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From: RopeBinder <RopeBinder@aol.com>
Subject: Sun Showers, Part 1 of 2, By RopeBinder (BDSM, Mf)
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Sun Showers
By RopeBinder and Angie


Part I...By Angie

It was such a beautiful Monday that she took the day off and worked in her
tiny yard.  Yard work finished, she thought about a show but decided to wash
her car, as long as the sun was out.  The recent rains had kept her from
washing it all month.  Dressed in cut-at-the-thigh cutoffs and a tiny, cropped
T-shirt she scrubbed away not noticing the man who had pulled his car up
across the street.

He sat in his car and watched the small blonde girl and was sure she was the
one.  When she stooped low to scrub her car, her shirt rode up her torso, and
he could see her round firm breasts and the smooth skin of her back and sides.
  
When she finished, she unplugged the hose and walked to the rear of the house.
He got out of his car and followed.  When he arrived in the backyard, she was
gone.  He saw the screen door to the back of the house and entered quietly.
She saw him standing confidently in the hallway.  She stared at him for a long
time.  He looked towards the bedroom, and she slowly walked to it, never
taking her eyes from his.

She stood facing him, against the wall.  He gently took her wrists and held
them over her head.  He then pulled the crop-top up and off of her and threw
it behind him on the floor.  She reached up with both hands and held onto the
cleats embedded into the wall.  He unzipped her jeans as far as they would
unzip.  He grabbed two handfuls of her soft belly and sides and squeezed until
her flesh oozed from his fingers and tore on his fingernails.  Over and over
and over again he took handfuls of her anywhere her skin was loose enough to
pinch.  She shook, and her eyes filled with tears, but her gaze never left
his.  At times, her feet left the ground, as he held her by her soft
underbelly in his strong fingertips.  His hands became slippery, as the marks
he was causing began to run with the oils that her skin was leaking.  Pinching
both nipples with four fingers and a thumb, he lifted and pulled away at her
nipples with such force that his hands shook from the effort.  She moaned, as
tears rolled down her face, but did not kick or turn loose of the cleats.  He
let her go only to pinch her just below her armpits with all his strength.
This time she wailed loudly, and each time she ran out of air he jerked his
pincers again.  Finally, she let go of the cleats, and he let her fall in a
heap on the floor of her room.  He turned and walked away...

"Jeffrey," he heard her say, as he left her back porch...

They had finally met.


Part II...By Angie

He got halfway to his car and noticed the bum throwing a shopper throwaway
paper on her wet driveway.  Bending and picking up the paper, he turned again
towards the backyard and went back into the small house.  He found her where
he had left her, curled in a ball on the floor of her room, still sniffling
and whimpering.  He grabbed her by her short blonde hair and pulled her to her
feet.  She looked at him through teary eyes and sniffed her nose once.  He
dragged her to a wooden chair, sat down and draped her on her back over his
lap.  Her chest was a messy field of finger marks.  He took the newspaper from
his back pocket and slipped off the rubberband throwing the paper aside.
Taking the rubber band in one hand and stretching it between his thumb and
forefinger he pulled the length back with his other hand, like an archer's
bow, and snapped it on her nipple.  The force of the tiny impact made her
scream through her tears and her legs and stomach muscles tensed with the
intensely directed pain.  Her nipple turned an even deeper red.  He found
another, less abused, spot on the aureole and snapped the band again.  Then he
worked the other nipple.  Eventually, the force of the snapping lost its
impact on her tortured tits.  He looked down at her tender tummy and snapped
her several times on her soft underbelly below her navel.  Despite her pleas
for him to stop, he continued snapping unmarked spots of her most subtle flesh
until the rubberband finally broke.

He could smell her now.  Her breathing was shallow and quick.  Her tiny denim
cut-offs were barely covering her, when he pulled them completely off.  Next,
he turned her naked body over his knee and spanked her as hard as he could
with his bare hand.  Forty or fifty times his hand came down on her crimson
cheeks.  When he could no longer lift his hand, he turned her around and began
to spank her again using the other hand.  Holding her tightly by the hair with
his tired right hand, he redoubled his efforts with his fresh left hand.
Eventually, his hand was as warm as her bottom.  She had stopped jerking so
much with each stroke.  He could smell her stronger now.  When he could raise
his arm no more, he stood.  She tumbled, naked, onto the hard wood floor.  Her
body was in a state of near exhaustion as she lie there too weak to move.  He
stood and went to the kitchen and filled a large bowl with ice and returned.
He laid the bowl on the bed, sat next to it and let the cool ice comfort his
aching hands as he watched her lie there and breathe, whimper, sniff and moan.
There was no air in this back room, and the unseasonably warm day made it
stifling.  He took a piece of ice and sucked on it.  After forty minutes or
so, the warmth of his hands turned the bowl of ice into ice water.

