Beautiful Disaster (Beautiful #1)
Page 60I let her tear herself free then so that I can root through my stuff to hunt down the only thing I can come up with that might work. In the meantime, she flees across the room, panting heavily when she finally stops and leans against the mirrored wall in the opposite corner of the room.
I stuff a coil of rope into the waistband of my jeans and grab a bunch of black cable binders in my hand before I finally go after her, doing my best to leer at her. She seems torn between open defiance and badly hidden but superbly played fear.
"Why are you doing this?" she shouts, trying to make a dive to my right but only ending up slammed against the wall with her back towards me. I let a dark chuckle be my only answer as I swap the cuffs for a cable binder after some more struggling. Her legs are far harder to restrain, but eventually I manage to lock them together at her ankles and below and above the knees, the black plastic biting into her flushed skin. She tries to break free one last time and I have to lunge forward to catch her properly, cursing under my breath. I should have planned to do something like this together with Jazz, both for practicality and safety reasons, but as I'm on my own, I'll have to make do somehow.
With her now facing me, I grab her chin and dig my fingers into her cheeks until she lets out a small sound, my eyes boring into hers. I love the defiance in her look, at least until she manages to spit at me and actually aims true. My mind wants to shut down my motions when I let go of her so I can slap her – not hard, but enough to sting – yet the fire in her eyes doesn't dim in the least, and I know I can continue like with this.
Holding her chin again, I lean into her until I have her pinned with my lower body while I force her to keep looking at me.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll stop fighting now."
She doesn't answer, only tries to jerk her head out of my grasp but when I don't let go she leaves it at a mute glare. Bella tries to fight again when I step away and grab her upper arm, but she is mostly helpless and has to suffer me picking her up and carrying her through the room. She thankfully doesn't struggle when I leave her leaning against my body and stretch up and grab the rope hanging from the ceiling, but I pause right there. I don't want to strain her shoulders much yet, so instead of tying her elbows together and fixing the rope to that, I turn her around and start to fondle her breasts.
Bella does her best to appear put off by my groping, even more so when I manage to tear the front of the dress apart so I can drag her bra down and completely expose her tits. Her angry whimpers when I roll her nipples between my fingers make my cock hard again, as does her body wriggling against my own, but I don't waste much time with groping her.
Her struggling ceases a bit when I get the rope out of my waistband and start to wind it around the base of her breast double-stranded, but she nearly falls down when I have to leave her for a moment to get yet more rope to do the same with her other tit. I love how the rope does a great job at making her tits stick out obscenely, the effect only increased when I tie the two ropes together and then to the one suspended from the ceiling so that I can force her onto the balls of her feet with a simple pull on the suspension rope.
Tying that off at the winch on the wall, I watch her try to keep her balance, but with three cable binders around her legs that's no small feat. The pain resulting from the pressure on her breasts must be substantial when she finally loses her footing for a few moments, but I let her tire herself out a bit before I step in to steady her. Her gaze is a little wild when she looks at me again, but it's nothing she can't bear. I leave it at a somewhat evil smirk before I grab her already ruined dress and continue to tear it apart until the front is completely open, the tatters sliding down to her elbows. Her panties are much harder to destroy, and I give up on her bra, cutting it off with the safety scissors I always keep handy for emergency reasons. On second thought I do the same with the remainder of the dress, too.
She doesn't look particularly happy when I return to her after putting the scissors away. For a moment I even think that she has already given up, but when she spits in my general direction I know that the game's still on.
Smirking at her, I close the distance between us. Then I slap her left cheek a little harder than before, leaving a quickly fading handprint there while her motion to avoid the hit unbalances her anew. This time I steady her by grabbing her nipples and twisting them, making her yowl with pain until she moves closer to me to alleviate the pressure.
"Still so defiant? I think I have to teach you a lesson," I taunt, then let go of her to walk over to the impact toy rack. New excitement zips through me as my fingertips brush over the leather of the single tail whip that I've had for two years now, but haven't yet gotten a chance to use on Bella. The leather warms quickly under my hand when I grab it and let it unfurl in all its beauty.
