The last time I saw Priscilla was an afternoon to remember.
We originally met at work where she was a supervisor in a department at one of my customers. We hit it off sexually right away. She was a big girl, about 240 pounds, but it was all where it should be and she had a wildly erotic imagination. Her figure was more voluptuous than simply fat, and she was really in very good physical shape.
It wasn’t hard for us to get together since she lived not too far from downtown in a guesthouse that was on a property that had originally been a ranch before it was subdivided. We arranged our work schedules to have most Tuesday afternoons off. Usually, it was just vigorous sex but she had one bondage scene she liked to play every few months.
I knocked at the door. She opened it, and saw me standing there with my jump bag, and smiled.
“Hi! I'm glad you could make it.”
“No problem.”
I walked into her living room. The guesthouse was somewhat rustic and may have been a bunkhouse when the property was a ranch. There was a good-sized living room, a small kitchen, a small bathroom and a bedroom the same size as the living room. She didn't have a lot of furniture, but the place was tidy except for the bed, that she never seemed to make.
“Have you been a good girl for the last month?”
“No. I've done some very bad things.”
“Then you will need to be punished. You have ten seconds to get naked.”
Her eyes widened with shock, but her reaction was part of their scene. I started counting backward, slowly from ten as I removed a Chinese Rosewood sting paddle from my jump bag. She hesitated for a moment as though unsure of what to do, but at the last second started to strip off her clothes, not making the ten second deadline. She stood naked, except for her high-heeled shoes, before me.
“You did not do as I told you. You must be punished for that too.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bend over and grab your ankles.
She had no difficulty bending over and assuming the position. I slowly walked around her looking at her naked body, making her anticipate the swat that she knew was coming. She closed her eyes in anticipation. I waited a little longer. She opened her eyes, wondering what I was doing. That's when I hit her. It was a good swat, catching both cheeks. She yelped in pain but held her position.
“Are you going to do what I tell you immediately?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. You may stand”
She stood up.
“Hold your hands together in front of you.”
She offered her hands out. I took some white cotton rope from the jump bag and carefully bound her wrists together using several turns of line on each wrist. The binding was neatly finished off with proper square knots. I could easily untie the knots, but there was no way she could free herself. I reached into the bag again and concealed the object that I removed behind my back. I walked behind her and ran my free hand over her body, starting with her behind, then moving my hand to her belly. I moved my hand up to her heavy breasts and cupped them, paying a little extra attention to her nipples, making sure that they were aroused and hard.
Pressing close against her back I moved my hand to her crotch, plunging my fingers into her moistness and fingering her clitoris slowly, but firmly. Her body shook with arousal and she opened her mouth. Swiftly, with my other hand, placed the ball gag I had been concealing in her mouth. I stood and with both hands tied the gag's leather thong behind her head. The gag was made of a wiffle ball so she had no trouble breathing through it, but could make only little sounds. Picking up my bag, and grabbing her by a nipple, I led her to the bedroom.
Some months before, when we started this scene, she had me install two eye bolts in the paneled wall of the bedroom. After we tried the scene, and she knew that she enjoyed it the eye bolts stayed. I took some short lengths of chrome plated welded chain, two small padlocks, and two harness snaps from the bag. Pulling a length of chain very tightly about the base of each breast I padlocked them on, then moved her over to the wall.
“Raise your hand above your head.”
She did the best she could with her wrists tied together. I attached the free ends of the chain to the eye bolts with the harness snaps. She, as now, effectively, padlocked to the wall by her breasts.
“That's good, but I think you need a little more.”
Reaching into the bag and pulling out an adjustable spreader bar with leather cuffs on the ends, I knelt down, attached the cuffs to her ankles, and then adjusted the bar out until she had her legs spread as far apart as she could without losing her balance. I taped a sheet of notebook paper on the wall in front of her face and placed a pencil in her right hand.
“Your punishment is to write fifty times "I will be a very good girl" while I give you a swat for every one you write. Don't start yet. You are not quite ready to be punished.”
Stepping back I got naked. The sight of her, helpless, brought me to instant arousal. I began to caress her behind.
“Can you imagine how good this will look after I have made it red and warm?”
She could only give a muffled grunt in reply.
“You're almost ready.”
I stood beside her, picked up the paddle in my right hand, and with my left hand began to finger her clitoris. She began to moan.
“Now! You are ready.”
She started writing. After every line I gave her a swat. The paddle was made to sting, not do any real damage, but her behind turned pink after a few swats, then red. I continued to finger her clitoris. She was dripping. Swat. Swat. As she finished the last line, she dropped the pencil. The timing was perfect. With the last swat of the paddle she had an orgasm
I removed the harness snaps from the eye bolts and moved her to the floor on her back. My own arousal was almost too much to contain. I slipped under the spreader bar and plunged my penis into her vagina. Her helplessness excited me to no end. Her breasts were purple and swollen from the constriction. Each of my thrusts put new pressure on the stinging soreness of her behind. Yet all of this discomfort also brought excitement for she had another orgasm when I had mine.
After recovering my composure, I unlocked her breasts, untied her wrists and removed the cuffs from her ankles. She sat up and I removed the gag. I helped her to her feet and guided her to the bathroom.
“Well, are you going to be a good girl now?”
“Yes, sir! I'm done. Let's shower.”
“OK.”
We hauled our now sweaty and almost exhausted bodies into the shower. The shower refreshed us. In spite of the shower stall being one of those stamped tin, free standing, noisy, Sears-catalog affairs from the 30s that threatened to fall apart if leaned on, we each managed another orgasm before we cleaned ourselves off and went to bed for a pleasant afternoon's nap…
When we awoke she said. “There is something that I have to tell you. This was the last time that we can do this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m getting married this Saturday.”
And, she did.