge of the bed next to him, the toe of the shoe resting on the top of the bed and the long stiletto heel pressing into the side of the mattress to help me keep my balance.  When the first ankle cuff was fastened, I lowered that foot and raised the other on his other side, and in less than two minutes the restraints were all in place.

"Lie on the bed face up, Karen, and put a pillow under your head if you wish," Robert directed.  I disdained the pillow, and he drew my hands down past my hips to fasten the wrist cuffs to the thigh bands.  I had automatically spread my legs when I lay down, so he didn't say anything more; he just attached the chains from the frame at the foot of the bed to my ankle cuffs and tightened them, ensuring that my legs would remain apart and flat on the bed.

Robert came back along the side of the bed, leaned over, and again kissed me tenderly.  Then he told me to raise my head and he slipped a blindfold over my eyes.  It was a very effective blindfold, leather with a thick sheepskin lining and a wide elastic band.  Once it was in place, I could see nothing, so I closed my eyes and waited, fully at peace.

The next thing I felt was a light touch on the arch of my right foot, and for a few seconds I couldn't figure out what was causing that particular sensation.  Then, as it moved slowly up the side of my calf, I realized it was a fluffy, fur-like duster, probably much like the one I'd used on the furniture earlier in the day.  The light touch, almost but not quite a tickle, moved up my thigh, across my belly, and down my left leg.  When it reached my left foot, the touch disappeared, then reappeared in the palm of my left hand.  It traced a path up my arm, across my upper chest, and down my other arm.  The duster's touch was both soothing and sensual, and I felt myself relax even more.

Then I felt another touch on my right foot, but it was a different kind of sensation, and again I was puzzled as to what Robert was using.  As it continued to brush lightly against the skin of my leg, though, I realized it was a feather.  It moved slowly up my leg, caressing the top and inside of my thigh in turn, then slid teasingly up and down the crease where the inside of my thigh meets my crotch.  The feeling was incredibly arousing, and I tried to raise my hips to increase the contact, but the feather was quickly withdrawn and I sank back onto the bed.  The feather then resumed its teasing on the other side of my pussy, causing my hips to buck up involuntarily, but it continued its deliciously frustrating journey down my left leg.

*

When the feather had finally reached my foot and been withdrawn from my skin, for about fifteen seconds I felt nothing.  Then the duster returned, this time making slow circles around one of my breasts and then the other.  Robert was avoiding my upthrust nipples, but I was becoming seriously turned on and I prayed silently that he would stimulate them.  I somehow knew that I shouldn't speak aloud, but he must have heard my silent pleas, because after several turns around each of my breasts the duster flowed lightly across my right nipple and I felt a definite tingle in my loins.  After several seconds of delicious sensation on that nipple the duster moved to the other, and when it did I again felt that tingle.

The duster went away, and I felt Robert's breath on my cheek.  He kissed me lightly, then more forcefully, and I felt moisture starting to form inside my pussy.  Then he ended the kiss, and again I felt nothing.  The absence of sensation was frustrating; any kind of touch would have been welcome.  Then I heard the sound of a match being struck, and after a couple of seconds I smelled cigarette smoke.  That made me a little afraid; the first time Robert blindfolded me and then lit a cigarette, I'd thought, at the time, that he intended to burn me with it.  Will he really do it this time? I wondered to myself, and that possibility, while not as terrifying as it had been the previous time, was still disconcerting.

I felt the feather again as Robert resumed teasing the junctures of my thighs with my groin, and when it moved from those spots, it went into my pussy slit.  There it slid lightly but insistently upward, coming tantalizingly close to, but never quite touching, my clit, which by then was stiff and throbbing with my growing sexual desire.  An involuntary groan escaped my lips each time it came close but stopped short, and then finally one time it didn't stop short, and its flicking back and forth across my swollen clit sent waves of pleasurable sensation washing over me.

Suddenly I felt a spot of intense heat on my right breast, very close to the nipple, and I screamed, convinced that he'd pressed his cigarette against my skin.  But I felt no pressure, and the heat faded quickly and was replaced by a second spot an inch from the first.  Oh, Robert, you devil, I thought as a third spot of heat flashed on my other breast.  That's candle wax you're dripping on me, but you really set me up well for it, because the last time you used ice at the critical moment.

The feather had continued to flick at my pussy, and a fourth spot of heat, more intense than the previous three, flared on my left nipple just as the tip of the feather stabbed hard into my clit.  I let out a squeal as the sudden pain hit, but it changed rapidly to a moan of pleasure as my sexual tension ratcheted sharply upward.

