The Invitation
Chapter 2

by Ann and Sir Richard

Ann was finally still. She had stopped listening to the desire that ran through her body but that had been easy in comparison to her doubts, her wondering. She had planned this evening but all along she had wondered how he would react. Would he be in some measure displeased at her boldness? Would he follow her request or in some way both delicious and a bit scary, depart from that which she had asked?

Ann focused on her breathing, trying to slow it, trying to clear her mind. She had taken the last step she would direct. She knelt before the fire and began to frame the coming surrender which she had planned with her body and her mind.

Twice she quivered. The first time as the tension went out of her body. The second time as her mind found a quiet place.

I sat there contemplating this gorgeous woman. She had offered me her body and herself. This was a marvelous gift. At the risk of being facetious this was an offer that could not be refused.

At the same time she had attempted to orchestrate the scene far beyond what was appropriate for a submissive. She had defined the location and the music. She had even described how she was to be tied and how we were to be positioned when I entered her. My lovely and generous Ann was trying to top from the bottom and this was unpardonable.

Now don't get me wrong. The scene she had created; the fire in the hearth, the candles, the wine, the fresh damp-scented air through the open windows, even the music; was very romantic. In fact, had she suggested this sort of a set up when we weren't playing, I would probably have been delighted to provide them. After all, I loved this woman and wanted to do everything I could to make her happy. The same was true of the ropes and the intercourse she had suggested. With her elbows tied and her shoulders rolled back her beautiful breasts and exquisite nipples would be thrust into a prominence that would please and delight me. I could think of nothing more delightful than her bound body straddling mine while we lovingly consummated our mutual pleasure.

No, the problem wasn't what she had set up but that she had done it on her own and expected me to follow. She had told me, her lover, her dominant partner, and her master to "enjoy and watch." She had repeatedly used the phrase "I want..." As much as I would have enjoyed the evening she had planned, I knew that I would have to remind her of our respective roles in our relationship.

We might have the romantic evening she so desired but it would not be the way she had described it, nor in the setting she had constructed, and it would not be in keeping with the tempo she had tried to set. First I would render her helpless, then I would punish her for attempting to control me, then we might enjoy the evening and our bodies. I might even do something to increase her sense of helplessness and reinforce her delicious submissiveness that we both enjoyed so much.

I began by placing a rope across the back of her neck, over her shoulders, back under her armpits and across her upper back, looping over the rope at the back of her neck and tying it in the middle of her back with the long ends dangling down. This formed sort of a figure eight over her shoulders and upper back. Then I grabbed her wrist brought it up between her shoulder blades and tied it.

It wasn't the initial departure from her suggested tie that roused Ann. Rather it was the jarring way in which he moved her wrist that echoed through her stillness. It was like a rock thrown into quiet waters and the first ripple from the impact hit her. The words rushed out in reaction.

As I reached for the other wrist she protested. "Hey, this isn't how I wanted to be tied."

Without pausing I fastened the second wrist and replied, "You are lovely, sweet and generous but you are my sub and do not get to decide unilaterally how we play. I will tie you to suit my desires, and you my gorgeous submissive can relax and enjoy just how helpless you will become."

Ann's eyes opened wide as she realized what I had said.

She had played out this evening in her mind's eye for several days leading up to this moment. The chance that he might take a course other than the one she had suggested had always registered as a possibility but she had never fully entertained the possibilities or the consequences.

Ann caught her breath after her words and inhaled sharply, the quiet breathing interrupted. Eyes that just a moment ago were wide open quickly closed as she threw her head back. With her wrists now tied between her shoulder blades, the muscles in her arms and shoulders protested.

I still had the long ends of the rope so I brought them around under her armpits and tied the one from under the right armpit to the loop around her left shoulder and did the opposite with the other end. This ensured that no matter how flexible she was, or how hard she rolled her shoulders, the figure eight would not slip off.

Ann's mind consciously raced to get ahead of the questions about what was next, what he had implied, what he would do. She needed to absorb the strain the rope was creating, she needed to let go again. She inhaled sharply as he further looped the ropes.

