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Wolven Den

*My skin tightens as each drop of wax runs into the last and hardens. I watch her hand tip the candle, watch the wax bead and drip, feel the heat sink in and blossom in deeper, darker places.

She steps away and my gaze is drawn to my reflection. I watch the way the wax moves with each breath I take, see in vivid detail the intricate pattern it makes. I shift my body slightly enjoying the feel and sight of being helpless and at her mercy.

The sound of the crop cutting through air and her words bring my focus back to her. I listen intently, nodding my head as she finishes her instructions, my gaze drawn back to the mirror*

Yes, Miss Luna…

*The first strike lands and my eyes widen with the sting. I remind myself to breathe and count off. With each successive strike my body’s instinct is to squirm away, to try and escape the coming blow. I force myself to be still, to breathe it away. There is no pain, just the sting that stokes the fire inside higher. My voice takes on a lower, huskier sound as I count each strike. In fascination I watch as she lifts the crop and brings it down, watch the thin red lines appear on my pale thighs. The contrast itself adds to my excitement and by the time of the last strike I am nearly purring the number*

Twenty…

*I stare at myself in the mirror, the ropes binding me, the wax covering my breasts, her marks across my thighs and I feel…almost beautiful*
 
I step away, dropping the crop to the floor. She looks so lovely. Her color is high, her eyes are sparkling. With no preamble, I return to my spot between her thighs. I lean forward, inhaling her scent. There is a hint of spice there now, of something newly awakened. My forehead tilts until it rests against the soft swell of her belly. I want to mark her in intimate places. My breath has become ragged and control is fast slipping. I stave it off, biting into the willing flesh just above the juncture of her thighs. A low moan, harsh and husky with need escapes me and I scramble away. Control, I need control.

You look beautiful, sweetness and you did so well. Time to remove the wax, though.

Stepping to her right side, my nails begin the process of removing hardened wax from her soft body, picking the spots at random. A piece from her collar bone, a bit from her breast, another on the opposite side. Interspersed with this, I kiss each bit of newly uncovered skin, my tongue darting out, repeatedly, to taste.

If I had used regular candles, this would leave thrilling little red streaks behind.

My voice is a husky murmur. I am trying to pace myself. Not rush either of us. The game and hunt has just begun and there are many more things she should learn. Finishing my clean up of her skin takes another endless moment, but eventually, I have removed all traces of the wax, except for the bits that cover her nipples. I plan on adding more there, soon. But, first;

I need to untie you, sweetness.

My hands move to give birth to that statement, releasing her from her bonds almost as soon as I have finished speaking. I kneel to remove the last ankle from the ropes and check to make sure she isn't abraded from jerking.

There is a low wooden table behind me, love. Climb up, placing your face in the cradle. Spread your thighs a little more than hip distance apart. Lace your fingers behind your neck. You should be fairly comfortable in that position. The flogger is next.

I don't wait to see if she will comply. Instead I return to my chest and pick up the flogger.
 
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*Through heavy lids I gaze at our reflection in the mirror, her mass of dark curls against my skin. My fingers move restlessly wanting so much to thread through her hair. I can feel the heat coming off of her in waves, feel her breath washing over me. The unexpected sharpness of her teeth sinking into tender flesh causes my eyes to slam shut and my lips to part in a silent cry. I throw my head back as my entire body jerks against my bonds.

She speaks to me in a voice that fuels my desire. My focus returns to my reflection, it is what she requires and I am eager to watch. The feel of her lips and tongue on my skin as each bit of wax falls away has me biting back soft moans. It is a struggle to keep my eyes open and turned to the mirror. I glance to her face and quickly back as she begins to untie me.

My fingertips brush over my skin, feeling where the wax had been, where the ropes had encircled my wrists. I watch her with hungry eyes as she moves toward the chest then turn toward the table she indicated.

