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From: txpleasure@aol.com (TXPleasure)
Subject: The Loft....a D/s, BDSM journey

ditto on the disclaimers...(should I be writing one of my own??)

The Loft

She heard a knock, and then commotion at the door as she stepped out of
the shower.  But she didn't even bother to open and look out.  He would
take care of whatever was occurring.  He took care of everything.  She
toweled off her long legs, worked her way up her thighs and lightly patted
her damp pussy, the hairs curly and dark.  She slid the towel around to
buff her back, and then wrapped her hair up to finish later.  She checked
her face carefully in the mirror, tweezing a
stray eyebrow lash and starting a delicate ritual of care for her skin. 
Everything must be perfect for the evening, he had made that implicitly
clear.

She let the towel fall and her hair fell around her shoulders.  She ran
long manicured nails through the wet locks.  As she combed it out, she
watched herself in the mirror.  She wanted it to fall just like this
later, the effect would be dizzying.  As the blowdryer whipped strands of
hair around her face, she thought of how it would look, worn down, free,
flying in the breeze.  Orders were orders, and she soon had it wound and
braided and pinned up.  Elegant makeup and rest of ritual complete, she
dropped the towel around her and walked out of the bathroom of her hotel
suite.

He had an apartment in town, but up to now he had spent his time here. 
She speculated about his place, but had come to no concrete ideas.  She
looked around, expected him to be sitting by the window, he was gone.  A
beautiful bouquet of flowers sat on the table, along with several boxes,
one of them quite large, and an envelope.

Naked, warm and scented from the shower, she danced with glee as she
ripped open the envelope.  "Tonight will be one to remember.  We have a
dinner engagement and you will wear what's in the boxes.  See you in the
lobby at 630pm.  Until Then, Sir."  The smaller boxes contained luscious
dark blue lace lingerie...matching bra, panties, garter and stockings.  In
the large box was a dark green velvet formal, short length, soft
shoulders, tight fitting, low cut, yet very elegant.  High heels to match
and a smaller box, with a double strand of pearls.  

She checked the time, and dressed quickly.  Even then, she was careful. 
She critiqued each piece of clothing.  She checked the straightness of the
garter, the smoothness of the stockings.  Everything fit perfectly.  She
watched in the mirror as she fastened the lace bra between her breasts. 
Her nipples were already hard, and the lace exasperated that problem.  She
stepped into the formal, and held her breath as she zipped it up.  The fit
was perfect. Such was his magic.  She could spend a day trying on clothes
and none of them fit.  He sends clothes she's never seen and the fit is
like a glove.  One last look in the mirror, then she reached for her
coordinating clutch purse, and she walked quickly to the elevator.

She stood in the elevator contemplating the evening.  She looked around,
expecting a fairy godmother at any moment.  Instead the doors opened, she
walked out and there he stood, waiting.  She walked quickly towards him,
only to have him hold up his hand, staying her.  He whispered to her
"stand still", and proceeded to walk slowly around her, checking,
examining.  The circle he walked around her tightened and he reached out
to put a firm hand on her ass.  She remained frozen, eyes looking forward,
trying not to look to see who might be witnessing his inspection.  The
hand felt like a *sizing* exercise..and then, just as quickly, he gathered
her in his embrace, snuggling at her neck, holding her close and
whispering once again, telling her how well she had done, how well she
would be rewarded.

He led her swiftly out of the lobby and into his waiting car.  Talk in the
car was light, bantering.  The music was a bit loud, and drowned the
silences.  He didn't touch her, or look towards her, just drove, fast.  As
they turned down the lane to the club, he smiled, and turned to her. 
"This event is important.  You will smile and be pleasant to all the men,
greet all the women, and remain as quiet as possible otherwise.  Stay
within an arm's reach of me.  And stay prepared for
the unexpected.  Now, shall we go have a delightful evening?"

The attendant helped her from the car, and she waited for him to put his
hand in the small of her back and propel her down the walk to the doors. 

Their entrance was simple and quiet.  A few friends greeted him at the
door, and then they made their way quickly through the important hellos of
the night.  Drinks were served.  He ordered her scotch and water.  She
hated scotch and water.  She drank it anyway.  As they were seated for
dinner, she was dismayed to find herself seated several places away and
across from him.  He simply smiled, lifted his glass, and toasted her
obvious discomfort at her dining companions.  One very conceited oaf and
the other,  an older, grey haired gentleman that couldn't hear, but
obviously saw well, he stared at her the better part of the meal.