She finally found enough strength to raise her head, but she didn't see him on
the bed.  Slowly she pushed herself to her hands and knees.  She was sweating
from head to toe, and the welts on her chest and tummy felt like clamps still
attached.  She could feel the swelling in both cheeks of her butt, as she
rocked back and forth on her hands and knees.  Feeling enough strength to
stand, she was shocked at the sudden splash of ice water across her back and
head.  The cold water on her hot sweaty skin forced her to scream, as her
breath left her...like she'd been slugged in the stomach.  She fell like a ton
of bricks, not fully comprehending what had hit her.

He walked to her and pulled her, by her hair, to her feet.  Taking her back to
the wall, he raised her arms again to the cleat.  This time, he tied her
wrists with a leather strap.  He stepped back and spoke the first words
between them all afternoon.  "And now we begin," he told her.  She saw him
through blurry eyes.  Her body shook.  She was ready.


Part III...By RopeBinder

He left the room for a moment and returned with a small, straight-backed
wooden chair from the kitchen.  He placed it several paces in front of her and
slung his leg over the seat.  He folded his arms on the back of the seat, as
he faced her.  He seemed contemplating and sprung out of the seat before he
even had time to get comfortable.  He'd forgotten something...unlike him.

He left the room, and she heard drawers and cabinets throughout the house
opening and closing.  Ten minutes later, he appeared with hands full of
hardware, nails, rope, hooks, eyebolts and a hammer.  Dropping to his knees,
beneath her, he tapped the wall at her feet.  He could smell her.  Her sex was
running down her inner thighs.  He sensed her cautiously parting her legs.
Perhaps she did need him, but not now...much to do.  Tap...tap...tap until he
found the studs in the wall.  Then the loud pounding of nails echoed in her
head.  Why did her head hurt?  Why was she so exhausted?

Two nails, each one pace outside her feet, and he was done.  With two strands
of nylon cord, he tightly wrapped her ankles, around and around, then
stretched them to the nail posts.  Her weight was fully on her shoulders and
wrists now.  Her feet dangled precariously inches from the floor.  Now he
could relax a bit.  Again, he climbed over the chair, sitting backwards and
watched her fidget.

She needed this time, alone but not alone, tied helplessly, exposed, aching.
Both of them needed to think.  Although spontaneous, they'd put much thought
into this day.

An hour later, he rose from the chair and approached her.  He had stared at
her the entire time, his mind sometimes on her, sometimes elsewhere, but she
was beautiful, especially now.  Tears streaked her cheeks, moisture filled her
nostrils, whimpers escaped her lips.  He dabbed her face with his
handkerchief, and she pressed her cheek into the back of his hand.  He kissed
her on both cheeks, then briefly on her lips.  She'd been crying for so long
that her face and lips were on fire.  His hands traced a line from her
cheekbones to her neck and across her shoulders.  Rounding her shoulders, he
tightened his grip on the tender flesh of her armpits.  She flinched, then
grimaced, as he pressed his fingers together tightly, moving from one spot to
the next, but always on her sensitive underarms.  After some time, his vise
grip turned to brushing with his fingernails.  Then he traveled further to her
nipples and started over.  This time, the pinching was followed by pulling and
twisting.  In his excitement, he found himself biting her cheeks and neck.
She tried to kiss him, but he pushed her away with his chin and bit harder
into her neck.  Her nipples were turning purple and white.  He'd been
torturing them for almost twenty minutes.  She was ready for the nipple
clamps.

Normally, he was very careful with his tweezer-style nipple clamps.  When
tightened fully, they can pierce the skin.  But, she was special.  He grabbed
one nipple, then the other and placed the pincers around her knotted tips.  He
slid the rings farther and farther toward her nipples until the clamps were
firmly attached.  Then, he slid them another eighth of an inch, for good
measure.  She bit her lower lip, but remained silent.  He left the room once
more, this time for his car.

He returned carrying a small gym bag.  He pulled out a much smaller bag, full
of alligator clips, miniature clothespins and paper binders.  He dumped the
clips onto the floor at her feet and grabbed a handful before rising to his
feet.  He looked deeply into her eyes.  Her body glistened with sweat.  He
brushed her hair from her eyes and traced his hand down her face to her belly.
Then, one by one, he fastened the clips.  He started with her tender underarms
and continued down her sides and across her belly.  Then, he worked back to
her breasts and covered them fully with a dozen clips.  Finally, he decorated
the insides of her thighs, from her knees to her crotch with a litter of the
tiny-teethed monsters.  He decorated her like a tree.  She shook in pain, but
the pain soon dulled.  They both knew the true pain would come later.  He sat
down on the bed and searched his bag, as if taking inventory.  He pulled out
the crop and climbed onto the wooden chair again.