Bella looks fittingly uneasy when I return to her and caress her thigh idly with the whip. I'm burning to let her feel its sting finally, but instead of going for that right away I push the whip over her head from behind and lay it across the ropes binding her tits.
"That better not fall down or I'll make sure you'll regret it."
She doesn't reply but I can still see her tense with the effort to keep still and brace herself for what's to come. When I slap her ass hard she yelps and tries to take a step forward, nearly losing her precarious balance. Another slap and the same happens again. I take pity on her then, putting one hand on her stomach while I continue to bring the other down hard on her ass for a quick warm-up. She squirms and grunts, trying to minimize the contact from both of my hands which of course is impossible, and only ends up making me use more force.
I keep spanking her a little longer while I tease her clit with my finger, then step back and retrieve the whip. Sadly her fidgeting hasn't dislodged it but I don't really care that much – I don't need an excuse to use it on her after all.
Taking a stance in front of her, I let my eyes roam over her body before I raise the whip. I know that she isn't just pretending to be scared of it – and rightly so. Unlike most of our toys, whips can actually do real damage with any accidental hit that misses its target. It has taken me years to perfect throwing whips. Beth has been a good teacher, making sure I knew what I was doing before she ever let me near anyone with it. I've only had a week to pick up my practice again so I won't over do it, for both Bella's sake and my own, but I intend to give her a wild ride.
Some people like to crack their whips before they actually make skin contact, but I refrain from that, simply because I can't stand the sound myself. Instead I throw it with minimal velocity, just fast enough to hit my target – the side of Bella's thigh – square on. She makes a sound somewhere between a grunt and a cry, but it's clearly more pent-up tension needing release than pain. If there even is a resulting thin red line it disappears before I can see it, and when the next few hits don't hurt her further, Bella slowly relaxes.
I let my aim wander to the front of her thighs, then up to the soft, lower part of her belly below her abdominal muscles, then walk around her so I can reach her ass, the back of her thighs and her calves, always keeping a steady rhythm and the resulting pain to a minimum. She still doesn't relax altogether, and a few times I have to stop because she loses her balance.
Eventually I grow tired of that.
Substituting padded cuffs for the wrist cable binders is easy now that she can't really fight. After I've raised her arms away from her back and clipped them to the connective rope above where the ropes from the breast bondage lead, I cut through the cable ties on her ankles and below her knees. I leave the last one so that she can't kick at me, though, and once she stops fidgeting I pick the whip back up again.
One of the crucial rules when using whips is to stay away from any joints and most importantly the face, but because it's her first time altogether I take it easy on her in general. Her ass and thighs bear the brunt of it over the next minutes as I slowly increase the speed of my throws, soon leaving marks that don't fade faster than they appear. The will to fight leaves her gradually as her mind slips into the sensation, soon craving the pain as much as I know she dreads it. The low moans I pick up from her are a sure indication of that.
Things get a little more interesting when I switch to the front of her body, and this time include her bound breasts. Her breath catches harshly at the first contact while she instinctively turns her head to the side, farther away from anywhere the whip might go. Each time I hit her tits she jerks in her bonds, a few whimpers escaping her now and then.
When I take a break her shoulders sag with relief, but only until I walk up to her and grab her bound tits roughly, pushing my fingers into the constricted flesh. Bella grits her teeth and tries not to make a sound, but soon rewards me with a strangled cry when I don't ease up. Keeping my right hand there I let go of her other breast, leaning forward so I can take her nipple between my teeth. She hisses sharply when I bite down hard, then moans as I continue sucking while I tease the barbell of her piercing with my tongue. Meanwhile, I stroke her side with my free hand, then push two fingers between her still tightly bound legs so I can stroke her clit. Before long she is having problems trying not to writhe under the attention, and I know it's time to step up the pace.
