That Weekend: Sunday

Sunday - Sensory Play and Sex

It WAS a good breakfast and, despite their meal at the restaurant the night before, they both had a healthy appetite.

When they returned to his, he suggested that she pack and then could she perhaps tidy downstairs as he got things ready upstairs?

Feeling both trusted and treated as his equal, she was happy to agree.

As he'd envisioned, all was ready soon after half past eleven. They began as the day before, in the kitchen.

"Strip for me."

Although spoken casually, she knew it was an order, to be obeyed without hesitation. Yes, she would do it, she would strip for him.

Standing naked, she automatically placed her hands on her head.

"Impressive. Now, reach behind and open your bottom cheeks."

She blinked, struggling to believe what she'd just heard.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

She answered by parting them as wide as she could.

"Now lean forwards. Wedge yourself against the table if that helps."

She expected the lube but not what he then put into her hands.

"This is a buttplug. It's made of rubber. It is the smallest I have. Hold it in your palms for a moment and then tell me what you think of it."

"It's very smooth and soft and flexible. It's got an odd shape with a wide circle of rubber at the back."

"Some people call that the flange. It's to stop the plug being drawn up into your body."

"... you mean... I can't."

He took the plug from her hands and held them.

"You don't have to consent to this. But first, hear me out. It's only a little wider than my thumb and much more squashable. It will be thoroughly lubed and, if you like, you can insert it yourself. That way you control how quickly it goes in and you can pause at any time if it feels uncomfortable."

She picked it up once again.

"But will it fit?"

"Yes. Do you remember what I did when I put you in the nappy position?" She went pale before nodding, "I used two fingers then. This is smaller."

She felt torn; she wasn't convinced. She wanted to please him, but her mind was made up. A thumb, fingers were one thing, this object was quite another. It was man-made, unnatural.

Her hesitation was obvious and he didn't want to ruin their relationship by bullying her... though perhaps, if... but then... He nodded and stood for a moment, deep in thought. His immediate idea, which he'd quickly discarded, had been to give her a spanking, re-establish his authority, if necessary break down her resistance. But she was no brat. Her reluctance was not a refusal, a provocation, a 'so, then make me.'

No, this required a very different approach. She might still say, 'no'; that was her right. But, from his own experience, ignorance and prejudice, as well as fear, can deprive someone of something they later come to relish.

He remembered his own attitude to rope-work. At first it had all been about complex knots tied to restrain. A lot of hard work when alternatives were easier. But then a single workshop had transformed his thinking. Afterwards, the rope became a means of communication, fostering trust, sensation, intimacy. These days he loved it. He paused his daydream; he had an idea.

Taking the offensive item from her, he pulled up a kitchen chair and sat down.

"I'd like you over my lap, please. I promised you that today was all about pleasure - and sex."

Grateful that the crisis had been avoided, she made herself comfortable, adjusting herself carefully so that her groin was over his and her legs were open, giving her Dominant full access to her pussy.

He began by caressing her bottom, even tickling her, stopping as soon as she began to pull away. Now he began to scratch her gently with his fingernails, before repeating the caress. Once more he tickled, then he scratched, then he caressed. She began to murmur to herself, "again, please, again." As he obliged, he ended his movements by circling his finger around her outer labia. Instantly she lifted her hips, wanting more. Again he complied, noting the first signs of moisture. He continued to circle for another minute before reaching into his pocket.

She felt the change of texture, this was no longer his finger. But then the sensations he was giving her intensified and she no longer cared what the source of her pleasure was, she simply wanted more of it.

Out of sight, he used the buttplug to prise open her inner lips, teasing her with it as he let it enter, twist and then withdraw. Now she was groaning, her orgasm building.

His smack was enough to bring a complaint: "No, don't stop now... please." He paused until he saw her relax before pushing the plug against her pussy once more. He pushed, rotated, withdrew, a pattern he repeated until, once again, she approached her climax.

This time he waited a little longer before using the object like a tiny dildo, penetrating her, using its flexibility to reach the parts of her pussy which made her sigh, moan or whimper the most. This time he did not deny her her orgasm, using the toy to prolong her climax.

As she basked in the afterglow, he pushed the buttplug deep inside her vagina, coating it with her juices. She groaned, ready to cum a second time.