This time he stared more curiously, just long enough to let the clamps do
their work.  After a time, they would choke off enough blood, from dozens of
points on her body, that their removal would mimic tiny piercings.  Her
whimpers and gyrations fascinated him.  Her outer shell was a proud, almost
disinterested captive, as if her suffering were familiar to her, but her body
said otherwise.  Glistening, contorted skin and a heaving chest made her look
wanton...on fire.  Each time he touched her, her skin burned his fingers.
Further down, the betrayal of moisture trickling down her inner thighs, with
droplets on the floor beneath her, said she was nothing without sex.  Her body
pulsed in unison with her throbbing clitoris, as she hung from the cleat.  She
was desperate for human touch, any touch, whether it be the bite of a clamp,
the sting of a whip or the friction of his cock impaling her.

He rose, moving the chair aside.  He traced the insides of her legs, from
ankle to crotch, with the flimsy leather at the crop's tip.  Each time he
stoked her sex, the leather gathered more of her wetness.  Ultimately, the
crop shined, and he drew it to within an inch of his nose, inhaling her.  The
mix of leather and moisture made him dizzy.  He dropped the crop to the floor
and moved closer.  Their eyes were inches apart; their bodies fractions.  She
gathered her strength and gazed at him.  He returned her stare with one not of
comfort, but of understanding, and he reached behind her tiny waist and pulled
her to him.  He reeled her in the few inches that her bonds allowed and
clenched her tightly.  She bit her lower lip, as the clamps and clips bent and
twisted between them.  He manipulated the clips with his torso, pulling her
closer and swaying gingerly from side to side.  The friction gave the clamps
new life.  She moaned, but neither heard it.  Then he kissed her, as he had
wanted to from the moment he saw her.

He couldn't remember the last time he desired like he did now.  Their kiss
lasted forever.  With each gyration of their bodies, new flames sparked
beneath the clamps.  Had she not been tied, she would have dropped in a heap
on the floor when he backed away.  Had he not concentrated on balance, he
might have done the same.  Instead, he bent down and picked up the crop and,
with a rapidly flicking wrist, tested each of the clamps with the crop.  The
blows came harder and harder until, one by one, he whipped the clamps from her
body.  With each clamp that flew from her tortured body, there was a new flow
of blood that burned beneath her flesh.  Several times he stopped to stroke
her with his fingertips.  It was amazing how hard and crisp he could swing the
crop to knock off the clamps without touching her skin…until he reached her
nipples, that is.

Finally, the majority of her torso was visible.  A half dozen clamps remained,
one on each nipple and several more on the tender folds between her legs.
Small blotches of redness decorated her skin.  He wanted to caress her sides
and stomach, but there wasn't time for that right now.  Her journey was far
from over.  Her head sagged against her weary shoulders.  Her arms and sides
burned from hanging.  It had been over two hours now.  He turned his attention
to her nipples.

He removed the first clamp with his fingers.  She jerked her head backward and
hissed, sucking in as much air as possible.  He covered her burning nipple
with his mouth and sucked fervently.  He rolled his tongue around the tip and
bathed the front part of her breast with his mouth.  Her nipple was so hot
that it seemed to explode onto his tongue.  He grabbed it between his teeth
and sucked it further into his mouth before clamping down tightly.  His tongue
danced lightly along the front of her nipple as he chewed it harder and
harder.  He could have bitten it off, but her cries told him it was time to
move on.  He reluctantly released his grip and focused on her left nipple.  He
removed this clamp with his teeth.  Although pain seared though her nerve
endings, she greatly anticipated his tongue swabbing her swollen bud.  She
thrashed in anger as he stood back just watching her...watching her
disappointment.  Instead, he grabbed both her nipples between his fingers and
thumb and pressed.  He pulled her to him and spoke for the first time in over
two hours, "You're doing very well.  Are you having fun?"


Part IV...By RopeBinder

Her nipples were a mixture of red-hot and ice cold.  Visually, they were an
abstraction of pink, red, purple and white.  He twisted them forcefully and
playfully between his strong, lean fingers.  Then, he cupped her breasts and
leaned down to tantalize them with his lips, teeth and tongue.  She strained
wildly, bucking against the wall, propelling her midsection towards his touch.
Sliding his hands behind her back, he begin a slow decent with his mouth,
tracing a line from her chest to her stomach, with his hands exploring her
back.  Her muscles tensed and pulsed, pushing gasps of air from her lungs.
She was too exciting.  He was loosing his composure.  He had to slow down.
Breathe...breathe...

