Jewel's Weekend

After casting a quick glance back on the path behind them, he said, "Kneel, jewel."

She had suspected that he had plans, but hearing the command here, now, took her by surprise. She glanced around, taking a long look before deciding that they were alone enough. The cabin he had reserved was apparently still some distance up the path, far removed from the others, and this was not the peak season. They weren't likely to be seen by anyone. Or heard. That did comfort her, but also made her shudder with a delicious apprehension. She obeyed.

He reached into the knapsack he was carrying. She looked up at him one last time, at his face, faintly illuminated by the early spring twilight filtering through the trees, and that was the last thing she saw before the blindfold went on. She barely heard his stealthy footsteps pad behind her, and did not resist when he brought her wrists behind her back. Something was secured around each of her wrists. They could only have been cuffs, but they felt unfamiliar. She was accustomed to the nylon cuffs with the Velcro attachments. These cuffs were lined with something that felt like animal skin, and he cinched them up snugly, as if buckling them. He had told her that this weekend would be special, but the new cuffs were an extravagance that she hadn't expected.

He fastened her wrists together, letting the carabiner clip snap loudly into place. He paused. She imagined he must be admiring his work, or enjoying her predicament, or perhaps both. As his hands settled on the back of her neck and shoulders, lingering there, she began to sense the change in his demeanor. He was being less gentle, more authoritative. The anticipation grew until she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Then one of his hands left her, and she heard more rustling in the knapsack.

She gasped when she heard the familiar jangle of the metal rings of her collar. She had wondered just how daring he was going to be, and now she had her answer. He had only ever put the collar on her behind closed doors, and now she was being made to wear it out in the open. Remote as the possibility was, it chilled her to think that she might be seen like this, but she still managed a nervous, tight-lipped smile as he buckled the collar and snapped the padlock into place.

"Stand, jewel," she heard, and obeyed. She felt more than heard him walk slowly in a tight circle around her, several times, before stopping in front of her, and then felt his hands on her shoulders. She relaxed, thinking that he would kiss her next, and almost fell to the ground as he started turning her around. He caught her as she stumbled, keeping her on her feet and continuing to spin her, and she decided that the best thing for her to do would be to cooperate, to spin on her own until he stopped her. He finally did, after several disorienting revolutions, and she staggered trying to keep her feet underneath her. After a few seconds, she realized that he had withdrawn from her, and she started to panic a bit.

"Sir?" she said in a hoarse whisper, and as soon as the word left her mouth, he rushed toward her from behind, and she relaxed into his embrace. When she heard the metallic click on her collar, she had never been more relieved to be on a leash. He backed away again, the tautness of the chain attached to her collar letting her know she had not been abandoned.

She wasn't sure how long she had stood there before the sudden, unrelenting tug let her know that it was time to start walking. He kept her at a slow pace, much to her relief since she wouldn't be able to catch herself from falling with her arms behind her back. He was unnervingly light on his feet, and every snap of a twig resounded like a cap pistol. Had they turned around? Being spun around had caused her to lose her bearings. She felt the tug on her leash pulling her toward the right, and wasn't sure now whether the path had taken a sharp turn or forked. She tried to retrace the steps they had taken before she was blindfolded. She couldn't accuse her memory of letting her down. She hadn't been paying close attention to where they had gone, because she had been too busy wondering what was in store for her.

The path had narrowed somewhat and gradually steepened. She tried to count steps. He must have known what she was up to, because he suddenly stopped and instructed her to kneel. She obeyed, but received no other command. He neither moved nor spoke. She was drowning in the silence, and then suddenly he dropped the leash.

As her leash fell slack, she heard footsteps and rustling into the undergrowth to her right. Her heart raced as she fought the instinct to try to follow him. She heard his slower, more careful steps, and the branches parting before him. He must have taken five or six steps off the path, and then inexplicably stopped. Now it was silent again, but only briefly, as the wet hiss of a stream of water hit the ground, and the smell that wafted toward her moments later told her that he had left the path to relieve his bladder. She exhaled and slouched a bit as she kneeled there, almost laughing out loud. When she heard the sound of his returning to the path and next felt the tug of her leash again, she rose to her feet quickly, and she realized, both to her dismay and her amusement, that she had lost count. She shook her head, smiling to herself, and didn't bother starting to count again.