No more wax fell, and the feather stopped stimulating me.  Once again, for perhaps fifteen seconds, I was acutely aware of the absence of any touching sensations.  Then the familiar scent of leather hit my nostrils, and a multitude of soft touches slid slowly from under my chin down between my breasts.  It's the little deerskin flogger, I thought as it swirled in a circular motion around and over my navel.

The duster returned to tease the insides of my thighs, and they quivered in response.  Again my hips moved involuntarily upward, and as soon as they did there came a rapid-fire WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! as the little flogger crashed repeatedly into my breasts, alternating sides and creating a confusing, conflicting maze of sensations.  The impacts on my breasts were balanced by the tingles I felt each time some of the flogger tails slid across my stiff nipples, and the duster was wreaking havoc on my hyper-sensitive pussy lips.  I writhed in frustrated need as my arms and legs strained against the restraints that were holding me down.

The duster went away again, and the flogger traced a sensuous path down across my belly.  This time, though, it didn't stop there; it continued to move and I felt its multi-tailed touch slide across my shaved pubes and down my slit.  It brushed across first one thigh and then the other; I heard a soft swish and then it landed right smack on my cunt.  Again and again it landed, and again the conflicting sensations drove me to distraction.  The thuds of its impacts on my pussy were offset by the intense darts of pleasure when one or two of the tails landed directly on my rock-hard clit.

The pussy whipping stopped after perhaps a dozen strokes, and I felt Robert's fingers slide caressingly across my right breast and begin to tease the nipple to even greater length and hardness.  "Mmmmmm," I moaned, and he pinched my nipple between his fingers to signal me to be silent.  Then I felt the bite of a clamp closing slowly on the nipple he'd been teasing, and I clamped my lips shut as the pain became more and more intense.  It plateaued at a level I could barely handle without crying out; the clamp was so tight I felt a burning sensation where it compressed my nipple.  I prepared myself for the pain of the other clamp that I knew was coming, and when it started to take hold I let my breath out sharply but made no other sound.

As I became accustomed to the stabbing pain, I realized that Robert's timing, as usual, was impeccable.  The pain in my nipples had pushed me almost to the edge; it would take very little additional stimulation for me to reach a climax.  I suddenly felt a cold wetness on my right nipple, and I guessed that he was trying to make my nipple react, trying to make it even harder so the clamp's pressure would be even more painful.  His tactic worked; I felt my nipple try to swell against the pressure of the clamp, and the combination of the abrupt chill and the greater pain had the intended effect.  He did the same thing to my other nipple, and I stifled a groan.

I was really there now, balanced delicately on the edge of the cliff, and time seemed frozen, as though someone had pressed the pause button on a video player.  The slightest nudge in the wrong way would send me crashing down into a sea of pain and sexual frustration, while a gentle push in the right direction would send me soaring.

*

The next thing I felt was Robert's fingers gently separating and spreading my engorged pussy lips.  He slipped one finger inside, then a second, and my body trembled in expectation.  But just as I was about to lift off the edge and sail away, the cold wetness returned, this time in my pussy; Robert had pushed an ice cube up into my steaming channel.  I remained balanced on that knife-edge, poised in limbo, as the stimulation of his fingers moving inside my pussy was countered by the chill of the ice as it sloshed around inside me.

When the ice was completely melted, Robert withdrew his fingers.  Except for the small lukewarm puddle of my own diluted juices, there was once again absolutely nothing touching me.  I had long since lost conscious awareness of the leather cuffs, they'd become part of my body, and my nervous system was screaming its desperate need into my brain, frantically sending a message of agonizing ache that could only be relieved by tactile contact.  I thought I was literally going to die of sexual frustration.

Then I felt Robert move between my legs, and the tip of his tongue just barely grazed my impossibly-swollen clit.  I again felt myself start to sail off the edge, and I knew with utter certainty that I was about to have the thrill of a lifetime.  I let out a long, shuddering "Ooohhh," and I was starting to feel the sweeping upward surge of a major orgasm when I felt that same sudden coldness, this time on my clit.  Robert had put an ice cube in his mouth, and he'd let it slide down over his tongue to touch my sexual lodestone, the source of my pleasure.

It was like being struck by lightning; every muscle in my body clenched for just an instant, and then I screamed, "Eeeaaahhh," as I started to come like never before, a thundering paroxysm of exquisitely violent sensation that was a totally new experience, an overwhelming, unstoppable force that thrust me instantaneously into total rapture even as it stunned me with its fury.

Robert left the ice in contact with my vibrating clit for only a moment, and then his tongue returned to lave my joy-button and I climbed higher and higher on ever-stronger waves of delirious ecstasy.  The chill returned, again for just a second, and I flew even higher.  My heart pounded and my breathing raced; I could dimly hear myself, as though from a great distance, chanting, "Yes, yes, more, more," over and over as Robert alternated his warm, soft tongue with the hard cold ice on my clit.  I was riding a continuous flow, not waves but a steady pulsing stream of unimaginably intense sensation, and it just kept going like it would never end.