However, now was the time to please her in another way. Shifting his grip, he used two fingers on his left hand to expose her anus before putting a single finger from his right hand into her mouth. She welcomed the visitor, sucking hard.

Still holding her open, he used the wet finger to tease around the hole, replicating the pattern he had used around her pussy lips.

Still sensitized from her climax, her body responded by moving against the moistened digit. Mirroring her gyrations, his finger pushed nearer to the entrance to her rectum, but never making any attempt to enter.

Reinserting the plug into her vagina, before extracting it a second time, he used the now dripping-wet toy to take over from his finger, tantalizing and teasing her anus until, once again, she reciprocated by pushing against it with ever increasing energy.

This novel stimulation, in an unfamiliar part of her body was driving her mad, she realised. All she wanted was for whatever it was to stop teasing her bottom hole and push inside.

Granting her wish, he thrust slowly until just the tip breached her defences. As he left it in place, he reached into his pocket and drew out a narrow plastic bottle. Undoing the cap with his unoccupied fingers, he squeezed a blob of liquid onto his palm.

Moving quickly he withdrew the plug from her bottom, coating it with the lube in his hand before re-inserting it into her bum. Now lubricated and still very much aroused, he was able to push the buttplug fully inside her with ease.

Reaching behind her, she instantly recognised the object.

"Is THAT what it was? You devious bugger. Don't you look so pleased with yourself," she added, smacking him playfully on his shoulder.

He did indeed allow himself a moment of silent self-congratulation, before giving her her next instruction.

"Now, my impudent sub, stand up straight for me and walk around the room."

Fully conscious of the intruder, she moved slowly. Yet, moments later she was able to say to him, "It feels... good."

"Yes, once you get accustomed to it, the nerve endings are stimulated and the pleasure begins."

"Let's dance."

As he hummed, "She'll be coming round the mountain," they began to move, a very odd couple, she totally naked, him in check shirt and jeans.

After a few minutes they stopped.

"How does it feel now?"

"Like it's no longer big enough. I can hardly feel it anymore."

"Look behind you, on the table, you have a choice."

When she turned she saw what she guessed was the next size up of what she was still holding inside her bottom, though only just! However, next to it was a silvery metal plug, with a jewel incorporated into the flange. Sizewise it looked about the same as the larger rubber buttplug.

So, should she go for ease or beauty?

She rather liked the idea of him paying careful attention to her bejewelled bottom.

"This one."

"An excellent choice, though two things to consider. Because it's metal, it is unyielding and requires a much thicker, longer-lasting lube. Silicone lube, in fact. The second is temperature. Some people see this as one of metal buttplugs' greatest attractions. There are so many nerves in the back passage that a cooled plug or even a warmed one adds a whole new dimension to anal play."

Somewhat alarmed, she was quick to respond: "Room temperature will be fine. Do you have some of that special lube?"

He grinned, "Quite by chance, I do."

Removing the original plug was tricky, now that the lube had dried, but with her help the replacement went in easily. Outlandishly proud of herself, she bent over in front of him, inviting and receiving a few delicious smacks on her bum.

She was amazed at how far she had come in such a short while! She couldn't help comparing her situation with the time when one predatory old man had seen her vulnerability and exploited it.

Then, her abuser had held all the power, overwhelming her natural reluctance to gratify his own desires, corrupting and confusing her innocent naivety shamelessly.

How different this was! She had chosen her play partner, found him to be utterly trustworthy and then consciously and deliberately put herself in his care. In return, he had opened up possibilities she wasn't even aware of, ensuring, above all, her safety and well-being. She found the thought strangely healing.

The journey upstairs was an adventure in itself. Walking behind her, he would instruct her to 'freeze' every few steps, using the opportunity to fondle, caress and warm her cheeks. Her excitement was getting out of control.

The bed was metal-framed, and as she lay on her stomach, he took hold of first her left ankle, then her right wrist and used Velcro ties to secure her to the anchor points. Understanding immediately that she could only escape if she safeworded, she nonetheless twisted and turned, partly to give herself chance to examine her surroundings, but also to see how he would react.

The sharp taps on her bottom were expected and he answered her with unrestrained laughter: "So, two days ago you were a nervous aspirant sub, now you've become a confident brat. Let's get you fastened down quickly, before you cause any more trouble. What are your safewords?"

Relaxing into the covers, she called out, cheekily, "Amber to ask, red to revoke consent."