They continued to trek for a short distance, and when she heard his footsteps suddenly amplified as he began to cross a footbridge, it gave her a mild startle. Three steps later, she crossed the bridge herself. Not long after her feet touched the earth again, she felt him change direction, first to the right, then sharply to the left, and she followed him carefully. She heard the sound of his feet on wood, and she continued forward until she suddenly felt his hand on her upper chest, stopping her. "Two steps up, jewel," he said, guiding her carefully up the stairs. Then came the sound of a key in a doorknob, and the creak of a door opening a few steps in front of her. She heard him enter, and the tug on her leash moments later brought her through the door.

She felt him guide her into the cabin, and then heard the clatter of her leash dropping to the floor, followed by the louder sound of the knapsack hitting the floor a short distance away. There was a shuffling sound that she didn't recognize, followed by a silence that made her flesh crawl. Without warning, her head was jerked forward slightly, then another clatter as the leash was disconnected from her collar. She tried to straighten up but was held firm, still feeling a tug from the front ring of her collar. He must have slipped a finger through it. How did she not hear him approach? That shuffling noise must have been of him removing his shoes.

She let herself be pulled forward, then he turned her around and backed her up another half-step. She felt a wooden frame pressed up against her calves, and he bent her at the knees in a not particularly gentle manner. She next heard the sound of her jeans dragging roughly against something plastic and cushioned. A mattress, she thought. He had sat her on the bed. She felt him step forward, placing his legs on either side of hers, standing over her, and another tug forward on her collar brought her face against what she knew must have been his jeans. She trembled, her mouth gaping, as she could feel the growing bulge against her right cheek. She leaned against it, and she could hear the soft, low sound of his approval.

She squirmed, desperately wanting to bring her cuffed arms in front of her to touch him, and knowing that her movements could be interpreted as a struggle. He made no noise and held her firm until she gave up. She was given time to relax, and she allowed her breathing to slow. When he let go the ring of her collar, she straightened up only slightly, then she felt him reach around and release her wrist cuffs from the clip. She didn't move her hands, even when she felt the cuffs being removed. She heard them being tossed aside onto the floor, and he was upon her again in one swift movement, his hands suddenly at the hem of her sweatshirt, pulling it up roughly over her head.

He undressed her quickly, her t-shirt and bra the next to go. She thought she had heard the hum of a space heater, but it didn't seem to be helping. Her nipples hardened quickly, responding as much to the excitement as to the chill of the room. The inside of the cabin was warm only in comparison to the outside. She wanted to feel the warmth of his body against hers, but knew that wouldn't be offered to her yet. His hand on her shoulder pushed her back until she was lying on the bed. She felt him step back and pull her ankles up into the air, and he brought her legs together, one arm wrapped firmly around them both as his free hand began untying her shoes. She heard her shoes hit the floor, and the scooting, tumbling sound of them being kicked across the floor, one after the other. Her socks came off quickly. Then he parted her legs, moving forward, reaching for the button and fly. Now he slowed his pace. She felt her jeans loosen as he popped the button free, and heard the long dragging sound of her zipper being pulled down exquisitely slowly. He reached underneath her, and as he slowly stepped back, his hands traced their way slowly down the back of her thighs, behind her knees, down her calves, briefly touching the bare skin of her Achilles' tendons, before he grabbed the cuffs of her jeans and began to pull. She knew this was coming, but still couldn't stop herself from making a sound of surprise and mild protest, the kind of protest that begs to be overcome. She shivered, feeling her legs being slowly exposed, and as she heard her jeans hit the floor, she knew only her white cotton panties remained in the way. She bit her lower lip in a half-smile and shook her head, offering him another feeble mock protest. And to her surprise, he stepped away, letting her legs go, and leaving her panties on.