Robert continued to flick and stroke my white-hot clit with his tongue, but it wasn't really necessary.  That orgasm rolled on and on, higher and higher, and I wondered if I had died and gone to heaven, the pleasure was so great.  Then I felt Robert release my ankles and move between my legs, and when he entered my gushing pussy it was like scratching an itch I hadn't known I had.  His hard cock rubbed against the front inside wall of my pussy, and it was like throwing the on-switch for my G-spot.

"Aaaiiiieee," I wailed, and what had seemed to be an unsurpassable sensation suddenly got even stronger.  I felt faint, I saw shooting stars against my closed eyelids, and I thought I was going to pass out from the incredible sensory overload.  I fought back against the impending blackness, even as I was screaming out my primal reactions.  No way, I swore to myself, there's no way I'll let myself miss any part of this, it's a once-in-a-lifetime happening.

Once he got his stiff cock into me, Robert didn't move; he just let the fullness I felt add its own increment to the power of that unbelievable orgasmic tsunami.  After an endless time, I finally started to wind down, and as I did I knew with unshakeable conviction that I'd just experienced the perfect sexual wave, the ultimate orgasm.  Robert pulled his knees up under himself, and I felt cool air cross my breasts as he lifted his upper body away from mine.  I felt two quick pinches as he removed the nipple clamps, but I was immune to pain, floating on an infinite sea of blissful contentment.  His erection slid out of me, and I felt the bed move as he shifted to sit next to me.

*

I lay quietly, bathed in an inner glow as never before, while Robert unhooked my wrists from my thighs and then removed all the cuffs from my body.  I tried to lift a hand toward my face, but my muscles were as limp as overcooked spaghetti and I couldn't do it.  Robert must have seen me trying, though, because he whispered, "Keep your eyes closed, Karen, so you aren't dazzled when I take off the blindfold."  I nodded weakly, and as the blindfold slid up over my forehead I perceived light through my closed eyelids where before there had been only darkness.

I gingerly opened one eye and then the other, and I saw Robert looking down at me.  He had a slight smile on his lips and a twinkle in his bright eyes, and I had never seen a more self-satisfied expression on any man's face.  You really earned that expression, Robert, I thought to myself; there has never been such an expression that was as richly deserved.  All the superlatives in the world couldn't begin to describe what I'd felt; I knew that Robert had given me a gift that might, conceivably, someday be equaled, but it could never be eclipsed.

I had screamed myself hoarse, and Robert knew it.  He slid his hand under my neck, then held my head and the glass of water from which he must have taken the ice cubes while I sipped to moisten my parched mouth and throat.  When he'd put the glass back on the night-stand, I turned toward him and lifted my face, and he bent over and kissed me, tenderly and with obvious affection.  I tried again to raise my left arm, and this time I was successful; I wrapped it around his neck and started to roll onto my right side.  He slid down on the bed and turned onto his left side, and we embraced, planting delicate kisses on each other's necks.

"How long was I up there?" I whispered into his ear.

I'm not sure," he admitted.  "I know it was more than ten minutes; I think it was probably about fifteen.  I didn't have my stopwatch handy," he added dryly, but at the same time he was unable to disguise the feeling he'd gotten from having brought me to that incredible place.

I considered his response.  At first, it didn't seem like such a long time, compared to the timelessness in which I'd been suspended.  But as I thought about it, I understood the enormity of what I'd just experienced.  The typical male orgasm, not just the ejaculation but the encompassing neural stimulus as well, lasts perhaps fifteen to twenty seconds; I couldn't remember being present for any that had gone on as long as thirty.  More to the point, as I thought back over my own life I realized that even my most intense and satisfying orgasms, those I'd always thought of as the most wonderful moments of my sexual existence, had only lasted between one and two minutes.  Robert had raised my empirical high-water mark by an order of magnitude; I could only marvel at the brilliance of his technique and hope it had been his affection for me that had inspired it.

I rolled further over, until my left breast pressed into the left side of his chest, and I moved my left leg to rest the inside of my thigh on top of his.  Even though my oozing pussy was not touching him at all, the contact of his body with mine was all it took.  My body had reached the sexual equivalent of Fahrenheit four-fifty-one, and I burst into spontaneous orgasm.  It was like an after-shock following a major earthquake; all of a sudden I was coming again.