The band began to play later.  They danced a few, and were enjoying
another scotch, or at least he was, as the conceited oaf was making his
way across the room.  He quickly set down his drink, took away hers, and
pointed her to the door.  

"It is time to go, my Princess," as he whisked her out and towards the
parking area.  

His car retrieved, they headed down the tree lined lane.

"Pull your dress up..to your waist.  I'd like to see what's been hidden
from me during dinner."

She quickly squirmed to pull the dress to her waist.  He reached over with
his hands to spread her knees further apart.  His fingers trailed upwards
a bit, then back down.  

"There, that will be nice for the drive." 

And they drove and drove.  She was totally lost, had no idea where they
were.  Finally, he pulls into an almost empty parking garage and parks the
car.  He gets out, walks around to her door, and practically lifts her out
of the car.  He quickly pulls her into a tight embrace, kissing her
deeply.  She passionately returns the kisses, but before she can wrap her
arms around him, he pulls away, and begins to lead her to the elevators.

They ride the lift in silence.  He stood with his left arm around her
waist, standing close.  His hands roam down from her back to her ass, he
feels and squeezes at random.  He grins in mischief.  She is so calm, so
collected.  He wonders at what point he will break through that exterior. 
They both know what she's agreed to, what can and most likely will happen.
 He takes her calmness as the sign that she is settled in her decision,
and he plans, thinks, and cultivates ideas.  

The elevator opens into a large room.  A loft.  His.  

With a gentle nudge to her back, he escorts her into the open area.  High
glass windows ring the entire apartment.  No curtains, but high enough
that only a microscope from a much higher building could voyeur.  And
there were no taller buildings in the area.  The room was illuminated with
the full moon.  To the left, she saw a very industrial kitchen.  All metal
and chrome.  Every item in it's place.  But an extensive collection of
cookware that was obviously used, though well cared for as well. 
Partitions that didn't run all the way to the ceiling...walls without
ceilings, almost.  His arm swept out from his side, "Would you like the
tour?"

Smiling and without reserve, she nodded her head.  He guided her towards
the middle of the loft...a large leather sectional in black leather sat in
the middle of the room on a white rug.  The centerpiece was a massive
collection of electronics.  A complete, absolutely everything
entertainment wall.  All neatly and artfully organized.  Sleek, modern,
polished chrome.  Around to the right was a small maze of rooms.  A
bedroom, open shower done in concrete and chrome, a bathroom, all Spanish
brick tile, with a freestanding claw footed bathtub to one side.  

As her heels clicked on the tile, he spun to take her in a passionate
embrace.  He kissed deeply, taking her breath away, sucking the life from
her.  She gasps for air as he releases her from the kiss.  She can barely
hear as he whispers of the delights of the evening...."wine, spanking,
close dancing, deprivation, control...and the lack of it.<short
silence..then in a more pronounced yet soft tone>  I accept the submission
that you offer...and will use it for our mutual pleasure."

As he turned from her, his hands having arranged her arms during the
embrace, her arms came to her back, and he held them there, tightly, as he
guided her back to the bedroom.  They stood looking at it together.  She
saw a soft bed, dark blue comforter, sheets,  pillows, pine wood..a four
poster bed, reminicent of mountain cabins...matching dark wood dresser
with a large mirror, a tall narrow chest with small drawers, and another
wooden cabinet, for what purpose she did not know.  He saw the posters she
would be spread between.  He envisioned her eyes
when he would open the wooden chest to show her the alternatives for the
evening. 
He left her standing there..and went to sit on the side of the bed.  He
watched as she stood there.  Did she grow nervous, anxious?  He wondered.

He let her stand there until she finally looked towards him.  "Come, sit
in front of me on the floor."  He reached into a nightstand and took out a
large comb.  She knelt in front of him, her back to his knees.  He gently
pulled out the combs holding her hair in place.  He combed gently, letting
the long hair fall around her shoulders.  When he had it all combed out,
he swept it to one side of her neck and unzipped her dress.  He slipped
the soft smooth material off her shoulders, and down her arms.  The dress
pinned her arms to her sides as he exposed her dark blue lace bra.  His
fingers trailed in admiration at the smoothness of her skin.  As he let
his fingers trail along her skin, he felt her shudder.  He smiled.  Once
again, he reached into the nightstand.  With a pair of scissors in one
hand, he quickly reached down and pulled at the lace covering her nipples.
  He twisted out the fabric clear of her skin, and cut.  Without pause, he
cut at the other nipple,
exposing both to the cool air of the loft.  The nipples responded nicely,
he thought.