Not taking any chances, he used both hands to grasp her left wrist, tying it loosely to the large carabiner attached to the bedhead.

"I noticed that you're left-handed. You should have enough freedom to undo yourself in an emergency but, just in case, I'm hanging these safety shears on a long loop, within reach. They are quite strong enough to cut through velcro straps. Now for your last limb - let's keep you under control, you bratty sub, you."

Unable to resist trying out her bonds, she discovered that, in fact, he had allowed her considerable freedom of movement. Even so, she felt completely in his power, even more so when he began to stroke her back with soft, sweeping movements.

As she sunk into the bed, she pictured a nervous horse or an anxious dog being calmed by its owner and soon her breathing deepened and her body became floppy as he undid knots in her back and shoulders she didn't even know she had.

She heard the swish-swish but it took her a while to register what was causing that characteristic sound. His words confirmed her worst fears.

"I think the time has come for me to cane you."

He let the words sink in before he continued, "but this way you'll love it. This technique is called 'bouncing,' and its purpose is to invigorate the skin and make it very sensitive indeed. Don't worry. As with everything, you have ultimate control, namely your safewords. Never be afraid to use them."

Yet again he was pushing her boundaries. Once more he was opening her mind to accepting yet more novel sensations.

Holding his left hand four inches above her shoulders, he used his right to tap her with the rattan rod, lifting it to meet the fixed hand. As he repeated the movement, the cane did indeed bounce over her body, the repeated impacts drawing blood to the surface of her skin. Relishing the sensation, she stretched and writhed. Pleased that she had responded so well, he gave her time to settle back down, noticing that her skin was now distinctly pink.

She'd loved it. The nearest thing she could liken it to was spending all day in the hot sun, soaking up the rays. Though what he'd done to her hadn't involved bottles or sprays of factor 50.

"I want to take you further into subspace today than you've ever gone before. Last time I got you there through impact play. This time I want to exploit your whole nervous system. For this it's better if I can help you to focus your attention on the sensation by removing distractions. So I would like to blindfold you now, do you consent?"

Again this was commonplace in the spas she visited and so she agreed immediately.

It began on her left shoulder and then progressed over her shoulder blade and down her spine - but what was it? Soft certainly, could she feel bristles?

The sensation that began on her right shoulder was totally different. It was abrasive, but not too much so. The movement mirrored the previous one, ending at the base of her spine.

Then it was something that she recognised straightaway, the silk slithering over her skin deliciously.

By the time he got to the fourth, fifth and sixth sources of stimulation she'd given up trying to guess what they were, her attention focused entirely on the ways in which her body reacted. As sensation piled upon sensation she was already drifting dreamily, her mind quiet, empty of even the slightest worry. At the same time her body felt primed, super sensitive, alert, no longer for pain, but for yet more mind-blowing torment.

She'd practically forgotten about the toy in her bum, so when she heard the buzzing sound, the last place she'd expected to feel it was on her anus. Actually the vibrator, she realised it was, wasn't, in fact, touching her at all. No, it was making contact with the metal up her arse!

My goodness me, it was like an electric shock, a lightning flash which began at its base and was conducted all the way up her spine. Thoroughly yanked out of contented lethargy, she felt every delicious twist and turn as he removed the butt plug.

As soon as she heard it drop into the wash box, she felt something wet and warm moving to take its place. My God, it was his tongue; he was licking her... there.

And it felt heavenly.

As so often before, he went beyond what she even thought possible, pushing the same wet, warm wicked tongue into the hole itself, the one still open after its previous occupant's recent departure.

"OOOHHHH". Her cry came from deep within her. Still slightly stunned, she was hardly aware of her bonds being untied.

Lifting his head, he spoke slowly.

"Now we need to get you lying on your back. Do you think you can roll over for me? Perhaps you should have a little stretch first."

She was stiff, but in a nice way and she found she was glad of his help as she manoeuvred herself.

"Amber, just need a wee."

"Fine, but I don't trust you down those stairs; you can use the camping toilet in your room. I'll come with you."

He did at least turn away, but the unmistakable sound of her relieving herself being overheard once again transformed something ordinary but private, into a moment of familiarity and intimacy.

As they both had a snack break, he set the scene for the next 30 minutes or so.

"I'm going to give you the experience of a lifetime. Would you like that?"