It was not as powerful as at the summit of that awesome peak I'd reached only a few minutes earlier, but it was more than adequate.  Once it started, Robert pushed his leg up into my groin as I pushed downward, and our combined pressure prolonged the shudders passing through me.  That orgasm was strong enough to restart the itch inside my pussy, so as it started to fade I lifted my left leg again and resumed my rollover until I was straddling Robert.  He was still hard, and as soon as he slid up into me and his cock rubbed across that spot I came again.

I looked down and saw that he was watching me closely, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in concentration.  I was just starting to be curious about why he was looking at me that way when he slapped my ass, first one cheek and then the other, alternate hands spanking me in quick succession, and that set me off yet again.  "Yes, oh, yes," I gasped, and I leaned forward with my hands on either side of his chest and humped my hips up and down on his stiff cock, trying to scratch that itch harder and harder as I spiraled back up the mountain.

When that third after-shock orgasm subsided I collapsed onto Robert's chest, my face next to his cheek and my breath a rapid shallow panting as I struggled to recover from the latest sensory onslaught.  "Please come in me now," I whispered, and for a moment I was terribly disappointed when I felt his head shake negatively.

"I don't think I can," he whispered back.  "I'm on an entirely different kind of high right now, and even though I'm hard, I'm not really turned on, not that way."

Since this wasn't unusual for Robert, his answer satisfied me and my disappointment eased.  I knew how much he enjoyed giving me pleasure, and to say he'd done that was the understatement of the decade, if not the century.  So I raised my hips to let him slide out of me again and then rolled back to my previous position, lying on my right side with my left breast and left leg resting on his body.  He'd turned his head as I rolled back over, and he reached up to caress my cheek.  After a couple of seconds I leaned forward and kissed him, slowly and warmly but without any urgency, trying to let him know how happy he'd made me.

Our tongues touched, and when they did I felt another warm rush in my groin.  My nipples tingled as they popped back to rigid attention, and Robert's leg was suddenly much wetter as my pussy literally spurted juices all over it.  My body rippled as it shook and shivered in a cascade of sensations that spread from my loins toward my limbs, and I came again, the strongest after-shock yet.  "Oh, God, I don't believe it, I'm coming again," I shrieked, and then I wailed incoherently as I was washed away in another tidal wave of intense pleasure.

When the tremors finally subsided, Robert gently rolled me over onto my back.  He started to unfasten the ankle strap on my right shoe, and I murmured, "Please don't, please leave them on," and he desisted.  He pulled the covers over my body, turned off the lamp, and got into bed beside me.  He slipped his left arm under my neck, kissed me softly, and then rolled me onto my left side.  He slid behind me, cuddling against me spoon-fashion; I pressed my butt back into his belly, savoring the closeness of his body to mine, and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

*

I was alone when I awoke the next morning.  The sunlight was streaming in through the bedroom windows, and it looked like one of those beautiful fall days.  Looking out the window, I saw small patches of overnight frost still lingering on the grass where the house cast morning shadows, but the skies were clear and the bright sun promised a warmer afternoon.

Robert must have been listening for the sound of running water, because as I emerged from the bathroom he came into the bedroom carrying his coffee cup and his cigarettes.  I got back into bed, sitting up against the pillows with my knees raised and my stiletto heels digging into the sheets, and he sat on the edge of the bed next to me.  We looked into each other's eyes and there was nothing to say; each of us knew that no words could express either the wonder of the previous evening or the sense of intimate comfort we both felt at that moment.

I reached my hand toward him; he moved his to meet it, and as our fingers touched he started to bend over to kiss me.  I rolled away from him, holding onto his hand so he had to follow; I straightened my legs, slid onto my back, and pulled him down on top of me.  He had only a partial erection, but it was enough for me to guide him into me.  I put my arms around his shoulders, pulling him close, and he started to move very slowly back and forth, being careful not to let himself slip out.  His mood was loving and caring rather than lustful, and I respected it; I wrapped my legs around his waist and crossed my ankles behind his back, but I made no effort to increase either the pace or the pressure of his motion.

His erection firmed as he continued to move within me.  He bent his head and kissed me, tenderly but with a spark of passion to give it emphasis, and I was instantly transported back to the moment where we'd left off the night before.  I felt my nipples rise and stiffen and my pussy juice flow, and then I was coming, an orgasm that started out strong and then welled up in an ecstatic explosion that nearly matched what I'd experienced the evening before, in intensity if not in duration.  Even while it held me in thrall I was amazed at my body's response after all that had happened in the previous twelve hours; that after-shock easily made my all-time top forty on its own merits.

I don't know why this wonderfulness is happening to me, I thought as the waves ran down to wavelets and then subsided completely, but I sure hope it never ends.

* *

Copyright 1997 by Left Side Signals