With her hands secured, I considered wrapping rope around the base of her breasts to constrict them and make them more sensitive. Ann had medium-sized breasts which she sometimes wished were larger, but which I found very appealing. I felt, though, that rope around the base of a woman's breasts might best be reserved for those large breasted porn stars and that on Ann, it would either have to be fastened much too tightly to stay in place, or if tied reasonably tight, it would slip as she writhed under me. I decided instead to fashion a rope bra that would constrict her lovely breasts enough to make the flesh very sensitive to my touch but not so much that circulation would be seriously constricted.

Suiting action to the thought, I wrapped a long rope twice around her torso below her breasts and tied it off. Then I continued with another two wraps above her breasts pressing down on the very tops of her softly swelling mounds. I tied this off behind her back well below her helpless fingers. Then, using three shorter bits of rope I cinched the wraps in the middle and on both sides of her breasts. I also took these ropes up through the front of the figure eight tightening them so that the lower wraps pulled upwards supporting her breasts and so that the entire set of ropes, both around her hands and around her breasts, was pulled tight.

Ann breathed against the ropes as they encircled her torso and breasts. She inhaled deeply seeking the restrictive sensation which in truth she loved. Her head still back and eyes still closed, she inhaled again and made what adjustment she could to her wrists while all but losing herself in the sensation of the rope wrapped about her torso. She breathed deeply again and a small sound that was half passion and half groan rose in her throat.

I said that the lower wraps were pulled up supporting her breasts which was true but, in fact, they didn't need much support. Ann worked hard at maintaining her natural beauty and her breasts where charming. I also found her nipples to be absolutely exquisite, so before securing her further I took the time to fondle her breasts and to gently squeeze and caress them. After a few moments I let my thumbs gently drift up over her nipples while I kissed her mouth, her neck, and her shoulders.

Even as the small sounds Ann made faded, he touched her breast with a caress. She inhaled deeply with a shuddering of her chest which he could feel as he touched her. She greeted the touch to her nipples with as much of a roll of her shoulders as her bondage would allow.

Ann inclined her head to one side as he kissed her and caught her breath to add to her stillness until the kiss was broken. She felt his warm breath on the side of her neck. When his lips found the pulse at the base of her neck she shuddered ever so gently. ‘Touch me again,’ she thought, ‘please touch me.’

Her protests had died as she realized what she’d done and her natural submissiveness came to the surface. Now, as I kissed the tops of her breasts and gently nuzzled her cleavage she moaned softly and arched her back thrusting her breasts towards me. Not being an absolute fool I lowered my mouth to first one nipple and then the other licking with my tongue and squeezing, gently, with my lips. I sensed from her body language, that she was becoming aroused and probably wet (I might have said damp but, at least in my own mind, this wasn't the time for modesty). It was time to change the venue.

I picked up Ann in my arms cradling her and walked into her bedroom and placed her gently onto the bed. Then I returned to the living room, closed the windows (in case the rain picked up), blew out the candles and checked to ensure that the fire was well screened and would burn down without starting the house on fire.

Ann no longer thought about how she had hoped this evening would develop. Now alone in the bedroom, she began to twist about on the bed trying to find a knot or loose end she could use to work her way to freedom. She was certain he had tied her well knowing she would try to get free. It was her nature to do so and as inevitable as that morning’s sunrise. Her fingers methodically sought a means to freedom even as she rolled and tried to use friction against the bed sheets to drag a loop or end free.

Rolling onto her back, she considered getting off the bed and walking to try and gain an instrument or leverage that would help. Looking about the room, she realized it would be a fruitless effort. With her chest pushed up by her arms bound against her back, she closed her eyes and let her head drop back.

She breathed against the ropes encircling her chest as she accepted her helplessness with both a thrill and some trepidation. Things were now out of her control to either influence or direct and she had no way to take a measure of what was coming. She trusted him, trusted him to take her for a ride along the edge. Ann quivered from head to toe in lustful anticipation.

With the living room more or less secured, I picked up the wine and glass and the rest of the rope and bondage gear and returned to the bedroom.