The glazed over look of lust quickly leaves her face when the whip kisses her stomach again, faster and more painful than before. I love how both surprise and the harsh sting of the toy make her cry out, her voice that high kind of hoarse I've heard so little of over the last months. And as I go on, sometimes straying to her thighs but mostly aiming at her tits and stomach, her cries become louder and more frequent. Her squirming soon forces me to abandon her front lest I hurt her accidentally. After all, her upper back and ass are much more forgiving when it comes to not quite perfect aim.
"Please stop! I can't take it anymore, please!"
I'm surprised to hear her begging like that, but it fits the tone we've set.
Pausing, I then add two final, more painful throws before I walk around to her front, staring at her bound tits before I meet her eyes.
"Did you say something? All that lusty moaning from you is kind of distracting."
She frowns for a second but quickly returns to pleading with me when I slap her tits hard.
Stepping close to her until her tits rub against my t-shirt, I reach around her and pinch her ass, then push my finger down her crack until it reaches her anus. She makes a face but keeps her eyes on mine, wide and seemingly afraid.
"And what keeps me from simply taking what I want?" I ask her, pushing the first digit of my middle finger inside her sphincter. She seems at a loss for words, even when I stop and step away from her. When she still doesn't answer I slap her face again, loving the quick flash of anger that appears in her eyes before she tries to appear meek again.
"Nothing, but things will be easier if I comply, right?"
"I can just force you to comply. I don't need your cooperation, slut."
I slap her again, hard enough this time to make her wince, and she suddenly drops the act. Even though she can barely move she somehow manages to grip the ropes her cuffs are fixed to with her fingers, allowing her to brace herself a bit before she starts to yank on her bonds. She tries to wriggle out of them, and when that doesn't help, kicks out towards me somehow, all the while shouting at me.
"You fucking bastard, I demand that you let me go!"
Stepping out of her reach I watch her with a wry grin, inwardly wincing at how much the ropes must be digging into her tits, but she has had enough experience with bondage to have expected that before she started throwing that fit.
"Not before I'm done with you," I tell her succinctly, when her own thrashing has worn her out enough to stop for a moment. I love how angry my words make her.
"Let me go!"
I simply shake my head, then pick up the whip again.
"Seems like I need to teach you some manners," I grunt, then crack the whip after all in the general direction of her back. It falls short by several inches but the sound scares her into momentary submission again.
Her back is soon covered in red lines, and when she stops fidgeting every so often I turn my aim lower, to her ass. Every whip lash makes her howl now, and a few of the marks turn into slightly raised welts, bound to stay for a few hours at least. A few more obscenities leave her but then she falls oddly silent, my signal to stop.
Leaving the whip by the wall I walk back to face her, the tear stains on her cheeks confirming my guess that I've pretty much maxed her out. There's still defiance in her gaze but she seems to want to shy away from me when I close the distance between us.
Reaching for her throat, I keep her from turning her head away, the light pressure of my fingers barely enough to choke her, but either way making a point. She doesn't react when I press my lips to hers, but a quick, hard pinch of her ass makes her cry out and eliminates that problem. I shut her up by shoving my tongue into her mouth. Either she's tired of pretending not to care, or too far gone to keep on playing, as she kisses me back eagerly. A few whimpers escape her when I continue to knead her butt, then cut off when I increase the pressure of my fingers on her throat.
When I pull back she lets out a strained panting sound, so I let go of her, and instead stroke her cheek softly for a moment, a tender gesture that I turn on her when I grab her hair and wrench her head back until she is forced to look into my face again.
Stubborn as always, she keeps her lips pressed together until I slap her again, only then offering a whimpered, "Yes!"
I reach up and start undoing the knots that hold all of the ties together.
