Bright Ideas

"Trust is the first of many lessons.
I never left your side"

We walk the trails, circling around to the archway, then back, taking a new trail. I want to show you what I know is there. The tree. The tree is incredible for many reasons, but it's most striking characteristic is the 90 degree bend in the trunk. The diameter of it is perfect for wrapping your arms around. Your eyes sparkle with that evil glimmer, as you stand in front of the tree. That evil look that makes me tremble with arousal and fear. It is not a real fear, but more of an anticipation.

"Tree, slave."

It is all you need to say. I have been well trained in your pleasures, the one word commands something I am quite used to.

I walk to the tree, leaning over the angle of the tree, I wrap my arms around the trunk, clasping my hands. My short black skirt, lifts and settles as the gentle wind catches it time after time. Thong panties do nothing to protect my ass from the cool breeze. My cunt wet from the time you walked off the plane is now drenched, seeping onto the lips of my cunt. My breasts crushed to the tree, the nipple clamps you instructed me to wear biting into my flesh.

Watching you over my shoulder, I see you pull the blindfold from your pocket. Your wicked grin the last thing I see before my world goes black behind the blindfold.

You lift my skirt, rubbing soft, gentle strokes on the snow white cheeks, as you lean down, whispering softly to me..."Who owns this ass?"

My breath catches, as you ask the same question you've asked so many times online. Your breath streaming past my ear, your voice sounding through my brain.

"You, Master, You own that ass."

Your fingers slip beneath the thin strip of material that runs between my thighs. I feel you hesitate, then slip two fingers deep into my cunt, whispering "My cunt! My cunt is so wet!" Your voice chuckling.

"For You, Master!" I can't help but wiggle, your touch stirring my need, my desire.

Your fingers withdraw from my cunt, at the same instant your hand slaps at my ass. One, two, three, four solid slaps, as I squirm, wriggling up the tree. Your voice loud and strong, "Still!" I tremble, blushing deep red, surely someone will hear you. My mind races with thoughts.

Your hand, softly caressing the handprints you left on my ass, rubbing the pain down, allowing me to breath for a moment. You lean into me, pressing your hardness to my thigh. Whispered tones "My sweet cunt, feel what you do to me. Feel how hard you make your Master."

My thigh presses harder, rubbing against your Levis, moans falling from my lips. You step behind me, caressing my body, as you release the first of the clamps. My nipple engorges with blood, screaming out in agony. My hips press tight against the tree, my eyes closed, blowing at the pain.

A noise, a snap, listening, heart pounding furiously. Who is there, where did you go? A soft cry "Master, are you there?" Nothing. No breaths but my own. No movement, only that of the wind. I start to let go of the tree, my hands lifting quickly for the blindfold. Hands reach out and grab me. Moving my arms behind me. "Master?" Still nothing.

My sight gone, other senses more aware, and yet, all I hear is the thumping of my heart, the ragged breaths I draw.

Panic setting in. I struggle hard, working to free myself from this voiceless, breathless attacker. Screaming loud, praying for God to save me from this 'thing'. Strong hands envelop me, wrapping tight around my body and my arms. A tickling at my cheek, that familiar scent, shudders.

"My slave, trust is the first of many lessons. I never left your side. You could not see me and so thought I was not with you. I was here, watching you. Watching you struggle and delighting in your spirit. Never, slave, never doubt my presence whether I am with you in person or in heart"

You wrap your fingers in my hair. I feel the tugging, turning my face to yours. Warm breath caressing my cheeks, as your lips converge on mine.

1998 indigo

Read my Guestbook! Sign my Guestbook!

1999 - 2001 - All rights reserved