I explained to Ann why I had been displeased with her and that though I might enjoy everything she had planned it should have been by mutual consent and not by trying to top from the bottom. I told her that I was going to punish her for what she had done and that she should be happy that my heart wasn't really a "gaijin" or barbarian heart as she had called it. I don’t know where Ann had picked up that particular Japanese word; she certainly didn't, at least to my knowledge, speak the language.

The Japanese are, on the whole, a very racist people. The word "gaijin" means barbarian but in the Japanese usage it is also applied to mean foreigner or stranger. Thus to the Japanese all foreigners are barbarians. I told Ann, "When I punish you, you can thank your lucky stars that I don’t have a gaijin heart as you so accused me. If I were such a barbarian I would use a cane or a whip to properly teach you humility instead of my hand."

Ann listened to his words, afraid to speak. She had meant no insult by using the word gaijin but the subtly of the message she had hoped to deliver seemed lost. Her reading of the book SHOGUN had led her to the video of the same name starring Richard Chamberlain. Having meant only to spark her master's lust, she realized that she had missed the mark and in some fashion would pay a price

Of course this last was pure nonsense. Neither Ann nor I was into S&M and though the spanking I planned might hurt, it was something well within the limits we had set for ourselves. Even if we hadn't discussed the difference between B&D and S&M I would never mark that precious body Ann had so willingly placed under my control.

I played a bit with her roped breasts and firm nipples before flipping her over and dragging her across my lap. Now I might have justified playing with her nipples as building her sexual frustration as a part of her punishment but, in truth, I did it more for my pleasure than as any part of a great plan. Still, it did arouse her further, as her moans and writhing evidenced.

Still with her arms beneath her, Ann watched his eyes as he spoke. That familiar look of relentlessness was there and it sent another shiver through her. She closed her eyes as he touched her breast and she moaned as he stroked and teased her nipples. She writhed under his touch, half in lust, half in hope that the sight of her eagerness would somehow affect what he would do next.

When I dragged her across my lap she tried to roll off and protested volubly but with her wrists roped up between her shoulders she had very little ability to twist away.

As soon as he dragged her across his lap, Ann knew what was to come. She tried desperately to roll away to avoid the humiliation and pain. Clearly she had overplayed her hand a great deal more than she had anticipated.

I had deliberately avoided roping her legs as I would enjoy her futile kicks. I positioned her across my lap with her upper torso, including those delightfully sensitive breasts and rock hard nipples resting on the bed and began to spank her.

With the first impact, Ann bucked and kicked and protested aloud only to have her words run over by his.

I kept up a running commentary, punctuating each word with a swat. "Sweet little submissives (two swats, long word) don’t tell their masters what sort of music to bring although they may beg for a certain type. Slave girls do not tell their masters how they are to be tied. Slave girls do not tell their masters to ‘watch and enjoy’ nor do they decide what clothes to remove and when."

Now this last was a bit much. Ann could remove any clothes she chose and at any time and it would please me. Still the spanking was meant to drive home a point (if that's the right term) and I needed ammunition to make it last as long as I liked. I continued, "My sweet sub does not tell her master the words ‘I want’ although she may beg for his touch."

I won't bore you with every word, but you get the idea. I went through as long a list of her sins as I could remember winding up with, "Slave girls never ever call their masters barbarians (another two swat word) and most of all, my sweet lovely sub, you are never again to try to control our scenes by topping from the bottom!"

The pain of each slap soon brought tears to her eyes and any coherent utterances she might make were lost. All conscious thought was driven from her mind as she reacted to each slap. She flinched and struggled while he hit her, pulling hard at the bonds, squirming sideways in a futile effort to avoid the next blow and the next blow

By this time her gorgeous ass (she had a great ass, neither small nor large, but well toned and inviting) had gone from its usual white to pink, then light red and bright red and was bordering on purple. Her cries had gone from protests to cries of pain as I struck her, and had, by now, dissolved in uncontrolled sobs. Although I wanted to be certain she understood the lesson, I didn't want to continue beyond what would be arousing, painful of course, but arousing still.