Bella sighs with relief when the strain on her breasts lessens once there's some slack in the ropes, but grits her teeth until I'm done unwinding the ropes completely. The marks the rope has left on her tits stand out even against her flushed skin and I'm quite happy to maul her tits while they are still sensitive from being bound for so long. She suffers it mostly in silence, not fighting me, and lets me lead her towards the bench at the back of the room, once I've cut through the cable binder holding her legs together.
I push her down on her back so that her ass hangs slightly over the edge of the padded bench, then tell her to stay there with her knees drawn up to her chest. She complies and I turn around to fetch the needed supplies, watching her from the corner of my eye gingerly rub her tits once my back is towards her.
Returning with padded cuffs for her ankles and enough rope to immobilize her, I set to the task of doing just that. She still doesn't protest although she's not as compliant as I'm used to. This forces me to push and pull her into position rather than to just fix the wrist cuffs to the head end of the bench directly, followed by the ankle ones with barely enough connective rope to leave her with a minimum of movement in her legs.
I love how open and vulnerable she is for me now, leaving me so many possibilities to use and abuse her while she can't even move her head properly with her arms right and left of it. She shivers slightly when I skim my fingers over a stray welt left on her thigh, then opens her mouth as if to protest.
"I don't think so," I inform her, then turn around to fetch the remnants of her panties. Bella lets out a grunt of protest when I force the torn cotton between her teeth to gag her. Turning my attention back to her thighs, I stroke the mostly unmarred expanse of flesh before I return to the supplies cabinet.
Bella tries to get a look at what I bring back, but she doesn't react when she sees the bottle of lube and inflatable butt plug. Slickening the plug quickly, I then work it into her, her ass not needing much preparation to accommodate the toy in its native state. A few pumps expand the plug and draw a low moan from her and I keep going until she winces briefly. Gently pulling on the base of the plug shows me that she won't be able to just push it out anymore. I leave her one last time to get the cane we most often use in the playroom.
Used to it as she is, she doesn't look too concerned when she sees me return with it, but that quickly changes after the first few strokes that come down hard on her spread thighs. The whipping and the strain on her legs from the previous position she was in have left her muscles tired and somewhat tender, something I abuse now mercilessly. She has also asked me for marks, and I'm only happy to oblige – whether she wants it now or not.
The makeshift gag does little to muffle her cries. After a little while she doesn't even seem to hold back anymore, sounds of pain and pleasure intermingling freely, depending on where I hit her rather than how hard, it seems. I only pause from time to time to add a few more pumps to the plug.
She's squirming around as much as the position allows her, and before long my jeans are definitely too tight for my own comfort. It feels good to ditch them together with the t-shirt, both sweat-soaked already from all the exertion. Bella uses the break to relax again, her eyes closed, so she misses the tray of lit candles that I bring back to her side – and once they are on the floor she can't see them because of her position.
I keep on caning her thighs and ass for a while longer, both to keep her agitated and to give the candles time to melt enough wax to make things interesting. A couple of minutes later I put the cane on the floor next to the bench and grab a tall, while pillar candle. Without much ado, I upend the entire pool of wax over Bella's left thigh, letting it run from below her knee to inches away from her pussy.
The wail she lets out is almost painful in my ears, even muffled as it is, and the gag does little to silence her heavy panting once she stops. Her eyes are huge as she stares at me, but it's obvious that her reaction is more due to surprise than pain. I chuckle and pick up another candle, doing the same to her other thigh, this time only getting rewarded with a low grunt. We've played with wax before but usually in smaller amounts, with lots of teasing and little actual spilled wax – not so this time as she soon finds out. I get two blue candles next and upend one over each of her tits, making her arch her back in discomfort.
Exchanging the candles for the cane again, I set to the wonderful task of peeling the cooled wax off her thighs and tits with the help of the flexible rattan and maybe a little more force than necessary. More moaning and grunting ensues, and she rewards me with another scream when I add another round of wax – this time directly onto her swollen, wet pussy. The cane won't do there so I use the flat of my hand, slapping her pussy long after the last bits of green wax are gone, leaving only glistening, red flesh.