Reading Time: 7minutes The woman is a dream. Her body is perfect, with the lips, eyes, and breasts of a goddess. She stands before and looks at me. I am bound in the shape of an X, arms stretched wide over my head, ankles fastened to the floor. I am naked and ashamed. She is too good for me, far above my class. Why is she here? Does she desire me or is she just tormenting me? I do not know. I almost hate her because she is so beautiful, so far away from me. I want to whip her, punish her for her beauty, but I am the one bound. She approaches.
“What is your deepest, darkest, most secret fantasy?” Those words bring a chill to anyone. To reveal something so private, so personal, is difficult. Yet that’s exactly what we have here. In each story, a narrator reveals his or her most private fantasy. In the grand tradition of fantasies, it is a _fantasy_ –it may or may not be realistic or even physically possible. It is not necessarily something the person would really want to experience in real life, but the illusion can be appealing. But no matter how bizarre or incomprehensible, fantasies reveal something intimate about ourselves. So, learn and enjoy. And send me your fantasies!
Thomas has a Bondage Fantasy – Story by The Flogmaster
The woman is a dream. Her body is perfect, with the lips, eyes, and breasts of a goddess. She stands before and looks at me. I am bound in the shape of an X, arms stretched wide over my head, ankles fastened to the floor. I am naked and ashamed. She is too good for me, far above my class. Why is she here? Does she desire me or is she just tormenting me? I do not know. I almost hate her because she is so beautiful, so far away from me. I want to whip her, punish her for her beauty, but I am the one bound. She approaches.
She plays with me. She touches my penis and my balls. She runs her hands over my body, feeling every nuance. My skin is alive with her touch. I want her. She moves away. I can see she has brought her toys: whips, paddles, crops, and other punishment devices. She playfully shows them to me. I grow afraid when she approaches again but she is so beautiful I
cannot breathe, cannot turn away. I look into her eyes, I smell her scent she is so close, but I cannot touch her.
She is dressed in ordinary working clothes, but very stylish. A plain brown skirt that goes to her knees. When she turns quickly I catch glimpses of her tan thighs. She wears a tan cotton shirt on top, with a white vest over that, open in the front. I can see the mounds of her breasts through the shirt. Her breasts are not large but very round and soft. She is very feminine.
Her hair is dark and short and she spins and dances before me, like a child who changes her mind minute by minute. She approaches and then spins away, then comes to me from behind. I cannot know what she is thinking, her face is open and her smile is soft but her eyes giggle at me and I wonder if she is only teasing me.
“Do you want me?” she says softly, and I cannot help but nod. “What will you do for me?” she asks. “Anything,” I answer, breathless with anticipation.
“Do you want to see me naked?” she murmurs, passing me and touching my cheek with her gentle hand. I moan and nod my head. My cock is painfully alive in front of me and I blush with shame as it bobbles after her.
Slowly she fingers the vest. “Shall I take this off?”
“Yes, please!”
“It will cost you.”
“Anything, anything, please, let me look at you,” I beg.
“Very well,” she says slowly, looking at me as though she does not believe me. She picks up a short leather belt and licks it. I am frightened now but just the thought of seeing her naked is too much for me. I want her. I must have her. But I am powerless.
She slips off the vest. I can see more of her chest, now. She turns and undulates her body so I can see her. She is beautiful, the small breasts straining against her shirt. She turns to me now and smiles, placing the leather belt between her teeth. With her hands she cups and squeezes her breasts, exactly what I wanted to do.
Now she approaches, the belt still in her mouth. She brings it close to me, her lips brushing against my chest, my stomach, my trembling cock. She takes the belt in her hand now and slowly touches my penis with it. Lightly she spanks my cock, then harder. My cock grows and throbs at her touch. She whips me harder and faster. I moan and throw my head backward. I can’t bear to see myself so aroused. It is too shameful. I am nothing more than an animal, a giant cock pulsing without control.
“Shall I take off my shirt?” she whispers, and I can only nod. The tip of my cock is dripping and I feel like it will burst at any second, but she whips me several more times, sharp blows that sting and make my penis shrink slightly.
She moves away and begins to take off her shirt, spinning slowly, so her back is to me at the critical moment when her breasts are revealed. She is wearing a white bra, and her breasts look like they want to explode from their tight confinement. She smiles at my lust and approaches. “Are you ready to pay?” and reluctantly I nod, fearful of her belt.
But she moves away. At the couch she selects a small leather paddle, just a few inches wide, and returns. This time she attacks my bottom, going behind me where I cannot see her as it is dark behind me. Suddenly she smacks me, hard, the fierce stinging making me gasp. Tears well up in my eyes as she spanks me again and again, harder and faster until I
can barely breathe. I cannot move or stop the blows, only weep and beg for mercy.
When she stops I am so grateful. I want to cry. I am so tired. My body is covered with a thin sheen of sweat from all my tension and fear. She bounces in front of me and giggles mischievously. “Do you want to see more? Shall I take off my skirt?”
She swishes her skirt and flips it up briefly so I spot the white triangle of her panties.