She chose not to move, and resisted the temptation to take off her blindfold. She heard the sound of the knapsack being opened again, and then the sound, and the breeze, from some items being tossed softly onto the bed. One. Two. Three. The fourth item landed against her, and she recognized the soft, silky feel of bondage rope. She wasn't able to suppress her smile, until she heard the next unfamiliar sound, which confused her. A deep, hollow, wooden sound. Then she felt a long, rigid object being laid across her waist, and she remembered the bamboo pole that he had brought home from the craft store a few days ago. She found herself wondering what other toys he had brought here before bringing her.

The coil of rope lying at her side was taken away. She felt him take her by the right wrist, bringing it against the pole, and she stopped herself from panicking as he lashed her wrist to the pole. Her left wrist was next, lashed to the pole about a foot away from her right. When he was done, he held the pole above her and pried open her clenched fists. She relaxed her hands, and after thinking a moment, she nodded her head, guessing that he wanted her to hold the pole for him. She couldn't grasp the pole with her wrists bound as they were, but she could keep her arms held up. The pole wasn't too heavy. She knew she could stay in this position for a while. Then he felt his hand on her right ankle. He brought it against the pole, about a foot from her right wrist, and she had to bend her knee slightly in order to position her ankle where he wanted it. Her right ankle was quickly lashed to the pole, then her left. She kept the pole held above her, though she found the position a bit awkward.

He left her to do more rummaging through the knapsack. The mattress shifted, then shifted again, and she realized he was now walking on the bed. The end of another coil of rope dangled, settling on her bosom, and she felt him manipulating the pole somehow. Then he stepped away, behind her, off the bed. She felt the end of the rope being taken away, then gasped as she felt the pole move, her wrists and ankles being pulled back over her head, and her hips being pulled off the mattress. She felt very exposed, even though she was still wearing her panties. A tug against the pole indicated to her that he had anchored the rope somewhere to the side of the bed, and that he was testing the tautness.

Nervous, she needed to break the silence. She laughed softly as she started to speak. "I figured what the bamboo switch was for. The pole I wasn't sure about. This is --" Her sentence dissolved into a groan, as she felt what she was sure was that bamboo switch across the flesh of her well-exposed thighs. She could imagine the stripe it left behind.

"Watch your language, jewel."

Now she understood. They had played this game before for only a few carefully planned hours at a time, keeping things quiet and casual. Now they had a whole weekend to themselves with no kids and no potential distractions. It made sense now that he would want to immerse himself further in the role. And it made sense for her to follow suit. "Your jewel begs Your pardon, Sir."

She felt the mattress move again as he climbed onto the bed, and he traced a finger along her thighs where the switch had landed. "Did you have something to say to Me, jewel?" he asked, as she felt his hand settle on the crotch of her panties, and she knew he could feel the moist heat beneath the cotton.

She pondered the question for a few seconds before responding with a timorous "No, Sir," and as soon as she spoke, he withdrew his hand.

She heard an unfamiliar click. "Good," she heard him reply, and felt him pull the right side of her panties away from her hip. She gasped as she felt something cold and metallic against that same hip, and when it was taken away, producing the sound of tearing fabric, she understood it was a utility knife. One more tug and slice at the other hip, and the last barrier between her and him was removed. She knew how inviting her pose must be, and wondered how long he would hold back and prolong her anticipation.

He slipped off the bed again, and she guessed what the rustling sound must be before his sweatshirt was softly tossed across her chest. Next, he unzipped his fly noisily, the sound unmistakable. He reached out, slowly dragging his sweatshirt off her chest, across her face, and she took in the smell of him as the shirt draped her. She gasped when her face was again uncovered, and a tug against the pole and the shifting of the mattress told her he was climbing on the bed again, and she knew where he was going before she smelled him hovering over her. She didn't need to be told what to do next, but the instruction came anyway. "Worship, jewel." And before the words "Yes, Sir" could come out of her mouth, she felt the head of his semi-erect member playing upon her lips, and she parted them to take him inside.