"Who wouldn't?"

"But in order to do so I want you to trust me once again. First, I'd like you on your back, as comfortable as we can make you. Then I want to restrain you once again, not with velcro, but with leather straps fastened tightly. You'll still have some wiggle room, but not much. How's that so far?"

"Sounds great."

"And finally, I want to blindfold you again, but this time add some ear defenders, unless you'd prefer headphones. So basically, do you want muffled sounds or music?"

"Something from the Classical period please; you choose."

Little did she know, but after that day she would never be able to hear Mozart's 40th Symphony without lubricating.

Using two fingers to check the gap between strap and skin at her wrists and ankles, he took the time to exchange smiles with his newborn submissive. Their exchanges were silent, to match the mood, yet that did nothing to limit the obvious affection they now felt for each other.

"Blindfold first, then Mozart. But first, do you need any more pillows or a blanket, a drink perhaps?"

"Just a sip."

He lifted and supported her head as she sucked through the straw.

She welcomed the darkness. Although the bedroom lighting was muted, she was glad to escape even the slightest glare.

He took his time adjusting the headphones. He didn't want her to be distracted by random sounds, but, at the same time, even the slightest rubbing would take her attention away from the sensations he was longing to give her. Pulling them away from her ear for a moment, he did his final check-in.

"How's the volume?"

"Perfect."

"Remember the bell I mentioned. I'll put it in your right hand. Although you won't hear me, I can still hear you if you use your safeword. But I know you won't believe that! Remember, I've been where you are now. So, if you need my attention, for ANY reason, ring it and we'll pause. I've swapped the cuff on your left wrist for velcro and the scissors are still where they were. I'm not planning on having a heart attack, but I'd rather not make a drama out of a crisis. All good?"

She was impatient for it all to begin, yet she suddenly felt a deep sense of gratitude for all the trouble he'd gone to, to set things up.

"It's all marvellous, Uncle Paul, I can't wait for it to start."

"Nor me. Have fun."

He left her undisturbed as he moved his toys within reach, watching her chest rise and fall, the movements of her eyebrows and forehead matching the rhythm of the Viennese Master's music.

He chose the attachment carefully before switching on the pink vibrator. But first he would let his fingers do the talking.

It was so very slight, but she was sure she felt something brush against her right boob. There it was again on her left. Then once more, a little harder this time. Right, then left, then... a warm breath, not random, but targeted, moving towards her nubbin. Then his tongue, oh God, his tongue!

Poking and prodding, he watched her nipple becoming erect, rewarding her by licking across the peak, then sucking before repeating his efforts on her other boob. Not that he abandoned her tormented teat, using his fingers to enclose it, tease it, pinch it, so very lightly.

Lifting his face for a moment, he picked up the humming wand, maintaining his contact with her second breast as he attended to her first. Ensuring that it was on its lowest setting, he brought it closer and closer to its target before touching the soft rubber against her flesh.

"Fuuuccckkk," she yelled, doing her best to launch herself off the bed.

He withdrew the toy for a few seconds before brushing it against her once again.

This was wonderful, too wonderful; she needed more!

Now he used its well-designed shape to wedge the vibrator against her right nipple, leaving him free to finish his pleasuring of her left boob.

It wasn't just her breasts that were responding to his efforts; her thighs were already parting, her moistening beginning in anticipation of what she wanted most of all.

Moving the toy to her left nipple, he first teased then rested it on her breast for a moment, taking the chance to reach for the bathbrush.

Putting the wand back on the side of the bed, nearly forgetting to switch it off, he took the brush and, as lightly as he could, placed the bristles against her heaving bosom.

What now, could she have too much of a good thing?

With maximum control and the lightest touch, he brushed down her body, forcing himself to move the brush slowly towards her groin.

He's heading for her pussy, she guessed, parting her legs, straining to give him greater access.

Reaching her stomach, he changed direction, sweeping left and right, sensitizing her skin.

Swapping the bath brush for the wand and removing the attachment, he followed the same path, mimicking his own movements, on the skin only inches above her thighs.

What now? She felt the wand move across her body, then left to rest on her pubic bone, the vibrations being transmitted throughout her whole pubic area.

He reached for the control button. Time to take things up a notch; the sounds it made now definitely louder.

He'd promised to taste her. It seemed to him that this would be the perfect moment.

