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She felt herself stretch, heard the bones pop here and there as he pulled her arms higher above her head. She struggled to balance on the tips of her toes as he tied the rope off at the wall.
Suspended in the center of the room, the pool of light surrounding her stretched form, her blond hair caught the light, giving the appearance of a halo. Angelic. Beautiful. Every muscle strained, her skin like velvet. She struggled to stand still, struggled to remain in place.
He walked to the edge of light, slowly circling, as an artist might to admire his work. Lovely. He liked the way the arms above her head stretched her frame, causing her breasts to lift. He quietly approached her, and gently touched the nipples. They hardened instantly. He heard her quick intake of air as he quickly placed a clamp on one, then the other. An almost silent groan is heard from her chest, and he picks up the bright red ball gag. She opened her mouth for his unspoken command, and felt her jaws and lips stretched, too. He quickly finished the adornment of his model with tiny brass bells, which he attached to the clamps on her nipples.
He stepped back out of the circle of light, and she heard a rustling sound as he said "Now, Dance." Before she could move, or even comprehend his order, she heard the whistle of the whip, and the quick "snap-crack" of it as it landed. She jumped, the quick intake of air now stretching her lungs. It took a moment to realize he had not landed the whip on her skin, but next to her extended toes.
Instinctively she jumped, trying to get out of the way. As she did, she heard the clang of the chain attached to the rope above her head. She felt the pull in her wrists, the muscles tightened in her neck and back, her body swayed, and the bells tinkled.
She let out a breath and struggled to stay on her toes, desperately trying to relieve the ache in her wrists, arms, shoulders.
Again, the sounds: Whistle, snap, crack, clang, tinkle. Again, the motion as she teetered on tiptoe.
She understood. She was to dance, he was providing the music.
Over and over the whip landed beside her stretched toes with the red painted nails. Over and over she moved them to avoid the sting of the whip. Often she would throw herself completely off balance, and would spin like a graceful ballerina before gaining control, and being able to stop.
She danced and danced; breaths became labored as she continued, breathing only through her nose. Her beautiful blonde hair became dark with the moisture of perspiration, and rivers of sweat trailed down her face, tracing her jaw line. Her spine was like a riverbed, the moisture flowing down into the crevice of her bottom. Her breasts and stomach shined as if oiled. She could feel the pricks on the backs of her legs as her pores released the salty substance.
From between her legs, so beautifully stretched, a spring was bubbling. The sweet nectar that was her desire and need made her thighs slick as she danced on tiptoes.
Then he stopped. All was silent, and she hung there, struggling for a balance between hands and feet, struggling for stillness, for calm relief.
He entered the circle of light but she didn't notice. Kneeling before her, he tenderly parted her thighs, and leaned forward to taste her. She felt the soft touch of his tongue to her sex, felt the insistence of his lips as they kissed and caressed her button. He explored her gently, fully, tasting her sweetness from deep within, and then licking the delicate petals.
As he feasted, she struggled to remain still, made every effort to regain her composure. She found her efforts to be in vain, as was evidenced by the tinkling of the little bells that decorated her pink nipples.
She felt the pressure build within her; she knew desire to the depths of her being. He stood, and dropping his pants, pulled her to himself. She felt his manhood, and lifted one leg, wrapping it around his waist.
He kissed her neck, her shoulders, and face. He removed her gag and kissed her lips and mouth, arms wrapped around her back, offering his support as she hung by her wrists, balanced on her toes.
Then he lifted her, pulled both legs around his body, and settled her moist center over his member, proving she belonged to him. A shudder went through her, moving her very soul, as her tight sex gripped his, making it her own. Ever so slowly he lifted her and pulled her back to himself.
He muttered words of love, and she whispered her devotion. Her body clung to his, and his enveloped hers. Over and over he entered her, as she pulled him deeper into herself.
With a final push, and a sigh of release he filled her, giving her the essence of himself, making her his, and with a shutter she surrendered herself to him again, accepting him as her own.
Heaving she stood on tiptoes, and she heard him in the darkness. Suddenly, she felt the tension on her wrists and arms give way, and felt herself collapse on the floor. Tenderly he removed the cuffs from her wrist. Gently he wiped her wet, sweaty body with a towel. Delicately he kissed her cheeks and eyelids and ears as she sighed in sweet ecstasy. He watched silently as she curled in a contented ball, her head on his knee as she drifted out into the sea of rest, to dream of dancers and fountains and his gift of love. His mind, too, was drifting off to lovers and angels and the world that she gave to him through her love.
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