The flogger is next…the flogger is next… I hear her words over and over in my mind. Pulling my silvery hair forward over one shoulder to leave my back completely exposed, I take a moment to arrange myself on the table.

The flogger is next…the flogger is next… The rhythm of my pulse speeds as I play it over and over in my head. I had felt my vulnerability before, bound to the cross. Now, even unbound, I feel almost more so. My fingers grip together tightly behind my neck and I wait, the unknown making me shiver with excitement*
 
Turning abruptly, I see that Weaver has done as asked and positioned herself to my specifications. Her body is one long, pale line against the darkness of the modified massage table and I stare, awed by the curve of her butt, the length of her legs. Finally, I shake my head and move forward, my steps soundless in the heavily charged room.

Upon reaching her side, I allow one had to trail along her spine, fingertips lightly touching, brushing the paleness. The hand dips lower, moving between her spread thighs. My middle finger curls upward as I flip my hand to allow entrance to her inner walls. Tightness and warmth. A quick press and I pull out, bringing the finger to my mouth to taste her.

Sweet, so sweet my Weaver.

No other words. I have none, instead I bring the flogger into play, trailing the soft suede falls along her back, over her butt, down her thighs. I don't realize I am speaking until I hear my voice, explaining...always explaining.

This shouldn't hurt you, love. The falls are soft. Feel? What causes the sensation of thudding is the weight of the falls all together. When properly controlled the weight can be as light as paw prints or as heavy as a smack. The type of fabric used (fur, leather, suede) also plays it's part in the sensation. I am going to start lightly, working from your shoulder blades down to the small of your back...and then up again. If it becomes to much, you know what to say.

I bend down, and kiss the small of her back, my tongue tracing the delicate bones of her spine. Then, a slight step back before beginning the rotation of the flogger. All wrist action at first, light enough that the falls barely kiss her skin. I watch her hands, seeing the whiteness of the knuckles as her grip tightens and releases. Pacing....it's important. I have to think.

The next round is a bit harder. The tightness of my wrist makes it so. The falls are landing rapidly, a slight whisk of sound as the flogger connects, my wrist tiring as I reach the peak of this second round, her shoulders.

Another step back to allow for greater range of motion. Using elbow and upper arm, I slow the strikes, placing them more precisely. The suede doesn't allow for real pain, only heaviness, but her back is starting to turn light red. I stalk the length of the table and land a few hits on the curve of her rump before dropping the flogger beside her on the table.

So pretty, Weaver. Your skin looks properly warm now.
 
*Lying on the table I let my eyes close, no need to keep them open now. I listen to the sound of my breathing, feel my pulse beating behind my ears. The surface feels cool against my thighs. My skin is so sensitized I imagine I can almost feel each individual mark left by the crop.

When her touch comes my back arches instinctively toward her, my hips pressing up just a bit, a silent offering. I bite down on my lip hard, refusing to give my protest sound, refusing to beg as she steps away. I know she can feel my excitement, taste my need.

Relaxing my body on the table as she trails the flogger over me I listen to her voice, her words putting me at ease. I nod my head to let her know that I remember what to do, the word we agreed on, and take a deep breath.

The flogger begins to fall, at first a light caress then growing harder. I feel my skin sensitizing, growing warmer. My hands tense, to keep myself still. My body wants to arch and rise as I hear the flogger whisper through the air*

So pretty, Weaver. Your skin looks properly warm now.

*My back is tingling, my breath coming in deep gasps. I lay there, eyes closed, hands clasped tightly…unmoving as I savor the feel of my body*
 
I inhale, tasting her scent from the air. The vanilla is darker and I know that I should I choose to take her further, she would willingly go. Decisions, decisions. Shaking my head, I reach down and trail my fingers along her hip, thinking.

Ok, sweetness. I think we should get you comfortable.

My hands reach for hers and gently untangle them.

Push yourself up and get your balance, sweetness. When you feel comfortable, return to the cross. There is a seat attachment that swings down and out. Pull it out and sit down, arms up so that I can retie your wrists. I have one more trick. I want you to see this one.