She cried out sorrowfully with her pleases and animal groans giving way to sobs that continued even after he ceased spanking her. In spite of her apparent outward state, the first small quiver and twitch had rolled through Ann's body as it responded with a measure of lust which had not yet registered on her mind.

Accordingly I stopped and stroked her hot cheeks letting my fingers dip between her thighs to tease the lips of her pussy. I slid her further onto the bed, which incidentally rubbed her sensitive breasts and turgid nipples across the nubby comforter she had, and went to the bathroom for the bottle of her body lotion.

When I returned I poured some of the lotion on each cheek. It must have been cold on that hot flesh because Ann jerked as if I’d zapped her with electricity. I rubbed the lotion into her buns, soothing them a bit and enjoying the slippery sensations as I gently ran the hand that had caused her so much pain over the reddened flesh.

A peacefulness came over Ann, it arrived unbidden, unexpected. The end of the pain, the soothing touch of his hands. She lay still in the aftermath, an occasional sob or a quiver still escaped but in her helplessness and pain she was given over, gone.

At this point the bondage stories say I should flip her on her back, ignore her bound hands and sore buns and plunge into her until I am satisfied. Oh yeah! Like I would do that to this woman whose smile melts my heart; this glorious creature who trusts me enough to let me take her and control her. I may not be the proverbial rocket scientist but I am not stupid (or so I maintain). Instead I rolled her onto her side and pulled her to me wrapping my arms around her and slowly stroking and kissing her.

Her sobs slowed and stopped as I stroked her body and kissed away her tears. Ann caught her breath, blew her nose into the Kleenex I held to her nose and softly whispered, "I'm sorry Master." I kissed her and went to work on the ropes holding her wrists. When her arms were free I rubbed them and then brought them in front of her. I tied her wrists together and, slipped out from under her. I pulled down the comforter and the top sheet and laid her gently on her back on the bed. I lifted the tail of the rope holding her wrists and pulled them above her head tying them to the head board. Then I fastened each ankle to the bottom sides of the bed frame leaving her in a stretched but comfortable Y shape.

She was under his spell, hypnotized by what was happening to her body. She felt exalted, weirdly giddy. The pain of the spanking had pierced her like a knife, and she hadn't been frightened at all, not even while she writhed and sobbed. A dreamy calm came over her, a release, a relaxation and awareness of her own arousal.

I smiled at Ann and played with her breasts still held in the rope bra for a few minutes until I was certain her arousal canceled out the sting I was certain she still felt in her buttocks. Then I said, "You know Ann, I have always wanted to shave you so that I didn't get pubic hair in my teeth when I ate you but you have always been reluctant because you were afraid of what the other women would say in the showers at your gym."

Ann's brain roused from its near dreamlike state with his words. A questioning look crossed her face, her eyes focused, her lips parted and she held her breath.

I said, "Tonight you are going to beg me to shave you."

"Oh no I'm not!" shot from her lips with the full force of the now released breath. Her eyes flared, she tried to rise from her bondage.

"Ann, you are my slave girl and I think you will beg. Just think of how absolutely helpless you are and let me know when you change your mind." I said as I ran my fingers over her ribs.

"No tickling," Ann shouted as she squirmed under his fingers. She tugged fruitlessly against the bindings that held her to the bed, frantic, hating to be tickled now when she most wanted the pleasure of his touch.

I, of course, ignored her and moved my fingers up to her arm pits where I dug in.

"No, that's not fair," she cried while thrashing and trying to toss his hands from their place of contact. Trying next to hold still, to ignore the tickling, try to conquer with her mind what her body could not avoid. It was futile.

It only took a few more seconds before she was giggling and trying, unsuccessfully I might add, to twist away from my fingers. I continued to tickle her until she managed to say "OK, OK." I paused and slid down the bed.

"That doesn't sound like begging."

"You are a real bastard, you know?" gasped a nearly breathless Ann

Since the question seemed rhetorical I didn't answer but grabbed the nearest ankle and ran my fingers ever so gently over the arch.

She screamed with laughter and gasped, "OK, I beg you to shave me."

"Not sincere enough," I said as I shifted to the sole of her foot.