He moved downward, his scrotum settling against her nostrils briefly, smothering her for a split second before he raised himself up a fraction of an inch. She moved her head slightly to the side with a whimper and took a breath through her nose. She swirled her tongue around and swallowed before starting to raise and lower her head in order to give him stimulation, and she let out a muffled moan as he started to swell inside her mouth. She slackened her jaw and pressed her tongue down and forward, feeling him grow rigid. She felt him lean into her, and she moved her neck to accommodate the penis shifting inside her mouth. She next felt his fingers parting her nether lips, settling in the warm dew that was gathered there, and she responded by moving her head up and down more urgently, not caring that her neck might get tired. Again, she anticipated his next instruction.

"Hold still, jewel."

She gulped, stopping in mid-motion, and slowly let her head settle back to the bed. She held him there in her mouth, though she wanted to do much more. She felt him gathering more moisture on his fingers, and she moaned as his fingers slid downward. His palm settled over her vulva, as if to trap the heat inside, and her muscles clenched as a moistened finger traced small circles around the opening to her anus. The tip of his finger slowly orbited the hole, and she squirmed as it spiraled closer. As the finger finally slipped inside her, she murmured softly and raised her head against his groin. He settled his hips closer to the mattress, forcing her head back down, briefly making her gag before he raised himself up again, and she responded with stifled groans of pleasure commingled with pain as the finger slowly worked its way inside her.

When he had carefully sunk his finger inside to the second knuckle, he raised his body away from her head. She moaned, her mouth suddenly empty, and her breathing was hard and ragged. She let out another moan of exquisite despair as he pulled his finger out, much more quickly than he had inserted it. He descended from the bed and walked away, leaving her alone and empty.

He returned after a long moment. She felt him climb back onto the other side of the bed and roughly place a hand on her right hip. She cringed and squirmed slightly as she felt a few drops of moisture falling where his finger had been moments ago. That finger returned shortly later, and penetrated again, more quickly and more easily this time, but it didn't remain there. She felt the bed shift again, and he stepped forward, his hips against her upturned gluteals, and the warm shaft of his erect member rested between her nether lips. "Please," she whispered huskily.

"Please what?" he responded with a slap on her backside.

"Please, Sir," she answered, almost shouting. She was growing delirious in her subspace, becoming more needy and less articulate. "Please, Sir," she repeated in a softer voice, trying to arch her back and press her hips up toward his penis.

He nestled the head of it at the entrance and went no further. She whined a wordless complaint and felt another slap in response. The first slap made her whine more loudly for a moment, and after a second and third, she fell silent. She realized she would be given that satisfaction only when he was ready to offer it to her. She became as still and as patient as her fervor would permit. Her breathing settled down until she could almost have fallen asleep. And then he pushed himself inside. She gasped, suddenly brought back to awareness. "Thank You, Sir," she whispered, and he answered with a steady pumping rhythm.

He stood over her, pushing down into her at an awkward angle, and she gritted her teeth as his slick finger returned to her anus. She breathed through clenched teeth as the finger penetrated her again. "Thank you Sir," she repeated. He slowed his rhythm and began alternating between pushing forward with his finger, then pushing forward with his penis. A few strokes drew an extended groan from deep in her lungs, and he responded with a slap on her gluteals and a warning. "Don't cum, jewel."

She shook her head hard and tried to steady her breath. "No Sir," she replied, and she struggled to obey as his rhythm became more rapid and persistent. "No, Sir," she repeated, grinding her teeth. Gradually the rhythm of his penis slowed while the pace of his finger increased, confirming in her mind what she had already guessed was next. He thrust his member fully inside her and held it there, his finger stroking it through the flesh between her vagina and anus, and she lurched against him as much as her position would allow. Without warning, he backed out of her, and she let out an anguished moan upon finding herself suddenly empty.

The bed shifted again. She felt his weight leaning over her, and shuddered as she felt his fingers on her face. He lifted the blindfold away from her eyes. She saw her limbs laced to the bamboo pole, saw the way her upturned hips were presented to him, saw what an inviting target she was, and saw him poised over her, ready to accept that invitation whether it was offered or not. She was in no position to refuse -- indeed, nor was she in the mood. She pleaded wordlessly with her wide eyes, which she closed as he pushed forward, and in spite of her dry mouth, she found the voice to thank him.