With no more words, I pick up the flogger and return it to the toy chest. From the chest's confines, I pull out a small, remote controlled, vibrating egg. I check to see if it's clean, wiping it down with alcohol swabs. Then I test the remote, to make sure the egg works the way it should. Finding everything in order, I turn to face Weaver, the egg held in the palm of my hand, the remote held in the other.

Ready?
 
*Balancing on the edge of the table I look up at her as she speaks, my eyes large and bright and filled with heat. I watch her movements in fascination, the way her body moves with such confidence and power. I want to go to her but I do as I am told.

Sliding from the table I am surprised at the wobbliness of my legs. I glance down at myself for a moment willing my feet to move. Reaching the cross I settle myself on the seat taking another opportunity to watch her hungrily.

As she turns back toward me I raise my arms and rest them against the wood behind me.

"Ready?"

*Smiling slightly I nod my head. Sounds had reached my ears that I couldn't make out but I am not worried. My body is humming with excitement and aching, my skin hot. My voice is low, soft and inviting*

I'm ready, Miss Luna...
 
Good.

My voice is husky, deep. I stride toward her, my eyes tracing her body delightedly. Her eyes are bright, large, needy, hungry. Upon reaching her side, I lean forward to capture her mouth in a long, slow, deep kiss; my tongue twining with hers. My breath catches and I stop, straightening up to tie her wrists securely. Then I show her what I hold.

This is an egg. I plan on inserting it somewhere warm and wet and then entertaining myself until you scream.

Suiting actions to words, I kneel between her legs, widening them enough for me to fit comfortably.

Raise up, just a bit.

When she moves to do as I ask, I spread her nether lips and push the oblong object within.

Are you comfortable? Sit down, if you are.
 
*Her kiss is fire, it burns through me and I lean into her, needing more of her taste. My tongue teases along hers, inviting, tempting, urging her not to stop, but stop she does. I rest my shoulders against the wood of the cross, my gaze on her face as she secures my wrists once more and shows me the egg in her hand.

My eyes flicker to it for a brief second and back to look into her eyes. Her words alone cause my back to bow away from the cross and my thighs part easily under her hands. I pull against the ropes at my wrists and lift up, tilting my hips for her, accepting what she has planned for me.

There is no stopping the soft moan, the deep sound of pleasure that rises from my throat. I can feel the egg resting inside where she has placed it and I tighten, holding it there. Settling back I look to her and mutely nod, my eyes telling her all I want to say but cannot*
 
Leaning back, my butt resting on my heels, I gaze into her eyes and explain this part to her as well. What I want, what I need, for her to give to me.

Watch yourself for me, love. Eyes on the mirror. Stay as silent as you can. I don't want to gag you but I also don't want to hear you until you are ready to release for me.

I stand up and step away, reaching for the candle which has been merrily burning in it's holder. It is hot, waxy, melty. Looking deep into her eyes, I anoint her nipples, layering the wax until each pebbled nubbin is completely covered in white. I love how it looks, the contrast of pure white and creamy pale flesh. I bend close to whisper into her ear:

You still with me, sweetness?

Replacing the candle, I re-seat myself between her thighs and turn the egg on. I can hear the low hum and her barely caught moan and my brain turns feral. With the fingers of my right hand, I spread her nether lips. Her sensitive bud of flesh peaks at me from beneath it's hood, begging to be tasted. I give in and do so, my tongue flicking out to taste, once and again. Speeding up and slowing, swirling convulsively. My eyes look up, over the swell of her breasts to lock onto hers. Her eyes are wide open, her mouth clamped closed.

I switch the egg to it's highest setting and settle in, a steady rhythm on her button. I can feel the quiver running through her body, her hips jerking convulsively forward in tandem with each stroke, each taste, each flick, each swirl. I close my eyes, stopping myself from watching her and focus. I want her to give me what I want, so she will. I have absolutely no doubt.
 