Ann shrieked, but managed to gasp out, "Oh please Master I beg you to shave me."

I halted for a minute and asked, "What was that my luscious slave girl?"

Ann took the cue and said, "Oh please, mighty Master, your slave begs you to shave her pussy so that she will be bare and embarrassed the next time she goes to the gym."

Well, as much as I enjoyed her laughter that did seem like pretty sincere begging so I stood up and said, "Well, if you insist my dear."

Fortunately this wasn't the first time I had spent the night with Ann and I had left some shaving gear in the bathroom along with my toothbrush. I went into the bathroom and retrieved the shaving gear, a damp, warm washcloth and a pair of scissors. A Dom’s work is never done.

Well, this wasn't really work. I did love cunnilingus and did object to Ann's pubic hair which invariably got caught in my teeth. It wasn’t enough to discourage me from eating her to orgasm but it was enough so that it was annoying and, after all, a slave should never annoy her master.

Ann threw her head back and after tugging futilely against the rope one last time, resigned herself to what was to come. ‘Just get it over with,’ she thought.

I don't think I need to detail the next few moments. Most of the hair was snipped off, the stubble was softened with the washcloth and I very carefully shaved her. I will admit that the softening with the washcloth did take some time and require considerable rubbing of her groin.

The snipping with the small scissors did little to assuage her feelings. Only the fear of getting cut kept her from thrashing to make things difficult. It was the hot wash cloth that changed her mindset. The process was very real to her now and the excessive rubbing indicated just where he had in mind to take her. She raised her head long enough to see the intentness in his eyes, and to feel the care of his touch. Her head dropped back with her eyes closed as she considered that maybe he would do future maintenance as well. She rolled the slack in the ropes about her wrists wishing the ropes were tighter and under his gentle touch, began to slip away again. The need to quiver grew as he worked and afraid to move, she channeled her energy and returning lust into a groan.

Despite her pique she moaned appreciatively as I rubbed. When she had been shaved, I used the same washcloth to clean away any remaining shaving cream and decided to test the finished product.

I slid down and lapped at her groin not forgetting to test her inner thighs (which hadn't actually needed any shaving, but one can never be too careful) and the juncture between her thighs and her mound as well as her slit itself. She tasted wonderful; sort of a combination of fresh and sweet and musky. Yes, I know fresh and musky sound contradictory. All I can suggest to you is that you think of a very fine wine with subtle but differing flavors and scents that combine to make a marvelous vintage. This wasn't wine, of course, but it was nectar full of flavors and scents that combined to make it a heady and delicious mixture. I worked at her for several minutes until I felt her body begin to stiffen as she approached orgasm. At that point I stopped and said, "Well the shaving seems to be a success."

As I stood, Ann pulled hard against the ropes and cried, "Come back here you SOB! I am so close." Her head fell back to the bed with a whimper of frustration.

That was hardly the proper way to address her master and certainly not smart when she was in my ropes and unable to do anything to satisfy herself. I made these points as I returned to her groin and swiped my tongue up her slit, circled her clit and plunged into her canal. When I felt that pre-orgasmic stiffening I stopped again.

Ann moaned but had gotten the idea and begged, "Please Master I am so close. Take mercy on your slave and let her come."

Well, I could have kept this up for hours, but I loved this woman. I slid back to her groin and concentrated on her clitoris.

Ann threw her head against the mattress, arching as much as she dared into his ministrations. She exhaled raggedly and in the noise she made, she pushed the unintelligible words, "please don't stop; please don't stop." Ann fought to hold back the orgasm that was coming, fought the quivers that heralded it, fought to hold still and finally, overwhelmed, lost the battle between her mind and her body. Mind gone, her body bucked and moaned as the orgasm rolled over her.

She came explosively, battering my nose with her pubic bone when I didn't move quickly enough. I delighted in hearing the long drawn out moans she made when she came and watching her body arch rigidly in my ropes.

Now after a woman comes from clitoral stimulation, her clit is often so overly sensitive that further stimulation can be painful. Accordingly as I waited for her to come down and her body to relax I moved up on the bed and hugged her to me and told her how marvelous she was and how lucky I was to have her submit to me.

