“I like how you’re laying. Don’t move.”
Four pieces of rope, eight separate ends; Julie arranges them at their halfway points, wraps them around her wrist a few times and through her open hand, which she closes. The result is a flogger with eight-15 inch long tendrils. She raises her arm and whips my left thigh with moderate force. I wince from the lash, expecting pain; but I don’t move.
“Did that hurt?” she asks with a surprised expression while she puts the blindfold on me.
“No,” I answer quickly. “I thought it would, but it didn’t.”
“Good. Roll over, get comfortable and don’t make a sound,” She commands. “This should feel good. If it doesn’t let me know.”
I do as I’m told and I’m greeted by a gentle stroke across my ass with Julie’s improvised cat-‘o-nine tails. I relax into the comforter and she performs a series of soft X strokes across my bottom and back, picking up the intensity with each swing. She’s hitting with the full length of the ropes, so the feeling across my backside is more of a thud than a sting.
“It feels good.”
She suspends the flogging. “Quiet,” I’m gently admonished. “Relax, Babe.” She begins again.
Julie increases the power behind her strokes and my body warms to the extra pressure. The precision of both power and aim impress upon me the effort my lover puts into my pleasure. Behind the darkness of the blindfold I drift to warm sunny days in summer dresses, holding my lover’s hand while walking barefoot on grass; days of laughter and longing. Where only we share our secret of forbidden love and devotion, only we share the excitement lying beneath our clothes and the knowledge of lovers’ touch. Just the two of us…
…I’m brought back to the present by Julie’s caress. The flogging has stopped, the blindfold has been removed and she is running her manicured fingertips along my arms, sides and legs. She rolls me over, puts her hands together, points her finger at me like it’s a gun and says, “Spread ’em.”
Laughing, I extend my hands and feet toward the corners of the bed. Julie ties me spread eagle; tightly, but comfortably. Finished, she asks, “Do you like to watch, Delilah?”
Before I can open my mouth to answer, Julie is standing on the bed, straddling my chest in just her thong. She is facing the headboard and is using a magic wand vibrator on her mound. I am helpless, exposed and I don’t want to, but I can’t help being incredibly turned on watching her enjoy herself while denying me. Still, I fight it.
“Stop, Julie, please.” I’m wet and struggling. She’s moaning now. It fills my ears. I fight harder. I get wetter.
Her thighs are flexing. I can tell she’s getting close. So am I. This visual stimulation and carnal deprivation has electrified my body, leaving me ready to discharge from a single touch. Julie’s moans get louder and louder until they become a siren in the night.
There is a noise accompanied by a flash. I look around. Julie is gone and I hear fireworks outside. Outside? Wait. Those aren’t fireworks.
I awake on Penny’s lap with a start and a muffled shout. “Where am I?”
“Delilah!” Penny barks, then recovers and pauses the movie. “Oh my gosh, girl, you scared me to death. Are you okay?”
“No.” Head low, I look around, not sure where I am. “Gimme a minute.”
“Is it your PTSD?” she asks with concern.
“Yeah,” I croak, “sorta.”
“Then I should speak softly to you, right?” She’s worried. I can’t answer. My body and mind are desperate to react to a place I’ve never been to, with people I’ve never known, fighting a fight I don’t understand. After a while, she tries again. “That’s what you said to do, right?”
“Yeah.” Penny’s familiar, soothing voice and gentle demeanor help me stay in the present.
Still, I want to scream. Overwhelmed, I roll toward her until my face is buried in her stomach and cry. Slowly, she rests her hands on my head and back and rocks me.
“It’s Penny and you’re gonna be okay, Delilah,” she whispers. “You’re in a safe place with a safe person. Nothing bad will happen to you here. You are loved and wanted…”
***
“You’re staying, Delilah.”
“But, Penny…” I can see it in the look I’m getting. Arguing is senseless. She’s worried and it would be cruel to leave now. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
A smile of relief floods her expression. “Let me change the sheets.”
“Don’t do that for me. I’m going to sleep on the couch.”
Penny heaves a heavy sigh and shoots me a look of pure attitude. “Delilah Foxdóttir, the whole point of having you stay over is for us to be close in case you need me.”
“But you have to work in the morning. What if I have a rough night and keep you up?”
“Will you stop arguing?!” She’s flustered. “I’m right and you know it. Now get ready for bed while I change the sheets.”
So I stop arguing, put up my hair, shower, lotion and brush my teeth. For the sleepover, Penny loans me a beautiful pair of pink, silk tap panties and a cut off hello kitty T-shirt. She is wearing a new pair of plaid boxers and a silk, navel length camisole.
“Um…”
“What, Delilah?” she asks innocently, unable to hide a smile.
I look in her cheval mirror. “I feel like something off of the Playboy channel.”
“At least you can pull it off.” Now she’s not hiding her smile.
I give her a dubious glare.
“Look, I’m not hitting on you, and you’re really cute in that.” She climbs into her king size bed.
“You and your smile. Okay, okay, Penny.” I join her.
“Wake me if you need me.” We kiss each other on the cheek and Penny turns out the light. “I made sure the bathroom light will keep the bedroom softly lit in case you wake up hard. Is that bright enough?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I hug her and roll toward the edge of the bed…
I’m sweating. It’s hot. My knuckles are sore. How much longer do I have to do this? Apartment Eight thirteen. I knock hard and fast. Eight thirteen… Isn’t that?
The door opens to Penny’s apartment. She’s barefoot and wearing boxers and a silk top. “Come in, Delilah.”
I step inside. “I was, um… I was looking for Julie.”
“I know.” Penny flashes a knowing smile. “Follow me.”
She turns and walks in the direction of her bedroom, forcing me to follow behind. I can’t help but notice her shorts are a little small, forcing their way into her crack and revealing the very bottom of each cheek. She stops just inside the doorway, allowing me to enter. Grudgingly, I walk past her and into the room.
“I’ve been expecting you.”
“Julie!!” She’s standing on the far side of the room by two large windows. I look behind me, but Penny is gone. Suddenly, Julie is close and kissing my neck. She’s holding me tightly by my wrists and I feel a tingle below. My mound grows wet and I realize I am tied on my back, spread eagle to Penny’s king size bed. The windows at the head of the bed are twelve feet high, wide open and allow a beautiful breeze; and anyone in the buildings across the street to clearly see me in my predicament.
Julie, who always had an alluring way of smoking, is dressed in a black lace basque, stockings and heels and is standing by the head of the bed, seductively hitting a joint. She blows the smoke out of a window, then passes it to Penny, who I just now realize is sitting on the bed by my head. Embarrassed for Penny to see me in such a vulnerable position, I struggle to break free.