*Listening to her instructions I chew nervously on my lip. This could be the hardest part of all. The idea of a gag sends a flicker of cold fright through me. I nod my understanding, pulling my gaze from her and falling into the silence that she requires. My focus narrows on the mirror, the reflection of my body seated and bound.

I see her arm move, feel the heat of the wax once more and watch the wax run over one sensitive nipple turning opaque as it hardens. Another nipple, another drop of wax. Over and over until my nipples seem to have grown to twice their size. The heat is almost a gentle thing now, almost comforting.

You still with me, sweetness?

Her whispered breath in my ear is a living thing. It wraps around my mind and I feel somehow connected with her. I nod, remaining silent as I watch my breasts rise and fall with the quickness of my breathing. My eyes are drawn to the bead of wax at the tip of one nipple. A hardened drop that will never fall.

The gentle vibration within catches me off guard and I bite down hard on my lip, stifling the deep moan that nearly escaped. I will not fail her so quickly. My arms pull against my bonds, I can see the muscles tight and defined under my skin. The warmth of her tongue is a sweet torment and I watch my body shudder and shake with the effort just to stay silent for her.

I can feel her watching me. Resisting the temptation to look away from my reflection and into her eyes adds to my struggle. The vibrations increase and I sink my teeth harder into my lip, but even that small pain adds to the pleasure building within me. Every muscle in my body seems to be tightened to their limit, each movement of her tongue causing my entire frame to react. My hands are fisted, even my toes are curled tightly, the balls of my feet pressed hard to the floor for purchase.

My gaze moves over my reflection rising to lock with my own eyes in the mirror. There is a wildness there, a fierce lustful joy. I can hear my breath coming hard and fast, feel a pressure building as if every sound I have held back has joined together and amplified through my entire body. I can’t take my eyes off of my own face as I feel my body shuddering, twisting…dancing for her pleasure.*
 
Her body dances like it is riding an electric current. I know that she is close, close enough that only a few more minutes of serious intent will bring her the release I want. I stop, everything and lean away.

Weaver, my Weaver.

Her eyes disengage from the mirror and focus, slowly, on my face.

You are doing so well, sweetness. I am proud of you.

Leaning in, I breathe the last few words over the sensitive flesh between her thighs:

Now, give me what I want.

My mouth returns to her sweet wetness, my tongue flicking out to taste, to torment, to tease. I allow only the tip to touch her; flicking, swirling, lapping. The movement in her body returns, moisture that I can feel, seeping out from around the toy seated within. MY hands curl under her thighs, raising her slightly so that I can reach her more easily. A startled moan...and silence as I speed up. My own thighs are covered beneath the catsuit and I think that I should have removed it...but that thought disappears as I expend my energy toward feeling her convulse.
 
I cannot think, I cannot relax, I have become a mass of sensation centered on her mouth. A sob of frustrated need catches in my throat when she stops, swallowed back as I try to remain silent. My understanding fails, all I know is I need, I want, I crave. Her words soothe as I lower my gaze to hers and yet they heighten my excitement at the same time. I have made her proud.

My spirit soars and as her head bends once more I feel the pressure begin to swell again, quicker this time, my heart a hammer in my chest, my vision swimming. I am her instrument, played with expert skill. Another body wrenching wave pulses through me as she moves me and I am too late to stop the escaping sound.

Her command echoes again through my mind...Now, give me what I want...

The sensations are too much, the pressure reaching the breaking point, and I come apart. My head flies back, my body wrenching against the cross, wrists pulling hard at the ropes around them and my lips part on a deep gasp of air. A cry, almost a sob, is forced from my throat as my body writhes uncontrolled. Every muscle trembles as I draw shuddering breaths into my lungs. I cannot maintain my silence now. My soft moans will not be suppressed as I can feel the aftershocks and the tightening of my body around the egg still deep inside.