She'd wondered why he hadn't shaved that morning, Sunday laziness, she'd decided. But now she realised the real reason, as she felt his stubble moving up her thighs.

The dry roughness and the wet softness were polar opposites, yet she was fast learning to treasure both on her softest skin of all, between her legs. Secured as she was, she had no control whatsoever over what he did and where, though, in truth, the sounds that she made, inaudible to her, plotted his course.

When she gasped he remained, when she moaned he pressed harder, when she groaned, he replaced wet with dry or dry with wet.

But now it was his licking alone that consumed her every thought. She was a reservoir he was determined to drain, yet constantly replenished. His tongue was like an inquisitive mole, looking for succulent morsels deep in her tunnels.

Unrestrained, she would have used her thighs to trap him, to hold his magical mouth against her fountain of life, the centre of her erotic universe. All this against the background of vibration throbbing deep within her core.

Suddenly it was gone and his mouth was withdrawn. She felt the absence acutely, like some kind of traumatic bereavement. Yet now she had another novel sensation to attend to, at the entrance to her pussy.

It pushed, she parted, it was in. Not his cock, she knew, but something with considerable girth. Neither soft and warm like skin nor flexible like rubber, it felt distinctly artificial, plasticky even. But then it moved and the wetness flowing in copious amounts lubricated this dildo, its very hardness ensuring it rubbed against her hidden flesh strongly.

She sang her silent song of praise, him taking her shrill wailing as a sign to go deeper, fuck her more quickly. But this was no electronic, hi-tech, pre-programmed device. Its lack of sophistication required a human being to control it, direct it, decide where it would be appreciated most.

Recognizing her tiredness, he played his final card, turning the base of the purple toy, giving it life, setting in motion the vibrations that would drive her insane.

She came not once, not twice, but four times before he undid her bonds and climbed on top of her, pinning her down under the weight of his body. Kissing her mouth, his own still coated with her juices, he used his fingers to force from her a final orgasm, leaving her too exhausted to even notice the wet pool collecting under her, as she squirted a second time in two days.

When she awoke, she was aware of a warm body beside her, strong arms wrapped around her, warm breath on her face.

"You've been asleep for nearly two hours; it's almost 5 pm. Time for that shower - this time I'll join you."

Modest as always, he wore swimming shorts, though they couldn't disguise the size and shape of his erection.

He washed her, she washed him, holding each other first back to front and then face to face. Afterwards they rubbed one another dry with towels pre-warmed on the radiators.

The salad was plain and simple: ham, cheese, a few tomatoes, some lettuce leaves, rocket, cucumber and a generous dollop of Hellmann's mayonnaise. Yet to them it was the food of the Gods. They ate in silence, knowing that soon she must leave and return to home, husband and work.

"This is the most dangerous time of all, the week ahead. You have climbed Everest in these last few days - gone higher and further than either of us thought possible. But now you must descend and it's so easy to slip and fall, even crash. It's known in the trade as sub-drop.

Here are a few things that might help. Keep in touch - text, Google chat, ring if you dare. Even a single word will do. I'll do a proper check-in, of course, but don't wait till then. You can start by letting me know when you get home."

"Get outside as much as possible. Eat your lunch in the park, under an umbrella if necessary. Keep up with your vitamins and minerals; some say vitamin E or Zinc help. Allow yourself extra sleep; your body has, almost literally, climbed a mountain this weekend."

"Finally, think about the next time. What would you repeat, take further, have a go at? It may be months before we have another chance like this, but dream as if we will soon. It will help you to manage your regrets, mitigate the depression, which we will both inevitably face, around the middle of the week."

"Uncle Paul, I have something for you. It's just a picture on my phone."

He took her mobile, studying the image carefully.

"One day, I want to be like her, wearing your collar."

Neither could say more; they were both in tears.

It was two days later that he received the letter. It was from her husband and consisted of a single sentence: 'Thank you, I have never seen her so happy.'

It was true. Even her colleagues at work noticed. The boss was still very much in charge, but the harshness had gone. Some even went as far as to say that she was 'more human.'

She felt it too. At peace with herself and especially her past, she no longer felt conflicted. Every part of her now had room to co-exist. She felt whole.

He was left with the tidying. But he didn't rush it. Every item evoked memories. He'd done a good job.

It was enough.