He lingered near her belly button.  Such a fascinating part of the anatomy, he
thought, one of the only bits of flesh impossible to get one's teeth around.
He tried anyway, making a game of it.  His cock was rigid, pressing against
his jeans.  Her pussy intoxicated the room.  Tiny blond curls matted against
her vulva, slick from hours of secretion.  Her pussy lips pulsed between the
clips that trapped them.  Most violently, her blood engorged clit fought to
expand the cruel metal teeth clamping it.  With one last dart of his tongue
into her belly button, he headed south, straight for her pussy, then detouring
to her left knee.

For the next few minutes, he cleaned her legs, which were slickly covered with
body oil and sweat.  He lapped caringly.  He'd not imagined this sweetness.
He didn't know what to expect.  He cleaned her thoroughly, from knee to crotch
and took a deep breath before he touched her pussy for the first time.  His
tongue dodged from clip to clip, then flicked each one in succession.  She
hissed again, but he ignored her.  He removed the clips from back to front
with his teeth.  Only the clamp on her clit remained.  He addressed her bare
lips more vigorously, lapping, sucking and nibbling.  She tensed her thighs,
squeezing out a steady flow of liquid.  He took the tensing as a signal and
stopped.  She uttered her first recognizable cry, "No...pleeease!!!"  He
waited, before starting again.  Each time she tensed, he stopped.  Each time
he brought her closer to the edge.  Soon, her pleading turned to a steady
moan.  She slumped wearily, hanging from the cleat.  Her shoulders burned and
her body throbbed in pain, but, more than anything else, she wanted to
cum…desperately.

He rose to his feet.  The sexual tension was killing him.  She looked so
distraught.  She sobbed silently.  This time, he saw something very different
in her eyes that he had not seen before.  Perplexing…interesting…she had
changed in some way.  Pulling his T-shirt from his belted waist, he pulled it
over his head and removed it.  He kissed her again, longer and more
passionately than before.  Body heat melded their chests and stomachs
together.  There was no tentativeness between their tongues.  He wanted to
help her cum.

He dropped to his knees and released her ankles.  With her legs straight down,
she barely reached the floor.  He relieved her burden by picking up both legs
and resting them on his shoulders.  His attention was captivated by the clip
extending from her clit.  He toyed with it, flicking his tongue over it and
grabbing it with his lips.  He slid it between his lips and let it recoil from
his grip by pulling his head backward.  Finally, he removed the clip with his
teeth and spit it on the floor.  She recoiled violently, her head and buttocks
banging against the wall.  Pain shot through her most tender nerve endings.
He chased her, wrapping his lips and teeth around her painfully swollen clit.
He licked and sucked until she began kicking her legs, then he sucked harder.
She exploded into his mouth and against his dancing tongue.  He hung on,
despite her bucking.  She thought she couldn't take anymore.  Her clit felt
too sensitive now, but she couldn't escape.  The friction on her raw insides
made her ravenous.  The scene made him delirious.  She came again.

He dropped her in a heap against the wall.  He feet should have touched
ground, but they didn't.  She tried to curl herself into a ball, but, in his
haste to lower his pants, he didn't notice.  Kicking the denim from his
ankles, he grabbed the backs of her thighs and pulled them up and out.
Piercing her with a quick stroke, they collaborated a rhythm and bucked
slowly, savoring the moment.  He had never felt anything so good as he felt at
that moment.  Had her pussy not been on fire, she could have fallen asleep.
She was exhausted, but the embers would not extinguish.  She clenched his
swollen cock with each stroke, trying to suck life from it.  Although
animalistic, their lovemaking was steady and deliberate.  The tightening in
his balls came suddenly, and then he splashed inside her with a groan.

He stood, leaning against her, with his limp cock inside her, before gathering
enough strength to move.  Then, he pressed his body against hers and untied
the leather strip that had melded with the skin on her wrists.  He held her up
with his weight against hers and massaged her tender wrists.  Then, he swept
her legs in his left arm and her shoulders in his right and carried her to
bed.  He lay her on top of the comforter and crawled next to her.  He pulled
her closely, trying to touch her with each and every part of his body and
closed his eyes.


Copyright © 1994 by RopeBinder.  All rights reserved.
Do not reprint or post without permission.

Email to RopeBinder@aol.com

The RopeBinder Library at
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Coffeehouse/4040/



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