“Yes, please,” I beg, my penis throbbing mercilessly now. My bottom is hot and tingles all over and I dread what is to come but with her it is worth the price. She turns away from me and slips down her skirt slowly, wiggling her hips back and forth so it drops down around her ankles. She daintily steps out of it, her pert bottom gently sheathed by a pair of large white cotton panties. She turns and my mouth goes dry seeing the soft fabric disappear so invitingly between her sleek legs. But she is moving now, bending over in front of the couch and fondling her toys. I watch her ass and pretend I do not know what she is doing.
She selects a large wooden paddle and comes back to me, her smile a teasing one. “My skirt is *very* expensive,” she whispers, and I groan and tug on my bonds. My bottom tingles in anticipation.
The paddling is loud and brutal, my buttocks sizzling under the punishment. She spanks me harder, rubbing my bottom occasionally to feel the heat she is generating. Now she reaches in front of me and takes my cock in her left hand and paddles me. She leans against me, under my left arm, her hand stroking my cock in a random, torturous manner. Her paddle does not stop but increases, spanking me so hard every blow makes my body jostle against hers. I can feel her breasts pressed against my side and my cock oozes liquid from the tip and it drips over her hand.
She takes her hand back and smears the moisture across my blazing bottom, her touch painful to me. Giggling, she takes the paddle in both hands and steps back and slams in into me as hard as she can about a dozen times. I can barely think when she is finished, my body writhing without my control.
“Can you afford more?” she says sweetly, daring me. Her hands hug her breasts and I nod in despair. I cannot have gone through all this for nothing. I must go the entire way. Her body is worth every stroke of discipline.
The bra slowly drops off, soft, round breasts coming into view. She comes close to, rubbing her nipples against mine, and then bouncing her breasts against my stiff penis. She takes my penis between her breasts and squeezes saying, “Why don’t you come now?” The invitation and the friction is too much. I know I should wait–the punishment coming will be much worse without the distraction of a stiff cock–but I cannot. I spurt into her breasts, the cream rising up beautifully between them and dripping over the top. There is a lot of it, because I have waited so long. Her breasts drip with my lotion and she rubs it in, playing with
her nipples and squeezing her breasts.
I dangle, panting, my cock shrinking, my body exhausted by a few seconds of incredible passion. But she is returning, this time with a leather riding crop. Tears pour down my face and I beg her to stop, but she just smiles and goes behind me. The first searing lash sends quivers throughout my entire body. I cannot stop shuddering. Again and again the lash descends. She crops my buttocks and my legs, and I can feel thick welts rising from her strokes. She leaves my ass burning and throbbing
and dances before me again.
“Not much left now,” she whispers. “Do you want it? It is priceless, you know.” I shrug, unable to resist. My cock has grown large again, ready for action. It throbs miserably and I waggle it at her, begging for relief.
The woman turns and takes down her panties, rolling them down slowly, letting me see the glorious mounds of her ass unobstructed for the first time. Her cheeks are so round and smooth, absolutely flawless, a gorgeous alabaster white. I long to smack her rump to a proper pinkness, but I am not in control here. The narrow crack of her ass descends to a hidden darkness that promises ecstacy, and I weep with distress and longing. She turns and her palm is covering her sex, though I can see
soft tendrils of dark hair at the edge of her hand.
She turns away again, smiling, and takes up a long, white cane. I groan, unable to hide my horror. My buttocks are raw and blistered. She cannot expect me to take the cane! It is too much, my body aches and my cock hurts it has been so well-used tonight.
With the proud bare globes of her sweet ass facing me the girl flexes the cane boldly, showing me how stiff and strong it is. It is too much for me to imagine how it will feel against my buttocks. I can only picture the stroke marks it will leave across her lily-white bottom. I wish I had the cane with her bending over and grasping her ankles in front of me. We’d see who’d tease who then!
She turns again, a delightful picture of innocent naughtiness, a naked nymph covering her sex with one hand, a sharp birch rod in the other, her breasts only partially hidden by her arms. Her face is a perfect blush of guilt and mischief. Her eyes look to the ground and briefly lift to mine.
“I think I’m ready for my caning, Master,” she whispers gently, holding the cane toward me.
My surprise and lust is so great I cannot contain myself, spurting my seed right then into the air and watching miserably as I dribble all over the carpet. The girl giggles and covers her mouth and blushes with shame. “I am sorry, Master,” she says bowing to me. “I should not have laughed. That will be an extra three strokes, don’t you think?” Her eyes are alive with humor, her expression serious.
She is close to me now as she unchains my bonds. I am free, though quite stiff and sore. My buttocks are raw, my cock abused. “Get in position,” I order roughly. She obeys and I lust mightily after that pretty white nymph ass I am about to thrash soundly. God, I am about to explode again! Quick, the cane! I must punish this naughty temptress before–
Coleen is a writer, photographer and film maker at Wasteland and Sssh.com.
Here at BDSMCafe.com, she is editor and curator of this comprehensive library of BDSM fiction, informational articles and other educational features that date back to the early days of the internet in 1996 when the site was first launched.