She gave him one of her crooked smiles and said, "Thank you Master." Ann relaxed into the rope and his hug as aftershocks echoed strongly through her body. Her body ruled her mind now and her mind inventoried her body, feeling, not thinking.

I began to stroke her body and kiss her face with particular attention to her ears and the juncture of her jaw line and neck. I worked my way down her neck and across her collar bone. Eventually I reached her lovely roped breasts which I fondled for a few minutes and then began to kiss. I moved up to her nipples and lashed them with my tongue much as I'd lashed at her clitoris.

Ann moaned and writhed with his ministrations. There was no thinking about what he would do next, no wishing for something to happen. She was all reaction now, their time together made her a roadmap to him and to her delight he traveled a route of his own choosing. To his delight, she reacted with eagerness.

As I continued to attend to her breasts my hand dropped down and cupped and stroked her mound. After a suitable time I slid one and then two fingers into her very wet and tight canal. Moving very gently and slowly, always mindful of how delicate this flesh was, I stroked the inside of her canal searching for the slightly firmer flesh that was her G spot.

Ann was just conscious enough to understand what his intent now was. Understanding and expecting it in no way diminished her reaction. When he made contact with her G spot her entire body lurched. Touched as she was about to inhale, the air filled her lungs, pressed out against the rope encircling her chest and throbbed in her throat with a sound which seemed half whimper, half sob.

I carefully kept those two fingers in place, stroking and building her arousal as I slid down her body kissing her lovely flat stomach, her belly button, and her slightly rounded abdomen.

Unconsciously Ann wrapped her wrists in the slack of the ropes that ran to the headboard. Were it not for the tension and stretch she created in her bondage, the small quivers and twitches would have set her in such motion that she would have been a moving target. Such was her desire for her Master's touch that even subconsciously she sought it, aided it.

When I reached her vagina I used my left hand to further part her outer lips while continuing to stroke her G spot with the two fingers of my right hand. Her outer lips had grown engorged and open and as I manipulated them further apart her inner folds were exposed like some delicate flower. Her clit was hard with her arousal and stood exposed for my mouth. I lowered my mouth over her clit and gripped it gently but firmly between my lips, lashing rapidly at it with my tongue. If I had thought her first orgasm was an explosion, this must have been carpet bombing.

Ann climaxed almost immediately. The climax ran through her body so rapidly it seemed to strike every nerve, every muscle simultaneously. Her entire body went taut with muscle tension unrelated to the rope that bound her. Her gasp was audible and for a moment she was frozen in time and exploding pleasure.

This tension collapsed only to be replaced by waves of pleasure that left her arched, gasping and moaning unintelligible words. Time and again the tension fell from her body only to have another wave of pleasure sweep through her, tensing her body all over again.

Her moans were interspersed with mostly unintelligible word like "Oh God!" and "Yes" and her body not only arched rigidly, it seemed to quiver as her muscles grew even tighter. If I hadn't known the cause of all this I would have thought that Ann was having a stroke and I was reminded again of why the French called a female orgasm ‘la petit mort’ (the little death.) Those French aren't reliable allies but they certainly know their way around sexual descriptions.

The arching, muscle tension and sounds lessened and muted but still Ann's body echoed with quivers and aftershocks. It was clear at moments like this how the bondage added to Ann's pleasure as her body tugged and quivered to the very ends of her extended limbs. The lids of her closed eyes seemed almost to flutter, her head would toss about, her fingers and toes curled spasmodically with each aftershock.

After a time the aftershocks muted and Ann's ragged breathing quieted. Small tremors could still be seen but she seemed peaceful and nearly exhausted after the orgasm she had just experienced.

I was, as you might imagine, rather smug and pleased with myself for the degree of pleasure I had managed to generate for my lovely Ann. I sat up and watched as she sank back to the bed with shudders coursing through her body signifying orgasmic aftershocks. She was sweaty, disheveled and had never been as beautiful as she was at that moment. As she continued to recover I untied her ankles, and then stretched out beside her. I gently stroked her hair from her face and asked, "Are we OK Ann?"

