Alfresco Bondage

“You like pain… dirty slut,” he whispered in my ear.

This is a smouldering hot summer story… and it is also a fictionalised tale. In this one, the character names and their jobs are fiction, but the sexy action really happened to me :-) - Yes all of it.

Image by Sunrise from Pixabay

I will never forget the summer of ninety-nine. I’d finished university and was employed as a holiday rep near Biarritz in south-west France. Lordy, Lordy… That has got to be one of the most fun jobs I have ever been paid to do. I learned so much about people, and also during this time finally came to terms with the kind of sex I like — kinky. Bondage. BDSM — call it what you will. In the summer of ninety-nine, I got my first taste and have never looked back…

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I didn’t take long to settle in to the work routine and I immediately made friends with the other representatives. One in particular caught my eye from the start. Typical really as he was tall, dark and handsome. But it was more than that. Reece had a confident demeanour and a natural charm.

It wasn’t long before we hooked up. And the sex was great. I could tell he had to be in charge, which thrilled me to the core. One night he told me he liked to play the dominant and suspected I was a natural submissive. So would I give it a go? I didn't need any more persuading, and we discussed what kind of things I’d like to try.

Luckily the perfect opportunity arose when a holiday let was vacant one weekend which coincided with our Saturday off. We hot tailed it over to the secluded house, with pool, outside a quiet village in the French countryside for an evening of excess.Reece picked out what I should wear, and we sat outside appreciating the choice he had made while we ate a BBQ supper. The garments set the mood beautifully, and I certainly felt raw and naive dressed in a cute white collared, high necked black dress that hugged my full breasts. It nipped in at the waist and then fell just shy of the knee.

Underneath the garment, a different story was told which certainly belied any moral code.

We finished dinner and I sipped my wine, enjoying the surrounding vista. Green fields and trees stretched to the horizon. We sat beneath a trellis of vine leaves that entangled themselves to create a roof.

“Stand up,” he commanded.

I stood in my black court shoes and walked towards him. He slipped a bondage collar around my neck and told me to position myself at the edge of the patio. I looked up and saw a hook with a chain hanging from it. He fed the metal links through the collar ring and then re-clipped it onto the hook above my head.

My breathing quickened, perhaps heightened by the unfamiliar surroundings, open air setting and the fact I was restrained. Shackled in a way.

“Hands behind your back.”

I responded, and Reece tied them at the wrists with twine. He looked at me and my heart beat faster. All week I had been in work uniform — shorts, logo t-shirt and flat shoes and as usual not a scrap of make up on my face. Work was demanding. Now I stood before him wearing heels, a dress, stockings and lipstick; just enough for a good girl. Looking at his face it was obvious he appreciated the scene as much as I did.

“Back in a minute.”

As I watched him walk away, I tested out my boundaries and took a step forward. The collar pulled on my neck. That was as far as I could go.

The sun was setting beneath the trees and the candles on the table flickered even though the evening was incredibly still.

Suddenly he was back. He lifted the skirt of my dress and sighed, taking a moment to absorb my lace topped stockings, suspender belt and silky knickers. Then, fastening my dress to my waist, he reached for the whip.

He’d showed me the flail earlier, and we had chatted about what it may feel like when he used it on me. We’d also decided upon a safeword.

Standing in front of me, he looked directly into my eyes. I took a moment to try and level my breathing, as understandably it seemed to be escalating faster than usual. He waited before steering the end of the whip to flick across the top of my legs with a delicious sting. I cried out, confident we were remote enough for nobody to hear. Another lash landed against my protruding bum cheeks just before he yanked down my panties and thrashed the bare skin five more times.

There is much more to this story

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