It was dark, pitch-black behind the thick silken-scarf He had put over her eyes. The sound and smells of Him and the warming fire in the fireplace was her companions in this darkness. In the first long minutes her arms and legs had hurt from the cramps that her upright spreadeagled position had caused, but now when the cramps had passed she could start to enjoy the feeling of the soft ropes around her wrists and ankles.

She could not move. He had seen to that. Arms bound together at the wrists and fastened to hooks far above, and her legs spread as wide as they possibly could and fastened to hooks in the walls. She knew that she was standing like this in the middle of the room. He had placed her like this so that he could enjoy her from all sides. And she knew that he was enjoying her, had heard it on his breathing, and that gave her pleasure.

She stood waiting. Waiting in dark soft breathing silence.

* Having tightened the last rope He stood back enjoying the sight of her body, her being. Enjoying the warm flickering glow spilling over her stretched limbs, He smiled and sat down to wait for her muscles to relax, and her tension and passion to rise. How He loved her, and how He loved their play, their special passion. He leaned back near the fire, His passion rising.

* She heard Him rise, heard Him walking towards her. His lips touched her foreheard lightly and then He went to stand behind her. She felt an eternity pass where nothing happened. Then His hands cupped her breasts, and she felt blood rushing to her nipples, felt them harden.

He caressed her a little while like this, and then she felt the softest rope being tied around each breast, and tightened so her sensitivity would remain peaked. She heard His breathing, felt His selfcontrol harden when He stepped back. She guessed what was coming, so when the first stroke fell on her buttocks she was prepared. The pain was short but the spreading glow of warmth and the tingle of bodily life would spread its warming wings and carry her through the night.

Oh He knew, He knew her likings and dislikes, and in her spirit she leaned lovingly against him.

* He had lately discovered how much she actually enjoyed these "beatings", and how much He himself enjoyed them, so He worked in silence, colouring her buttocs from pink to deep red, and hearing every little sound and breath that she uttered, seeing every little move that the ropes allowed her. She was on the path now, the path to their common universe.

When He finished the beatings He stroked and kissed her lovingly and soothingly, holding her tight from behind, cupping her "womanhood" enjoying the warmth and moisture there. Teasing her with one or a few caresses of her most sensitive spot while biting her neck lightly and teasingly. No woman had ever made him feel this proud, this in control. Never.

* She felt herself slipping. Glowing from the warmth both from the beating and from the embrace. When He teasingly touched her spot she wanted him to go on with the touching, but instead she felt him lightly touching her smallest opening, felt him applying some kind of moisture, and when he took his hand away a warmth, almost burning spread itself to her whole body, found every nerve end in her lower parts, made her shiver from this much coming alive.

Felt His hand grabbing her hair pulling her head back, fastening her hair to the rope between her ankles, so her head now was "thrown back". And finally, finally she felt him coming round to face her, heard him bending down before her, felt him spreading her lower lips, knowing that he now wanted to taste her.

The first long slow "kiss" he gave her, revebrated all through her body. from her feet to her now throbbing hypersensitive breasts.