I looked up at him and smiled and said "We will be as soon as I feel you in me and your skin upon me."

My lord! The woman was insatiable. As it happened, however, I was very aroused and needy at that moment. All of the activities of the evening had been more than a little arousing and I was only too happy to enter her. I pulled her unbound legs apart and placed her knees on my shoulder so that as I moved up the bed her hips were rolled up presenting her very wet and very exposed pussy invitingly.

Ann looked at her Master's eyes as he approached her and lifted her legs over his shoulders. Lust she had inspired was shining in them and it thrilled her. It seemed to take the form of a small hot stone of desire that fell within her, that needed quenching, that needed the intimacy of the press of his body and the feel of him deep within her.

I swiped myself up and down her slit a couple of times to ensure adequate lubrication, though I think that she was so wet at the moment it was probably unnecessary. I wanted to enter her slowly prolonging that first stroke but, in truth, as soon as I felt her wet hot pussy grip at my penis I couldn't hold back and plunged into her. Typical male, I guess; and I blush to recall how eager I was. My only excuse is that several hours of arousal will do that to me. That and, of course, I am a male.

After that first hard plunge I was able to hold myself still as we both adjusted to the sensations and then begin a slow stroke that she matched. "I'm not going to last very long," I warned her.

Ann breathed a happy sigh as he entered her. It's OK. I do not think I could stand another orgasm after those last two. My pleasure now is to see yours."

Now in some dim dark recess of my brain I knew that this was nonsense. Ann was multi-orgasmic and could probably come five or six times but she was giving me permission to come without waiting for her third orgasm. I felt a familiar tightening in my balls and so, despite her generous offer, I reached between us and gently stroked and flicked at her clit.

We reached our climax at the same moment. She may have been faking it to please me but she would have had to have been a consummate actress as the gripping of her vaginal muscles on my penis were far beyond what I thought could be faked. I guess it doesn't really matter as we were both pretty worn out by that time.

When the moment came and Ann knew his orgasm was near, she closed her eyes and threw herself mentally and physically into the moment. She consciously worked the muscles of her pelvis as if to draw the climax from him. Her body seemed to go on automatic pilot and she offered herself up to the sensation. The hot stone of desire that she had sensed earlier fell into the pool of emotion that was so strong between them. It quenched itself with her orgasm which came on the heel of his. This orgasm was different from the others as it seemed to begin somewhere in the recesses of her brain and her emotions. When she threw her head back, she surrendered to it with an accompanying rush of satisfaction.

There was a final act to that night’s drama. As I let her legs slide I wrapped my arms around her and I rolled over so that she was on top. "You did say something about straddling me, didn't you?" I disingenuously asked.

As Ann sat astride her Master, an impish grin spread across her face. Wrists still tethered to the headboard, she pressed with her arms so that her chest lifted from contact with her Master. She then moved gently side to side as she lowered herself just enough to have her nipples graze across his chest. She pressed her bent legs alongside his hips and continued to move gently against him. "Perhaps Master would like me to straddle him in the morning?"

Without waiting for a reply, Ann leaned forward, nipped her Master's shoulder and slid to rest alongside him as she uttered a contented and tired sigh. She laid her thigh across his so that her pussy, dripping with their co-mingled fluids, pressed against him.

With her bound wrists still tethered, Ann did her best to tuck her head into my shoulder. She said simply, "Thank you Master." I reached up and untied her wrists and was fumbling around to find the knots to the rope bra.

"No... please Master, please leave it on."

"Won’t it be uncomfortable with the tight ropes around your chest all night?" I asked

"Perhaps a little, but in a good sort of way. I feel the ropes whenever I take a deep breath and my breasts feel every hair on your chest. Please leave it on so I can feel its touch all night long. Besides Master, it will make awaking in the morning all the more interesting."

What a remarkable woman. I stroked her body and told her again how special she was and how privileged I was to have her. I guess I repeated what I had told her earlier in the evening but I wasn't up to much original thought at the time and it seemed to resonate with her. She favored me with one of her brilliant smiles, kissed my chest and closed her eyes. And that's the last thing I remember about that evening.