He rubbed her shoulders thoughtfully before pulling her up and around,
seating her on his knee.  He kissed on her, starting at the base of her
neck and covering her with soft kisses.  His hand roamed over her
hardening nipples, brushing against them.  Feeling them give under his
hand, hard and sensitive.  He playfully batted at them as his kisses grew
harder, more insistent.  She could feel him growing hard against her leg. 
She sighed and moaned as he pulled away and stood her on her feet.

"Walk to the bureau.  In the top left drawer is a set of cuffs, soft
lined, four of them.  Bring them to me.  Slowly."

He watched her walk carefully over, seeing the front of her reflected in
the mirror as she bent to draw open the drawer.  She pulled out the cuffs,
and looked at the other items in the drawer as she did.  She pushed the
drawer closed with her hip as she spun around with the cuffs in hand.  
She walked over and stood before him.  He held out his hands, accepting
the cuffs, and grabbing hold of her wrists as he did.  The cuffs went on
smoothly.  Lined with soft fleece and made with
supple leather, they were tight, but not uncomfortable.  There were d
rings embedded in the design.  He dropped to his knees as she stood there.
 He slipped off her heels, rolled down her stockings and pulled them free.
 The ankle cuffs were tighter, but still safe.  She felt him run his
fingers between the cuffs and her skin.  "Pull up your dress."  She knelt
down and worked the tight dress up her hips, displaying the well fitted
garter and matching briefs.  With a swift, certain movement, he flashed
the scissors, cut loose the panties and ripped them out from under the
garter.  "Very nice," he said, laughing a little at her sudden panic.  He
pulled her close, soothing her, calming her back down.  Her resolve was
dwindling, tied in some way to the amount of clothing she had on,
obviously.  
"Want a drink?"  "Yes, Please" "Wine?" "Would be really nice"

He strode quickly to the kitchen, calling to her to follow..stand in the
doorway, talk to him.  He chatted almost casually about the evening, the
people they had met, the topics discussed. He called her to him.  He
reached over and with a forceful tug, pulled the dress down around her
hips.  He lifted her to the counter, placing her bare ass on the cold
metal of the cabinet top.  He smiled at her audible gasp as he pulled the
dress off around her feet.  He handed her the wine glass, and offered a
toast.

"To gifts" and the glasses chinked.

He stood between her legs, watching her eyes as she drank.  He played with
the outside of her thighs, and gradually worked his fingers up between her
legs, spreading her lips.  He ran the bottom of his glass up through the
wetness.  He tilted the glass, letting drops of wine spill onto her pussy.
 He laughed out loud as she jumped..spilling even more wine over the two
of them.  He bent down and with his tongue, began to bathe her, clean up
the wine, and taste the sweet nectar that would be flowing so heavily in
just a little while.

"That was quite a mess, dear princess.  Even a princess is expected to
hold herself with decorum, proper and dignified.  Spilling wine is
careless."

He pulled her off the cabinet, and wrenched her arms behind her back,
holding them high, and marched her back into the bedroom.  With swift,
well planned movements, he pulled cords from a drawer, slipped them into D
rings and quickly tied her wrists to the top corners of the bed.  He
pulled at an ankle, felt her resistance, and quickly reached up to slap at
her thigh.  "Enough", and bound her ankles.  She stood spread, exposed,
her pussy level with the high mattress, her
arms extended, her nipples hard and exposed through the cutout lace.  He
walked around her and opened the wooden chest.  Suddenly, displayed before
her eyes was a large, extensive collection of whips, crops, floggers,
leather bindings, plugs, vibrators.  

"Choose now, Princess" 
"No, no" she pleaded, "don't make me choose.  I'll do whatever you wish. 
Please, Sir, pleeeaassee" 
Her cries died slowly as she saw the look of steel in his eyes. 
"Very well then, don't choose.  I'll choose for you, and for me" And he
grinned in evil amusement as he pulled the blindfold from his pocket.  He
walked around behind her and blindfolded her.  And then returned to the
chest. 
"Hmmmmmmmm, this shall do nicely."  He chose a leather crop and walked
behind her.  He used the end of the crop to check how wet she was.  The
end slipped quickly between her lips, but was not overly wet when
withdrawn.  That would change, he thought.