Resting the side of my face against my bound arm I blink my eyes slowly focusing on her face…waiting…watching
 
Her sounds are music to me. My own release follows almost all at once and I moan into the wetness before me. My hands hold her, keeping her still, wringing each bit of pleasure that I can manage from her body until she finally pushes through the delirium and out to the other side. I stop and glance up, my eyes taking her in...like a snap shot. She is beautiful and flushed, her eyes half closed as she comes back to earth. Comes back to me.

Good girl.

My legs are wobbly as I rise to untie her. My mind is on soothing, on bringing her completely back, on focusing her mind on the here and now. With no words, I scoop her up and carry her to my bed, dropping her into the softness. My nails go to her nipples, plucking off the wax that has hardened there. Eventually, the pinkness is uncovered, slightly swollen from play. I climb into the bed and wrap my arms around her, my hands stroking from shoulder to hip, calming, soothing.

How are you? I did not hurt, did I?
 
*My mind comes slowly back to clarity. I feel her move me to the bed, feel her nails on me and press up to her touch as it sends little shivers through my spent body. Her arms around me are delight, comfort, safety. I snuggle closer, my face pressing to the side of her neck, my lips lightly brushing against her skin.

I think about her words and the pleased feeling they have given me…she said I am a good girl. Such a strange reaction to such simple words. I already want to hear them again.

Her touch is hypnotic, soothing and sure. I let myself melt into her, my body relaxing, my hands slowly moving to touch her. The feel of velvet under my hands keeps me from her skin and for a moment I wish it away.

How are you? I did not hurt, did I?

I tilt my head back and look up into her face. Wondering for a moment at her questions. I shake my head slowly back and forth*

No, my Luna…you did not hurt me. Far from it…
 
My mouth quirks into a quiet grin at her words.

Good. I worry sometimes and though I tried very hard to maintain some semblance of control...my voice drops to a whisper...it was harder than I had thought.

My eyes drift closed as I inhale her scent, feel her cuddled next to me.

You will come back and play again, yes?
 
Oh yes, Miss Luna...if you'll have me...

*I gaze at her for a moment then snuggle back into the curve of her neck. I inhale her scent, letting it fill my lungs and my psyche*
 
Silence settles over us like a cloud, keeping us cocooned within my special room's walls. I know I should release her from this spot, allow her to go home and get herself back on track but I am greedy and don't want to. Eventually, I open my brown eyes and tilt my head so that my lips brush her forehead.

Sweet one, when you are ready to go, go. I will be here...or I will come sniffing behind you like the wolf I am, never fear. Thank you for giving me this gift. You please me, greatly.
 
*Sighing softly I prepare to pull myself away from her side. I am reluctant to go, but I know I must. I sit up and lean over her, my silvery hair falling to create a curtain around our faces. My fingertips brush lightly over her lips and I glance up into her eyes, my voice a bare whisper*

Thank you, Miss Luna... *I bend to feather my lips across hers, taking a hint of her with me. I slip from her bed and pause at the entrance to this secluded place to look back at her. There are things I would say, but they would make me look the fool. Instead I smile and raise my fingers to my lips, blowing a kiss across the room to her* ...until next we speak...

*I turn and hurry out, grabbing up my robe and the silver chain I left in the main room as I leave her Den. I stop once outside and take a deep breath of air. I am sorry to be leaving, and yet I take with me the warmth of her pleasure with me and the hope of time spent together again soon*
 
I wait until she is gone, wait until her scent fades and then I get up from my bed. Stripping out of the catsuit, I kick it away to be tended to a bit later. My inner thighs are coated with my own orgasmic juices and I know a shower is needed. I step back into the main room, pulling down the sign that allowed no one else to play and head for the little hidden room.

A shower, fresh clothing and then...maybe I will get around to visiting other people...

A heavy sigh as I step inside the small shower room...

Then again, maybe not...
 
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