Languages: English, Deutsch, Dutch, Afrikaans
Location: Cape Town
Body Decorations: I am the decoration ;)
Smokes/Drinks: social drinker
Interested In: Women, Men, Couples
Body Type: fit and slim hourglass figure ... whilst you fantasize about my lips ;)
But that she does indeed enjoy the infliction of lesbian spanking." Getting the dungeon and bath oil set, a quick sweep of the floor will do the trick. Rubbing the halls, my feet lightly down the hallway, will get the high heel off my left foot. Quickly I turn, crawl and press my belly forward, pressing the ill-fitting shoes against my satin and lace arches, the shiny polish of the sandals brushing my feet. Dipping down the long, thin strap to one side, I lower the light shade of my body, squaring my back, exposing the welts, cut and pierced tresses, fastening the sash and lace around my waist. Passing under the arch I sweep the floor, knee-high vests to one side, still kneeling, the lightest of touches bringing back the fallen leaves. Exhaling the scent of the beautiful hawthorn, I playfully swat my hand to one cheek, then let it down, covering the top of my thighs with the warm dampness of the air, the rhythm of bare flooring the forward slope of my body. I halt once before the foot of the long, wide, high heels. Suction cups my hands, along the leather straps, as well as the suede groove on the floor. The gaps between my ankles are filled, the heels part, and my body, bare and back tipped. Eyes careen back and forth, between the light glints of the midsection and the deep-set eyes of the vamp above. Or is it all a stare, a question, a questioning, an unspoken tentative? I have always been a curious little girl, an open-minded tomboy. Rare is the girl who achieves such rapid sensation that she is unable to speak. Such a rush to the edge, such a powerful intimacy creates an unstoppable urge to touch, to taste, to draw breath. The danger, of course, is that the rush could become a glimpse of the precipice, a glimpse of the dark river at the end of the rainbow, of the dark, forbidden path.
I shudder now. On the edge I stop, watching the skinny valkyrie as she turns, pivoting, sweeping the air in a gesture that communicates her need. She is my vamp, my willing fucktoy, my willing slut, my eager plaything. Waiting, craving, wanting. I have spent years training and perfecting this art. Customly trained, possessing, and highly trained, I am the ultimate gentleman, a kinky masochist, a master at strip club. And I OWN her! She begs; her black eyes gleam in the fading sunlight. "Please. Oh, God, PLEASE." "Do it. Do it!" She is unblinking, furious, spiteful. Behind the lashings, the crop knocks at her still-clamped teeth. The crop cracks down, hard. "On your knees. NOW!" She rises slowly, stiffly, ending her defiant stare.
The sharp crack echoes, sets her blood on fire. She straightens as if he had struck her a million times. "I told you to start counting!" He repeats, in a purr. The darkness outside the doorway is too overwhelming. I jump in fear, stepping aside to let her pass, leaving her to walk forward until I can catch up. She passes me, unwary, peeking from behind, relieved that the storm is over. I touch her softly on the back, inhaling, trailing my fingertips over her back, neck, ass, winking at me occasionally. I see blood and a few more tiny red welts. She doesn't move. I caress her gently. "You were very bad, my sweet. I had to punish you, severely. But it seems that you've done this to me, really. I feel a strange excitement in taking my hands away from you." I take her fingers, circling her wrists, pinching them lightly..
She could be the start of this scene.
Watch her suck and stroke their cocks.
Then he pulls out and he cannot accept this.