He left her there, blindfolded and wondering, as he took off his jacket,
his shirt and pants, hanging them neatly in the closet.  His dark briefs
defined a tight ass, strong legs and powerful build.  He grew harder as
his hand waved the crop in the air, testing the swing.  Without warning,
he struck her thigh.  Her gasp, followed by a cry, was his gauge. The next
stroke was softer, easier, as was the next.  He built up gradually by the
7th, and then leaned back.  The cris cross of red slashes decorated her
ass quite well, he thought.  He ran the end of the crop between her legs. 
When he brought it to his lips, he could lick the moisture off.  He poured
warm oil on his hands, and began to massage her ass and thighs, coating
the red marks, being tender, whispering to her, complimenting her.

He reached up and released the ropes holding her spread.  She dropped
easily to the bed, and he gently nudged from behind to move her to the
middle of the soft bed.  The comforter had been pulled aside, and she slid
effortlessly on the satin.  He crawled up behind her, pushing her legs up
underneath her, cradling her into a small ball, and then pulled her up on
all fours.  His hands were all over her, feeling her dangling breasts,
running his hands over the ass now in his face.  He unsnapped her bra and
slipped it off, unbuckled the garter and removed it as well.  His hands
never left her body, coating her with oil, sliding in and out of her ass
and all around her thighs.  She rolled over at his nudge.  He was
impressed by how quickly she learned his body language.  Even blindfolded,
she felt his movements, and answered as in a well versed song.

He rolled her over and straddled her.  Her hands moved up to feel his
waist, his thighs.  He gathered her hands and placed them under her head.
He whispered "don't move them, and I won't have to bind them".  He slipped
down and between her legs, holding her apart with his strong arms as his
tongue began to taste at the well of nectar.  She bucked as his tongue
found her clit.  Suddenly all the control, all the willpower left her. 
She was a maddened, wild, unbridled movement of passion.  She squirmed
under his hold, wanting to thrust upwards, screaming out, crying out.  She
begged him to stop while her body begged him to go faster.  She
lost herself in her cries and screams as he continued the slow patient
quenching of his appetite.  When he could feel that she was going to
explode any minute, he finally raised his head long enough to say "Cum for
me, baby, cum now."  He immediately bent down to catch the flow of her cum
in his mouth.  He felt her juice running down his chin, coating her,
covering his face.  He continued to lick at her as her tremors died down. 
He slid off the bed, and pulled off his briefs.

He nestled next to her..his hard cock nudging her.  With his arms around
her, he sat up, pulling her to face him, sitting in his lap.  He lifted
her closer, lowering her wet, slippery pussy onto his hard shaft.  She
bent her legs back behind her as he fell back on his back.  She rode him
slowly, leaning back and sitting straight up on his cock.  She rocked back
and forth, feeling him deep inside of her.  She leaned forward, letting
her hard tits press into his chest.  He reached up and pulled off the
blindfold.  She locked her gaze on his eyes as they rolled over together. 
He reached down and brought her legs to the side of her head.  He rode her
hard, slamming his hard cock into her, timing his strokes to the recovery
of each scream.  They came together, pushing and straining against each
other, each trying to get closer and tighter as their bodies exploded in
unison.  He continued to fuck her, slowing, yet still deeply and steadily.
 She came again, rolling against him, screaming and crying out his name. 
He stroked her still, feeling her pussy tighten against him as she came. 
He slowed and finally let his full weight fall onto her, burying his cock
inside of her.  She squeezed at him with her inner muscles.  With no
visible movement, they continued to fuck as the waves of her orgasm
trembled through them both.  Finally, both of them spent and exhausted, he
withdrew from her and rolled to her side.  Her cries had died to purring,
soft moans.  He smiled and kissed her, gently.  

They lay there, recovering.  He wrapped her in the dark blue comforter and
gently pulled her to a sitting position.  He slid to his feet, and
gathered her up.  They shuffled together to the couch, turning on the
system, filling the loft with the steady beat of music videos.  He left
her lying there, her eyes hazy and drifting.  

He returned from the kitchen with orange juice, and fruit and cheese.  He
sat the tray on the table within the sectional.  He stretched out her
legs, pulled her close to him and smiled.  His hand reached for the
remote, and they settled in for a movie, comfortable in each other's arms.
 Warm in their recent memories.  

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